She had been in the Forward Room. He heard the door and her step in the living-room; then at last she came to the door of the court, and all that he could say was:
She looked so white that he was awed by the frailness of her life. He could not speak, and the sense of hanging there, impotent, presently prevailed upon his pride, and he went away. During the day Bamban twice mentioned the town of Wampli, and each time Romney turned away and smiled.
Always when driven to the last ditch, he smiled. One can best survey the humour of the world from the last ditch. And this day moved on, hour by hour, the slowest caravan in the reach of mortal conception—hours to the dusk, deadly, crawling. And when the dusk came on, he went to the court of the Consulate and sat upon a stone by the west wall, and smoked there, waiting for the full night. Once the woman came to the doorway and waved at him. And that night, leaving, he was torn again. As he stretched out on his blankets, Bamban brought a candle.
... Romney suddenly reached for the yellow hand. At the touch of it, a sob came from him, and for an hour he apologised. Still an hour later he awoke, sweating, with a start, dreaming that the laugh had come. Bamban was still sitting by the candle.
"Was that the hyenas?" the American asked.
"No, there has been silence. You were dreaming."
"You do not eat. You do not sleep. You are losing strength for your journey. Will not the woman wait for you?"
"I feel as if I needed some new power," Romney said strangely. "I feel the need of a master."
"When that comes to a man, the master is near," Bamban said quietly.
"What do you mean? You see I have stopped talking to you as a servant."
"I am your servant," Bamban responded simply.
"But what did you mean about the master being near?"
"It is a saying among the Buddhists that the master is ready when the man is; but I wonder if he will find his disciple with great joy, when that disciple delays his mission for a woman. Remember I am talking still as your servant."
"You are the chosen one. I wait for you to remember your mission, and to have done with the lesser drawing principle—"
Romney laughed. "It’s a clash of the East and West," he said.
"But they thought you were of the East. They are waiting now in Peking—in the conviction of your loyalty—"