Miska, with a sobbing moan, sank upon the diwan. Fo-Hi stood motionless, looking straight before him. His terrible calm was restored.
"It is the bitter truth," he said—"that to win the world I have bartered the birthright of men; the art of winning a woman's heart. There is much in our Chinese wisdom. I erred in breaking the whip. I erred in doubting my own prescience, which told me that the smiles I could not woo were given freely to another … and perhaps the kisses. At least I can set these poor frail human doubts at rest."
He crossed and struck a gong which hung midway between the two doors.
CHAPTER IV
THE GUILE OF THE EAST
Her beautiful face a mask of anguish, Miska cowered upon the diwan, watching the closed doors. Fo-Hi stood in the centre of the great room with his back to the entrance. Silently one of the lacquered panels slid open and Chunda Lal entered. He saluted the figure of the veiled Chinaman but never once glanced in the direction of the diwan from which Miska wildly was watching him.
Without turning his head, Fo-Hi, who seemed to detect the presence of the silent Hindu by means of some fifth sense, pointed to a bundle of long rods stacked in a corner of the room.
His brown face expressionless as that of a bronze statue, Chunda Lal crossed and took the rods from their place.
"Tum samajhte ho?" (Do you understand?) said Fo-Hi. Chunda Lal inclined his head.
"Main tumhari bat manunga" (Your orders shall be obeyed), he replied.