“Well; what right have you to the piece of jade?” Chutter Chand snapped back at him. He let the irritation through without intending it and smiled directly afterward in an attempt to undo the impression. But if the Lama had noticed the acerbity, he made no sign.
“None, any more than you have,” came the answer in the same mild voice. “None has any right to it. I have a duty to return it to whence it came—and a duty to you, to preserve you from impertinence, if that may be. It is not good, Chutter Chand, to meddle with knowledge before the time appointed for its understanding. He who would tread the Middle Way is patient, keeping both feet on the ground and his head no higher than humility will let it reach. Be wise—O man of intellectual desires! Destruction is in rashness.”
His fingers touched Diana’s collar and twisted it around until the small brass plate, on which Ommony’s name was engraved, came uppermost; but his eyes continued to look straight at Chutter Chand. It was the younger man, squatting in silence beside him, his head and body motionless, whose bright eyes took in every detail of the room, not omitting to notice the movement of the Lama’s hand. Except for the eyes, his face continued perfectly expressionless.
“Well—er—ah—before I answer definitely, I would like you to tell me about the jade,” said Chutter Chand. “You will find me reasonable. I am not a sacrilegious person. Er—ah—can you not establish to my satisfaction that—ah—I would be doing rightly to—er—let us say, to entrust the piece of jade to you?”
“I think you know that already,” said the Lama, in a voice of mild reproof, as if he were speaking to a child of whom he was rather fond. “What does your heart say, my son? It is the heart that answers wisely, if desire has been subdued. I have come a very long way——”
“Desiring the piece of jade!” sneered Chutter Chand—regretting the sneer instantly—driving finger-nails into the palm of his hand with impatience of himself.
“True,” said the Lama. “Desire is not easy to destroy. Yet I do not desire it for myself. And for you I desire peace—and merit. May the Lord live in your heart and guide you in the Middle Way.”
The jeweler moved restlessly. The atmosphere was getting on his nerves. There was an indefinable feeling of being in the presence of superiority, which is irritating to a man of intellect.
“You mean, there will be no peace for me unless I give up the piece of jade to you?” he asked tartly.
“I think that is so,” said the Lama gently.