“But this is neither the time nor the place to say it,” she answered, making a movement as if she were about to turn into the bungalow.
Jewan caught her hand, and, with his glittering eyes fixed upon her fair face, said—
“Miss Meredith, listen to me. But one thing could have induced me to visit you, for if my countrymen knew it they might suspect me of treachery, and slay me. But what will a man not do for love? Ah! do not start; do not try to draw your hand away, as if I were something loathsome. If my skin is dark, do not the same emotions and passions stir my breast as those of the white man’s? Can my heart not throb with feelings as tender as his who is your accepted husband? Miss Meredith, I love you! In the name of all that is good, I ask you to become my wife, according to the rights of your own Church. I will give you devotion, I will be faithful to you, I will love you unto death. Could a white man do more?”
“Jewan Bukht, are you mad? Do you know what it is you ask? Am I to give you all that is dear to me—to sever every tie that binds me to my kith and kin, in order to become your wife? Never!”
“Think well before you give a decisive answer,” he replied, still retaining his hold of her hand.
“I have already thought. You have my answer. Nothing can alter my decision. Go away for a little while, and, believe me, this silly infatuation of yours will speedily wear off.”
“How little you know of the heart, to talk like that. Mine is no infatuation, but a genuine love. Why should you despise it?”
“I do not despise it. But I tell you I cannot, nor will not be your wife.”
“Again I ask you not to be rash in your answer. A great danger is hovering over the station. In a little while a fire will be lighted here that will extend throughout India. Your countrymen and women will cry for pity to ears that will be deaf, and they will appeal to hearts that will be as stone. I tell you, Miss Meredith, that ere the sun has risen and set again, there shall be bloody deeds done in Meerut. Every white person in this and in every city of India stands in deadly peril. And when once the revolt has broken out, even the ‘Great White Hand,’ all-powerful as it is, will not be able to stop it. Ere it be too late, say that you will be mine, and I will save you—more, I will save those belonging to you!”
She looked at the kneeling man at her feet; her heart beat wildly, and her breath came thick and fast. She knew that there was truth in what he said, but how should she act?