She took his hand and pressed her forehead to it.
"I shall see you tomorrow, then, Rujub," he said, and shaking the
reins, went on at a canter.
"That is a new character for me to come out in," he said bitterly;
"I do not know myself--I, of all men. But there was no bravery
in it; it never occurred to me to be afraid; I just thrashed him
off as I should beat off a dog who was killing a lamb; there was no
noise, and it is noise that frightens me; if the brute had roared
I should assuredly have run; I know it would have been so; I could
not have helped it to have saved my life. It is an awful curse that
I am not as other men, and that I tremble and shake like a girl
at the sound of firearms. It would have been better if I had been
killed by the first shot fired in the Punjaub eight years ago, or
if I had blown my brains out at the end of the day. Good Heavens!
what have I suffered since. But I will not think of it. Thank God,
I have got my work; and as long as I keep my thoughts on that there
is no room for that other;" and then, by a great effort of will,
Ralph Bathurst put the past behind him, and concentrated his thoughts
on the work on which he had been that day engaged.
The juggler did not arrive on the following evening as he had expected,
but late in the afternoon a native boy brought in a message from
him, saying that his daughter was too shaken and ill to travel,
but that they would come when she recovered.
A week later, on returning from a long day's work, Bathurst was
told that a juggler was in the veranda waiting to see him.
Pages:
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36