As the luminous hands of Trent's watch approached eight o'clock he heard sounds outside his door—footsteps and muffled tones. Figuratively, he gave himself into the hands of his kismet.
The door opened. Polished armor shone in the dimly lighted hall. A hand beckoned to him. Between armed soldiers he left the room and descended to the lower floor.
Hsien Sgam, in his robes of office, stood waiting in the scarlet chamber where he had received Trent that morning; and his greeting,—the quintessence of irony—his quiet, self-assured smile, made Trent falter in his diplomatic resolution to sheathe his antagonism.
One of the soldiers drew aside a scarlet curtain, revealing an arched doorway and, beyond, a long, dim hall. There a table was set. Tapers in a European candelabrum threw flickering light upon European silverware.
"You will observe," said Hsien Sgam, with a wave of his slender hand, "that I have been educated to your manner of eating. I generally relapse into barbarism, but this is an occasion—a celebration, as it were, in honor of the arrival of the first Englishman in Shingtse-lunpo."
Hsien Sgam sat across the table from Trent, and behind him—grim reminders of his power—stood two soldiers, one on either side of the scarlet-curtained archway. It was clear that the Mongol was not a gambler.... Three Tibetan women, their faces smeared with kutch, served. There was little pretense at conversation, and the trying mockery of the meal was half over before Hsien Sgam broke the prolonged strain.
"Let us not be deceived," he began, "but understand each other at the very start; let us, as you would say, commence with clean slates." He smiled over a cup of tea—tea brewed in the English fashion, and not the sickening gruel that masquerades under that name in Tibet. "As you have probably guessed, I know you are not he who the very beautiful Sarojini Nanjee would have me believe you—one Tavernake, a jeweller—but Major Trent—er—Major Arnold Ralph Trent, R. A. M. C., I believe is the full title, working in the interests of those who would commit the lamentable mistake of interfering with the affairs of others."
The Mongol continued to smile. "Furthermore, let it be understood that the fact that I know this does not in the least prejudice me against you. That one is blind is not his own fault. To enlighten you, to give you true sight—that is my purpose."
Trent met Hsien Sgam's gaze with unwavering eyes.
"At one time you were prejudiced," he suggested pointedly.