“Do you dare! That is the question. Hah! You have the courage of a Jew! Dare you act all parts, Ommony? Oh—oh, but the risk is—Listen! There is a troupe of actors—”
Benjamin’s long fingers began to knead the air excitedly, but Ommony sat still, staring straight before him, frowning a little—aware that Benjamin was itching to divulge a confidence.
“Their director, Ommony, is a man named Maitraya—His best male actor died—He will have to act the leading rôles himself unless—”
“I don’t see the advantage,” Ommony objected. But he did—he saw it instantly.
“Listen, Ommony! No bargain is a good one unless all concerned in it are gainers! Maitraya owes me money. He can not pay. He is honest. He would pay me if he could. I hold his hundis[[14]]. I could ruin him. He must do as I say! Now listen! Listen!—there would be a solution of his difficulties, and—I might even be willing to advance just a little more money for his needs. He would not need much—just a little. And he must do as I say—you understand? He must take you if I say so. The Lama commissioned me to engage the actors—”
“But won’t he want to know all about the actors?” Ommony asked guardedly. He knew better than to turn down Benjamin’s proposals point-blank.
Benjamin grew suddenly calm, shot one keen glance at Ommony and changed his weapon, so-to-speak, into the other hand. It began to be clear enough that Benjamin had irons of his own to heat.
“Of course, if you ask me, Ommony—if you were to ask my advice—as a man to a man of business—I would ask you, why not go straight to Tilgaun, and there wait for the Lama? He is searching you say for a piece of jade, which is in your possession. Will he not follow you to Tilgaun, if you go straight there? How much trouble you would save! How much risk you would avoid!”
“And how much information I might lose!”
“Show me the jade, Ommony.”