While this conversation was being carried on the people outside remained in the same devout attitude; but just as Cummings ceased speaking there was a change in the affairs.
The music grew louder, and the bells were rung more rapidly, and the devotees sprang to their feet with shouts and songs, the women throwing flowers on the platform until the hideous god was nearly hidden from view.
When the tongueless bell was struck three times the crowd gathered around the image bearers, and all started toward what the white men believed was the temple, chanting in perfect harmony with the music.
The worshipers were soon lost to view; but their voices could be heard for ten or fifteen minutes, after which clouds of smoke, probably caused by burning incense, arose from the silver-domed building.
"If Poyor is wise he will come now," Cummings said, as he looked anxiously out. "The people are so intent upon the worship, or installation of a new god, whichever it may be, that he can get into the house without being seen."
But there were no signs of the Indian. Strain their eyes as they might he did not appear.
The sounds of music died away. The smoke ceased to arise from the temple, and the people began to walk the streets intent upon their business or pleasure.
"It is strange he is so imprudent," Cummings muttered half to himself. "Now the only safe way is to wait until night, if indeed he is yet at liberty."
"Do you think anything has happened to him?" Neal asked.
"Of course I can't even guess; but it is very strange he has waited so long."