Q. If I succeed in naming him will you acknowledge it?
A. You will not succeed, Sahib.
Q. But if I should?
A. I will acknowledge it.
Q. The person is John Hinton Darrow.
The old man started as if he had been stabbed, and looked at me in amazement. He seemed at first to think I had read his thoughts and riveted his dark eyes upon me as if, by way of return, he would read my very soul. I think he did so, for his scrutiny seemed to satisfy him. He replied, somewhat reassured: “I can speak only to John Hinton Darrow.”
“John Darrow is dead,” I said.
“Dead!” he exclaimed, springing to his feet; “Darrow Sahib dead!” and he fell back into his chair, covering his face with his hands. “Ah, my poor Lona!” he muttered feebly; “I have failed to keep my promise. Do not reproach me, for I have done my best. For twenty years have I searched in vain for this man that I might fulfil your last request, and the very first information I receive is the news of his death. I have been no less vigilant than Ragobah, yet I have failed, even as he has failed.”
I took this opportunity to again question him.
Q. Are you sure Ragobah failed?