The great doors opening on the marble outer hall clanged tight, and in this room there were no carved screens through which a hidden, rustling world might listen.

There was gold-incrusted splendor--there were glittering, hanging ornaments that far outdid the peacocks' feathers of the canopy above the throne; but the walls were solid, and the marble floor rang hard and true.
There was no nook or corner anywhere that could conceal a man.

For a minute, still bejewelled in his robes of state and glittering as the diamonds in his head-dress caught the light from half a dozen hanging lamps, the Maharajah sat and gazed at them, his chin resting on one hand and his silk-clad elbow laid on the carved gold arm of his throne.
"Why am I troubled ?" he demanded suddenly.
"You know!" said the missionary.

His daughter clutched his hand tightly, partly to reassure him, partly because she knew that a despot would be bearded now in his gold-bespattered den, and fear gripped her.
"Maharajah-sahib, when I came here with letters from the government of India and asked you for a mission house in which to live and work, I told you that I came as a friend--as a respectful sympathizer.

I told you I would not incite rebellion against you, and that I would not interfere with native custom or your authority so long as acquiescence and obedience by me did not run counter to the overriding law of the British Government." Howrah did not even move his head in token that he listened, but his tired eyes answered.
"To that extent I promised not to interfere with your religion." Howrah nodded.
"Once--twice--in all nine times--I came and warned you that the practice of suttee was and is illegal.