“Of what are you thinking?” she asked him at last.
“Of India, Princess.”
“What of India?”
“She lies helpless.”
“Ah! You love India?”
“Yes.”
“You shall love me better! You shall love me better than your life! Then, for love of me, you shall own the India you think you love! This letter shall go!” She tapped her bosom. “It is best to cut you off from India first. You shall lose that you may win!”
She got up and stood in the gap, smiling mockingly, framed in the darkness of the cave behind.
“I understand!” she said. “You think you are my enemy. Love and hate never lived side by side. You shall see!”
Then in an instant she was gone, backward into the dark. He sat and waited for her, cross-legged on the ledge. As daylight began to filter downward he could dimly make out the waterfall, thundering like the whelming of a world; he sat staring at it, trying to formulate a plan, until it dawned on him that he was nearly chilled to the bone. Then he got up and stepped through the gap, too.