It might have been the dancing flames that lit them, but Brown thought
he saw the dawn of reason.
"Say that if I let my men kill him, my men will believe me superhuman,
and his men will know that he is only a man with a withered arm!
But tell him this: He's got the best chance he ever had to perform
a miracle, and have the whole of this province believe in him
forevermore."
Again the fakir's eyes took on a keener than usual glare, as he listened
to the Beluchi. He did not nod, though, and he made no other sign,
beyond the involuntary evidence of understanding that his eyes betrayed.
"His men can see that noose round his neck, tell him. And his men
know me, more or less, and British methods anyhow. They believe now,
they're sure, they're positive that his neck's got about as much chance
of escaping from that noose as a blind cow has of running from a tiger.
Now then! Tell him this. Let him come the heavy fakir all he likes.
Tell him to tell his gang that he's going to give an order. Let
him tell them that when he says 'Hookum hai!' my men'll loose his
neck straight away, and fall down flat.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102