"No," continued the man whom Michael Petroff had called the "Rajah," "I excuse you, Sir, because I know that you are only doing your duty. But your tact ought to prevent you from carrying out your precautions in such an obvious way. I have given you my word of honor not to make any attempt to escape. I want you to tell that to the English government, by whose authority you are keeping me here in confinement. Neither have I any weapons concealed in my room. I want you to search it." "I know that perfectly well, my friend!" "All the same, I want you to search." And the "Rajah" would not be satisfied until the Doctor had promised that his room should be searched immediately. During this conversation Dr. Maerz had appeared in the doorway, with the "Rajah" just behind him. Dr. Maerz was a small man, dressed in a light-gray suit, with a ruddy beardless face and a quick, searching but gentle eye, while the "Rajah" stood behind him, tall and dark, and almost filling up the doorway. The "Rajah" had a long black beard and a fearless, dark brown face, in which the whites of his eyes showed strikingly. The "Rajah" was simply a teacher, who had taught for a few years in India in a German school. A protracted fever had caused an incipient delusion, which, after his return to his native land, took entire possession of him. He imagined himself to be an Indian prince, who had been exiled by the English government. He was extremely silent and reserved, and never talked with the other patients. His bearing expressed an inscrutable calm and an apparently quite natural pride. For days together he would favor no one with a glance. He would walk up and down the garden, very slowly, gazing scornfully at the flowers and trees, and every evening, if the weather permitted, he would sit apart on a bench and gaze at the sinking sun, turning his dark face toward it until it disappeared. And as he gazed at the setting sun, an obscure, wistful sorrow glowed in his dark eyes. For he saw palm trees, that seemed to melt into the sun, so that only their tops showed, edged with flame, while their trunks were invisible--and elephants, stepping proudly, with their little brown _mahouts_ upon their necks--and glittering golden temples, and crowds of dark, half naked natives, trotting along with branches in their hands, and uttering shrill cries--and then too, he saw himself, going on board the steamer that was to carry him into exile, while the dark people threw themselves down on the quay and wept. The "Rajah's" soul was filled with deep and bitter sorrow, and he rose and held his broad shoulders more erect, as if he were bearing a heavy burden. And he bore it! The "Rajah" never complained, never showed despondency, nor did he ever show any sign of what was taking place within him.