As usual, he was irresistible. What matter Mai Lakshmi's indifference--since he cared so much? "Faithfully--I promise, Roy," she said; and, for proof of courage, looked straight into his eyes--that seemed mysteriously to hold and draw her into depths beyond depths.

For one incredible moment, his face moved a little nearer to hers--paused, as if irresolute, and withdrew.

So brief was the instant, so slight the movement, that she almost doubted her senses. But her inmost being knew--and ached, without shyness or shame, for the kiss withheld....

"You've the grit--I knew it," Roy said at last, in the level voice that had puzzled her earlier in the evening: and his hand slid from her shoulder. "Come now--we've been too long. Thea will be wondering...."

He turned; and she moved beside him, walking in a dream.

"Did you say much, before I came?" he asked, after a pause, "to that fellow--Chandranath?"

"I spoke a little--thinking him a _guru_----" She paused. The name woke a chord of memory. "Chandranath," she repeated, "that is the name they said----"

"_Who_?" Roy asked sharply, coming out of his own dream.

"Mataji and the widowed Aunt----"

"What do they know of him?"

"How can I tell? I think it was--through our _guru_, he made offer of marriage--for me; wishing for an educated wife. I was wondering--could it be the same----?"

"Well, look here," he rounded on her, suddenly imperious. "If it is--you can tell them I _won't_ have it. Grandfather would be furious. He ought to know--and Dyan. Your menfolk don't seem to get a look in."

"Not much--with marrying arrangements. That is for women and priests.

But--for now, I am safe, with Mrs Leigh----"

"And you'll stay safe--as far as he's concerned. You see, I know the fellow. He's the man I slanged in the City that day. Besides--at school----"

He unfolded the tale of St Rupert's; and she listened, amazed.

"So don't worry over that," he commanded, in his kind elder-brotherly tone. "As for your poor little chiragh, for goodness' sake don't let it get on your nerves."

She sighed--knowing it would; yet longing to be worthy of him. It seemed he understood, for his hand closed lightly on her arm.

"That won't do at all! If you feel quavery inside, try holding your head an inch higher. Gesture's half the battle of life."

"Is it? I never thought----" she murmured, puzzled, but impressed. And after that, things somehow seemed easier than she had thought possible over there, by the tank.

Secure, under Thea's wing, she drove to the Palace, where they were royally entertained by an unseen host, who could not join them at table without imperilling his soul. Later on, he appeared--grey-bearded, courtly and extensively jewelled--supported by Sir Lakshman, the prince, and a few privileged notables; whereupon they all migrated to the Palace roof for the grand display of fireworks--fitting climax to the Feast of Lights.

Throughout the evening Roy was seldom absent from Aruna's side. They said little, but his presence wrapped her round with a sense of companionship more intimate than she had yet felt even in their happiest times together. While rocket after rocket soared and curved and blossomed in mid-heaven, her gaze reverted persistently to the outline of a man's head and shoulders silhouetted against the sky....

Still later on, when he bade her good-night in the Residency drawing-room, she moved away carrying her head like a crowned queen. It certainly made her feel a few degrees braver than when she had crouched in the shadows praying vain prayers--shedding vain tears....

If only one could keep it up----!

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 13: Holy man.]

[Footnote 14: Prayer.]

[Footnote 15: Crocodile.]

CHAPTER IX.

"Thou dost beset the path to every shrine;

And if I turn from but one sin, I turn Unto a smile of thine."

--ALICE MEYNELL.

For Roy himself, no less than Aruna, the pa.s.sing of those golden October weeks had been an experience as beautiful as it was unique. The very beauty and bewilderment of it had blinded him, at first, to the underlying danger for himself and her. Bewilderment sprang from an eerie sense--vivid to the verge of illusion--that his mother was with him again in the person of Aruna:--a fancy enhanced by the fact that his entire knowledge of Indian womanhood--the turns of thought and phrase, the charm, at once sensuous and spiritual--was linked indissolubly with her. And the perilous charm had penetrated insidiously deeper than he knew. By the time he realised what was happening, the spell was upon him; his will held captive in silken meshes he had not the heart to snap.

As often as not, in that early stage, he craved sight and sound of her simply because she wore a sari and carried her head and moved her hands just so; because her mere presence stirred him with a thrill that blended exquisite pleasure, exquisite pain. There were times he would contrive to be alone in the room with her; not talking; not even looking at her--because her face disturbed the illusion; simply letting the feel of her presence ease that inner ache--subdued, not stilled--for the mother who had remained more vitally one with him than nine mothers in ten are able, or willing, to remain with their grown-up sons.

