Bagi dak-bungalow is open to all the winds and is
bitterly cold. Few people go to Bagi. Perhaps that was the reason why Dumoise
went there. He halted at seven in the evening, and his bearer went down the
hill-side to the village to engage coolies for the next day's march. The sun
had set, and the night-winds were beginning to croon among the rocks. Dumoise
leaned on the railing of the verandah, waiting for his bearer to return. The
man came back almost immediately after he had disappeared, and at such a rate
that Dumoise fancied he must have crossed a bear. He was running as hard as he
could up the face of the hill.
But there was no bear to account for his terror. He raced to the verandah and
fell down, the blood spurting from his nose and his face iron-gray. Then he
gurgled:--"I have seen the Memsahib! I have seen the Memsahib!"
"Where?" said Dumoise.
"Down there, walking on the road to the village. She was in a blue dress, and
she lifted the veil of her bonnet and said:--'Ram Dass, give my salaams to the
Sahib, and tell him that I shall meet him next month at Nuddea.' Then I ran
away, because I was afraid."
What Dumoise said or did I do not know. Ram Dass declares that he said nothing,
but walked up and down the verandah all the cold night, waiting for the
Memsahib to come up the hill and stretching out his arms into the dark like a
madman.
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