Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1918-04-10
The Winds OF the World

, roy's babu, A Sikh is Jat farm
er with a lions tail and the man
ners of a buffalo! Age or gallantry
will bend a mans back. What
keeps it straight-the smell of the
farmyard on his shoes?"
Ranjoor Singh did not answer,
nor did he bow as low as she in
tended. She forgot, perhaps, that
on a previous occasion he had seen
her snatch a mans turban from his
head and run with it into the room,
to the mans sweating shame. He
kicked his shoes off calmly and
waited as a man waits on parade,
looking straight into her eyes that
were like dark jewels, only no
jewels in the world ever gloWed
so wonderfully; he thought he
could read anger in them, but that
ruffled him no more than her
mockery.
Enter then. o farmeri" she said,
turning, lithely as a snake, to beck
on him and lead the way.
Now he had only a back view of
her. but the contour of her neck
and chin and her shoulders Knocked
him pust as surely as her lips were
making signals that he could not
see. One answer to the signals
was the tittering of 20 maids, who
sat together by the great deep
window ready to make music.
They laugh to see a farmer
strayed from his manure-pile!"
purred Yasmini over her Shout
der; but Ranjoor Singh followed
her unperturbed.
He was finding time to study the
long room, its divans and deep
cushions around the walls: and it
did not escape his notice that many
people were expected. He guessed
there was room for so or 40 to sit
at ease.
Like a pale blue will-o'-the-wisp
a glitter in the cunning lights she
led him to a far end of the room
where many cushions were. There
she turned on him with a snake
like suddenness that was one of
her surest tricks.
II shall have great guests to-
night shall be busy"
''Tht is thy affair."" said Ranjoor
Singh, aware that her eyes were
seeking TO read his soul. The drop
ped lids did not deceive him.
Then, what do you want here2'
That question was sheer impu-
dence 1t is very well understood
in Delhi that any native gentleman
of rank may call on Yasmini be-
tween midday and midnight with
out Offering a reason for his visit;
otherwise it would be impossible to
hold a salon and be power in pol
itics in a land where politics run
deep, but where men do not admit
openly to which party they belong |
But Yasmini represents the spirit |
of the Old East, sweeter than a
rose and twice as tempting-with |
a poisoned thorn inside. And here
a middle-aged Sikh officer taught !
by Young England.
He annoyed her.
Ranjoor Singh's answer was to |
seat himself. with dignity the |
West has yet to learn. on long
divan against the wall that gave |
him a good view of the entrance |
and all the rest of the room. win
dow included. Instantly Yasmini /
flung herself on the other end of it,
and lay face downward. with her
chin resting on both hands.
She studied his face intently for
SO seconds, and 1t very seldom
takes her that long to read a mans
guess at his past, and
make arrangements for his future.
II she thinks him worth her while.
why are you here?" she asked
again at the END of her scrutiny.
Rantoor Singh seemed not TO
hear her; he was watching other
men who entered. and listened TO
the sound OF yet others on the
stairs. No other Sikh came in, nor
more than one of any other caste or
tribe; yet he counted thirty men in
half 49, many minutes.
Il think you are a buffalo" she
said al Last. but II RAninnr Singh