Thea Leigh, watching un.o.btrusively, had caught a glimpse of the strange dual influence at work in him. She had occasionally seen him with his mother; and had gleaned some idea of their unique relation; partly from Lance, partly from her intimate link with her own Theo, half a world away; nearly eighteen now, and eager to join up before all was over. So her troubled scrutiny was tempered with a measure of understanding. Roy had always attracted her. And now, unmothered--the wound not yet healed--she metaphorically gathered him to her heart; would have done so physically without hesitation; but that Vincent had his dear and foolish qualms about her promiscuous capacity for affection. But Aruna was her ewe lamb of the moment; and not even Roy must be allowed to make things harder for her than they were already....

So, after scouting the Delhi idea as preposterous, she suddenly perceived there might be virtue in it--for Aruna. Possibly it would glorify him in her eyes; but it would remove the fatal charm of his presence; give her a chance to pull up before things had gone too far.

Whereat, being Thea, she spun round unashamedly, to Roy's secret amus.e.m.e.nt and relief. All the Desmond in her rose to the adventure of it. A risk, of course; but there must be no question of failure; and success would justify all. She was entirely at his service; discussed details by the hour; put him 'on to Vinx' for coaching in the general situation--underground sedition; reformers, true and false; telling arguments for the reclaiming of Dyan Singh.

To crown all--between genuine relief and genuine affection--she impulsively kissed him on departure under Vincent's very eyes.

"Just only to give you my blessing!" she explained, laughing and blushing like a girl at her own audacity. "Words are the stupidest clumsy things. I'm sure life would be happier and less complicated if we only had the sense to kiss more and talk less----!"

This--in the presence of Aruna and her husband and her six-year-old son!

Roy, deeply moved and a little overcome, nodded a.s.sent, while Vincent took her by the arms and gently removed her from further temptation.

"Where _you'd_ be, Madam, if talking was rationed----!"

"I'd take it out in kissing--_Sir_!" she retorted unabashed; while Aruna glanced a little wistfully at Roy, who was fondling Terry and talking nonsense to Vernon. For the boy adored him and was on the brink of tears.

But if he seemed unheeding, he was by no means unaware. He was fighting his own battle in his own way; incidentally, he hoped, helping the girl to fight hers. For he had shaken himself almost free of his delicious yet disturbing illusion, only to be confronted by a more profoundly disturbing reality. Loyal to his promise, tacitly given, he had simply not connected her with the idea of marriage. The queer thrill of her presence was for him quite another affair. Not until that night of wandering in the moonlight had it struck him, with a faint shock, that she might be mistaking his friendliness for--something more. That contact with her had come at a critical moment for himself, was a detail he failed to realise. Beyond the sudden bewildering sensations that prompted his headlong proposal to Tara, he had not felt seriously perturbed by girl or woman; and, in the past four years, life had been filled to overflowing with other things----

That he should love Aruna, deeply and dearly, seemed as simple and natural, as loving Tara. But to fall in love was a risk he had no right to run, either for himself or her. Yet the risk had been run before he awoke to the fact. And the events and emotions of Dewali night had drawn them irresistibly, dangerously close together. For the racial ferment had been strong in him, as in her. And the darkness, the subtle influence of his Indian dress--her tears--her danger! How could any man, frankly loving her, not be carried a little out of himself? That overmastering impulse to kiss her had startlingly revealed the true forces at work.

After all that, what could he do, but sharply apply the curb and remove himself--for a time--in the devout hope that 'things' had not gone too far? He had not the a.s.surance to suppose she was already in love with him; but patently the possibility was there.

So--like Thea--he had come to see the Delhi inspiration in a new and surprising light. Setting forth in search of Dyan, he was, in effect, running away from himself--and Aruna, no less. If not actually in love, he very soon would be--did he dare to let himself go.

And why not--why _not_? The old unreasoning rebellion stirred in him afresh. His mother being gone, temptation tugged the harder. Home, without the Indian element, was almost unthinkable. If only he could take back Aruna! But for him there could be no 'if.' He had tacitly given his word--to _her_. And in any case there was his father--the Sinclair heritage--So all his fine dreams of helping Aruna amounted to this--that it was he who might be driven, in the end, to hurt her more than any of them. Life that looked such a straight-ahead business for most people, seemed to bristle with pitfalls and obstacles for him; all on account of the double heritage that was at once his pride, his inspiration, and his stone of stumbling.