He washed from head to foot in the stream, standing knee deep in the black rush of water. Afterwards, as the light spread and mist wraiths crept out from the river, he walked through the jungle to the clearing. A heavy dew weighted the stems of grass and pearled the red sandstone robes of the idol. All the band, except the mysterious group of diggers who had appeared during the burial, stood in an untidy huddle round the neem tree. The light filtered grey and unwilling between the interstices of the jungle wall. It was cold, and William trembled. Last night in the grove everything had taken colour from the fire -- the jewels catching it, the faces glowing from it, the blood brightened by it. This morning the world and the people in it were grey, dusty white, dull brown.The Jemadar greeted him solemnly, looked about as though counting, and said, ‘One on sentry, three buying merchandise up the road, the rest all here. Are you ready Yasin?’Yasin nodded and stepped out of the crowd. He spread his own and another blanket on the grass, side by side in front of the neem tree.
