Since the arrival of the white goddess not a day had passed without some thrilling excitement, which had cost them nothing but shouts.
So they deserted the bazaars and markets that morning to witness the most surprising spectacle of all: the king who was dead was not dead, but alive! He appeared before them in his rags.

For Ramabai, no mean politician, wished to impress upon the volatile populace the villainy of Umballa and the council, to gain wholly, without reservation, the sympathy of the people, the strongest staff a politician may lean upon.

Like a brave and honest man he had cast from his thoughts all hope of power.
The king might be old, senile, decrepit, but he was none the less the king.

If he had moments of blankness of thought, there were other moments when the old man was keen enough; and keen enough he was to realize in these lucid intervals that Ramabai, among all his people, was loyalest.
So, in the throne room, later, he gave the power to Ramabai to act in his stead till he had fully recovered from his terrible hardships.
More than this, he declared that Pundita, the wife of Ramabai, should ultimately rule; for of a truth the principality was lawfully hers.

He would make his will at once, but in order that this should be legal he would have to destroy the previous will he had given to Colonel Hare, his friend.
"Forgive me, my friend," he said.