I wanted him to catch a golden eagle this morning, and tame it for Miss Westonhaugh, but he said it would eat the jackal and probably the servants, so I have given it up for the present." Isaacs was evidently in a capital humour.
Ram Lal approached us.
I saw at a glance that Ram Lal the Buddhist, when on his beats in the civilisation of Simla, was one person.

Ram Lal, the cultured votary of science, among the hills and the beasts and the specimens that he loved, was a very different man.

He was as gray as ever, it is true, but better defined, the outlines sharper, the features more Dantesque and easier to discern in the broad light of the sun.

He did not look now as if he could sit down and cross his legs and fade away into thin air, like the Cheshire cat.

He looked more solid and fleshly, his voice was fuller, and sounded close to me as he spoke, without a shadow of the curious distant ring I had noticed before.
"Ah!" he said in English, "Mr.Griggs, at last! Well, you are in plenty of time.