About This Book
Shall I sin, to satisfy your itch for what you have no right to?There was no moon yet. The ponderous temple wall loomed behindHawkes, a huge tree breathing near him, full of the restlessnessof parakeets that made the silence audible and darkness visible;its branches, high above the wall, were a formless shadow, toodense for the starlight. Hawkes' white uniform absorbed the hueof smoke, a trifle reddened by the glow of embers.Come and try! he remarked to himself, and retired again intothe shadow, muttering: I'd like to have some one try to buy me--justonce.No purchasers appeared, and he did not appear to expect any amongthe bearers of lanterns, like fireflies, who came unhurrying fromthe city--decent enough citizens--silversmiths and sandal makers,weavers, tradesmen not so virtuous, nor yet so mean that theymight not glean a little comfort at a day's end, from the samehymn men have sung for centuries, until its words mean less thanthe mood it makes. They took no notice, or appeared to take none,of Joe Beddington, who left his horse amid the trees three hundredyards away and strode by himself, so to speak, in the stream.The citizens of Adana gathered in the clearing amid the trees,filled it and spread outward along the temple wall, extinguishingtheir lanterns because the priests, who are obstinate people,object to imported kerosene; and anyhow, there would be a fullmoon presently, so why waste oil? Joe Beddington, staring abouthim, strode through their midst and presently stood where Hawkeshad been. Chandri Lal, a small lean cobra-charmer eased himselfout of a shadow and laid his circular basket near Beddington'sfeet, studying the dying fire, speculating whether to blow thatinto flame or wait until the moon should rise above the templewall. Hymn or no hymn, business is business; Chandri Lal hadheard that all Americans shed money as clouds shed rain. He hopedHawkes would not see him. He knew, to half an ounce, the weightof Hawkes' boot and the heft behind it.Sergeant Hawkes came out of the shadow and saluted Joe, or ratherhe saluted about a hundred million dollars:Your mother decided not to come, sir? Just as well. She'd havegot tired standing here.
