“Without curiosity progress would cease,” he asserted, well knowing that was untrue but bent on proving he was some one he was not. The Lama knew Cottswold Ommony for a thoughtful man (for twenty years’ correspondence must have demonstrated that) and, if not profound, at least acquainted with profundity; and it is men’s expressions of opinion more often than mechanical mistakes that betray disguises, so he didactically urged an opinion that he did not entertain.
“Without curiosity, nine-tenths of sin would cease. The other tenth would be destroyed by knowledge,” the Lama replied. Whereat he took snuff in huge quantities from a wonderful old silver box.
“Where are we going?” asked Ommony suddenly.
“I have disposed of curiosity.” The Lama dismissed the question with one firm horizontal movement of his right hand.
“I have a servant, to whom I must send a message,” Ommony objected.
“The chela may take it.”
Ommony glanced at Samding and the calm eyes met his without wavering; yet he did not have the Lama’s trick of seeming to look through a person. Perhaps youth had something to do with that. His gaze betrayed interest in an object, whereas the Lama’s looked behind, beyond, as if he could see causes.
Ommony sat still, grateful for the silence, thinking furiously. He had witnessed proof that the Lama commanded a spy-system perfectly capable of discovering even the secret moves of McGregor. The odds were therefore ten to one that he knew exactly who was sitting in the carriage facing him. Samding had read the name Ommony on Diana’s collar in Chutter Chand’s shop. The letter from the Lama had been delivered to Mrs. Cornock-Campbell’s house. Benjamin was the Lama’s secret agent, as well as more or less openly his man of business. Viewed in all its bearings, it would be almost a miracle if the Lama did not at least suspect the real identity of the Bhat-Brahman who sat chewing betel-nut in front of him.
And the Lama now had the piece of jade for which ostensibly he had come all the way to Delhi. Moreover, he had known where it was, at least for several hours. Then why did he continue to submit to being spied on? Why had he not, for instance, stepped into the carriage and driven away, leaving Ommony on the sidewalk outside Vasantasena’s? That would have been perfectly easy. Or he could have denounced Ommony in Vasantasena’s presence, with consequences at the hands of the assembled guests that would have been at least drastic, and perhaps deadly. If the Lama really did know who was sitting in the carriage with him, the mystery was increased rather than clarified.
And now there was the problem of Dawa Tsering and the dog. Ommony wished for the moment he had made some other arrangement—until he realized the futility of making any effort to conceal what the Lama almost certainly already knew. He might have left the dog with McGregor, and have had Dawa Tsering confined in jail, but he would have lost two important allies by doing it. A man with a “knife” and a dog with a terrific set of teeth might turn out to be as good as guardian angels.