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Page 73
Lighting a fresh cigar, Nicol Brinn drew a copy of the Sketch
from the rack, and studied the photographs of more or less pretty
actresses with apparent contentment. He had finished the Sketch,
and was perusing the Bystander, when, the car having climbed a
steep hill and swerved sharply to the right, he heard the
rustling of leaves, and divined that they were proceeding along a
drive.
He replaced the paper in the rack, and took out his watch.
Consulting it, he returned it to his pocket as the car stopped
and the light went out.
The door, which, with its fellow, Nicol Brinn had discovered to
be locked, was opened by the Oriental chauffeur, and Brinn
descended upon the steps of a shadowed porch. The house door was
open, and although there was no light within:
"Come this way," said a voice, speaking out of the darkness.
Nicol Brinn entered a hallway the atmosphere of which seemed to
be very hot.
"Allow me to take your hat and coat," continued the voice.
He was relieved of these, guided along a dark passage; and
presently, an inner door being opened, he found himself in a
small, barely furnished room where one shaded lamp burned upon a
large writing table.
His conductor, who did not enter, closed the door quietly, and
Nicol Brinn found himself looking into the smiling face of a
Hindu gentleman who sat at the table.
The room was decorated with queer-looking Indian carvings,
pictures upon silk, and other products of Eastern craftsmanship.
The table and the several chairs were Oriental in character, but
the articles upon the table were very European and businesslike
in appearance. Furthermore, the Hindu gentleman, who wore correct
evening dress, might have been the representative of an Eastern
banking house, as indeed he happened to be, amongst other things.
"Good evening," he said, speaking perfect English "won't you sit
down?"
He pointed with a pen which he was holding in the direction of a
heavily carved chair which stood near the table. Nicol Brinn sat
down, regarding the speaker with lack-lustre eyes.
"A query has arisen respecting your fraternal rights," continued
the Hindu. "Am I to understand that you claim to belong to the
Seventh Kama?"
"Certainly," replied Brinn in a toneless voice.
The Hindu drew his cuff back from a slender yellow wrist,
revealing a curious mark which appeared to be branded upon the
flesh. It was in the form of a torch or flambeau surmounted by a
tongue of flame. He raised his black brows, smiling
significantly.
Nicol Brinn stood up, removing his tight dinner jacket. Then,
rolling back his sleeve from a lean, sinuous forearm, he extended
the powerful member, having his fist tightly clenched.
Upon the inside of his arm, just above the elbow, an identical
mark had been branded!
The Hindu stood up and saluted Nicol Brinn in a peculiar manner.
That is to say, he touched the second finger of his right hand
with the tip of his tongue, and then laid the finger upon his
forehead, at the same time bowing deeply.
Nicol Brinn repeated the salutation, and quietly put his coat on.
"We greet you," said the Hindu. "I am Rama Dass of the Bengal
Lodge. Have you Hindustani?"
"No."
"Where were you initiated?"
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