Salig Singh looked bored. "Since thou hast come so far," he said, "thou wilt go farther, hazoor."
"Meaning—by force?"
"Of thine own will. Those whom the Voice calleth are not led to the
Gateway by their noses."
"But," Amber persisted, "suppose they won't go?"
"Then, hazoor, doth the Council of the Hand sit in judgment upon them."
The significance was savagely obvious, but Amber merely laughed. "And the Hand strikes, I presume?" Salig Singh nodded. "Bless your heart, I'm not afraid of your 'Hand'! But am I to understand that compulsion is not to be used in order to get me to the Gateway—wherever that is? I mean, I'm free to exercise my judgment, whether or not I shall go—free to leave this place and return to my hotel?"
Gravely the Rajput inclined his head. "Even so," he assented. "I caused thee to be brought hither solely to make certain what thou hast out of thine own mouth confirmed—the report that thou hadst become altogether traitor to the Bell. So be it. There remains but the warning that for four days more, and four days only, the Gateway remains open to those summoned. On the fifth it closes."
"And to those who remain in the outer darkness on that fifth day, Salig
Singh——?"
"God is merciful," said the Rajput piously.
"Very well. If that is all, I think I will now leave you, Salig Singh," said Amber, fondling his pistol meaningly.