"If I had the money and the power, I would sweep the Bazaar, with all its dirt and disease, out of existence," Travers answered energetically. "I would build up a new native quarter outside Marut, and enforce order and cleanliness. Where the present Bazaar stands, I would open out a mine, and with the help of European experts encourage the natives into the subsequent employment which would stand open to them. In a short time a mere military Station would become the center of native industry and commercial prosperity." A faint skeptical smile played around Nehal Singh's mouth, but his eyes were still profoundly grave. "If I know my people, I fear they will revolt against such changes," he said. "You have described them as dreamers who prefer starvation to effort--such they are." "Your influence would be irresistible, Rajah Sahib." Nehal Singh looked at Travers keenly. For the second time he had been spoken of as a power. Was it perhaps true, as his father had said, and this cool Englishman had said, that the thoughts and actions of more than a million people lay at his command? If so, the twenty-five years of his life had been wasted, and he stood far below the high standard which had been set him. He had wandered aimlessly along a smooth path, cut off from the world, plucking such fruits and flowers as offered themselves within his reach, deaf to the cries of those to whom his highest efforts should have been dedicated. He had dreamed where he should have acted, slept where he should have watched and labored unceasingly, yet it was not too late. He felt how his whole dream-world shivered beneath the convulsions of his awakening energies. The vague, futile, uneasy longings of his immaturity took definite shape. His shackled abilities awaited only the signal to throw off their fetters and in freedom to create good for the whole world. "You have shown me possibilities of which I never dreamed," he said to Travers. "I must speak to you again, and soon, for if things are as you say, then time enough has been wasted. But not tonight. Tomorrow I will see you--or no, not tomorrow--the day after. I must have time to think." The waltz had died sentimentally into silence, and he made a gesture indicating that he wished to return to the ball-room. Yet on the threshold he hesitated and drew back. "The light and confusion trouble me," he said, passing his hand over his eyes, "and my mind is full of new thoughts. If you will permit, I will take my leave. My servants are waiting outside, and if you will carry my thanks to my other hosts, I should prefer to go unnoticed." "It is as you wish, Rajah Sahib," Travers returned, "It is we who have to thank you for partaking of our poor hospitality." "You have given me more than hospitality," Nehal Singh interposed. Then he lifted his hand in salute. "In two days I shall expect you." "In two days."