He recognized King, and actually smiled.
"Well spoken!" he said rather patronizingly.

"You are brave and honest.
Your Government is helpless, but you and your friend shall live because of that offer you just made to me." Yasmini was collecting eyes behind King's back, and it needed no expert to know that a hurricane was cooking; but King, who knew her temper well and must have been perfectly aware of danger, went on talking calmly to the Mahatma.
"You're reprieved too, my friend." The Mahatma shook his head.
"Your Government is powerless.

Listen!" At that moment I thought he intended us to listen to Yasmini, who was giving orders to about a dozen women, who had entered the hall through a door behind the throne.

But as I tried to catch the purport of her orders I heard another sound that, however distant, is as perfectly unmistakable as the boom of a bell, for instance, or any other that conveys its instant message to the mind.

If you have ever heard the roar of a mob, never mind what mob, or where, or which language it roared in, you will never again mistake that sound for anything else.
"They have told the people," said the Mahatma.