There was another silence, broken at last by another inquiry from the rajah as to my being weary.
“Shall I make them walk?” he said, showing his sympathy and consideration.
“Oh no,” I said in protest. “I am not so weary as that.”
I forced myself to talk to him, and he seemed pleased, conversing eagerly, sometimes in excellent English, and at others in Hindustani, and so the time passed on, till I found by the darkness and the blotting out of the stars that we were going along a forest path.
The ride had seemed peculiar before, now it was far more strange, from peculiar shadows cast upon the tree trunks, and the various effects of light and shade as the smoky torches played about us, and formed a long line of light both in front and rear.
At last the excitement of the evening and the unwonted exercise in my weak state began to tell, and I was very silent. The journey had now lost its interest, the motion of the elephant became almost intolerable, and I was beginning to feel that I would give anything to go to my couch in the tent and lie down and sleep, when, just as I noticed that the stars were out again overhead, the rajah suddenly exclaimed—
“There is your future home, Gil;” and, as I followed the direction of his pointing hand, I saw a light glow in the distance as of a fire, out of which a flash suddenly rose, and then ended in a burst of stars, the tiny sparks showing that they were at a considerable distance yet.
“Signs of rejoicing,” he said to me, with a smile.
Then, evidently noticing how exhausted I looked, he said quickly—
“We shall not be long, and you can go to your room directly we reach my palace.”