Cleek quickened his steps and shortened the distance between them.

Now or never was the time to put to the test that wild thought which last night had hammered on his brain, for it was certain that this man was in very truth a Cingalese, and, as such, must know! He stretched forth his hand and touched the man, who drew back sharply, half indignantly, but changed his attitude entirely when Cleek, who knew Hindustani more than well, spoke to him in the native tongue.
"Unto thee, oh, brother!" Cleek said.

"Thou, too, art of us, for thou, too, dost acknowledge the sacred shrine.

These eyes have beheld thee." All his hopes rested on the slim pillar of that one word, "shrine," and his heart almost ceased to beat as he watched to see how it was received.

It broke, however, into a very tumult of disturbance in the next instant, for the man positively beamed as he gave reply.
"Sacred be the shrine!" he answered in Hindustani.