"A CRY OF DESPAIR ESCAPED HIM."
([p. 51.])
Then he stepped quickly to the idol, and sought the left hand of the god. He pressed the nail of the fourth finger. The god's right eyelid lifted, and the complete stone was disclosed. Travers quickly abstracted it, released the lid, and put the Pearl in his pocket.
His object was accomplished. But what was that? Listen.
There was a sound at the window. The Hindoo was there—beaten by half a minute.
Travers turned to the door. Then, impelled by an overpowering curiosity to see the end of the drama, he slipped to another window, and got behind the curtain.
There was a faint whistle from below. Hang it, what a fool he'd been! The Baboo had seen the momentary disarrangement of the curtain, and had observed his figure against the light, and now he was alarming his friend. But the latter heeded not. Perhaps he was too excited to understand, or even to hear him.
The sash was raised, the curtain pulled back, and the Hindoo stepped into the room. He was almost naked, and his bare limbs shone with a coating of oil. He took one step forward, and looked up eagerly into the idol's face. Then a cry of despair escaped him. The stone for which he had travelled five thousand miles was not there. He had lost his caste. It could never be regained, since he had failed in his quest. Never again could he see his native land. Under the crushing blow he sank, a comatose heap, on the floor.
The minutes passed, and Travers shifted uneasily behind the curtain. There were sounds from the garden—then approaching footsteps in the corridor. The door was flung open, and Lord Illingworth burst into the room, revolver in hand. The Duke of Strathpeffer followed with other guests, and some footmen. The Hindoo stared dully at them, but did not move. He was promptly seized.