|
Page17
Well, the
Brahmacharya said, if
we can't leave him tied up and if we can't let him go, what are we to do
with him?
The words struck Buckshee like a blow. There was only one thing to do.
He would have to take this bloodstained thug to his teacher! There was
no choice but to drag along this black shadow of his own past, much as
though that past were inextricably stuck to him, visible, repugnant, undeniable.
The shame of it stabbed Buckshee to the heart.
The dacoit was glaring at him with hatred, and in his red and bulging
eyes Buckshee saw raw fear that he, Buckshee, would retrieve one of the knives
and kill him easily, quickly. He also saw in those hate filled eyes the
fear of long jungle nights and godless days an unending, pervasive fear.
With a sudden rush of compassion, he said, Come
along, then. Just to see my, teacher may be the chance of a lifetime for
you of many lifetimes. Just to see him! Come along. He gestured
to the Brahmacharya to lead the way.
|
