"I heard her talking about 'the gentlemen,'" remarked Webb, laughing, as
they went up the steps of the bungalow together.

The Memorial was once more left to its shadows and silence. At the edge of
the compound a group of natives peered through the fencing, watching and
listening. Their dark faces expressed neither hatred nor admiration, nor
sorrow, nor pleasure--at most, a dull wonder.

When they were tired of watching, they passed noiselessly on their way.




CHAPTER III

NEHAL SINGH


The Royal apartment was prepared for the suffocating midday heat. Heavy
hangings had been pulled across the door which led on to the balcony, and
only at one small aperture the sunshine ventured to pierce through and
dance its golden reflection hither and thither over the marble floor. The
rest was hidden in the semi-obscurity of a starlit night, which, like a
transparent veil, half conceals and half reveals an untold richness and
splendor.

At either side slender Moorish pillars rose to the lofty ceiling, and from
their capitals winking points of light shimmered through the shadows.
Fantastic designs sprang into sudden prominence on the walls, shifting