` Seventy-nine , eighty , eighty-one , ' the man counted to himself , stringing pearl after pearl so quickly that Kim could scarcely follow his fingers . He slid off the green shade and looked fixedly at Kim for a full half-minute . The pupils of the eye dilated and closed to pin-pricks , as if at will . There was a fakir by the Taksali Gate who had just this gift and made money by it , especially when cursing silly women . Kim stared with interest . His disreputable friend could further twitch his ears , almost like a goat , and Kim was disappointed that this new man could not imitate him . ` Do not be afraid , ' said Lurgan Sahib suddenly . ` Why should I fear ? ' ` Thou wilt sleep here tonight , and stay with me till it is time to go again to Nucklao . It is an order . ' ` It is an order , ' Kim repeated . ` But where shall I sleep ? ' ` Here , in this room . ' Lurgan Sahib waved his hand towards the darkness behind him . ` So be it , ' said Kim composedly . ` Now ? ' He nodded and held the lamp above his head . As the light swept them , there leaped out from the walls a collection of Tibetan devil-dance masks , hanging above the fiend-embroidered draperies of those ghastly functions -- horned masks , scowling masks , and masks of idiotic terror . In a corner , a Japanese warrior , mailed and plumed , menaced him with a halberd , and a score of lances and khandas and kuttars gave back the unsteady gleam . But what interested Kim more than all these things -- he had seen devil-dance masks at the Lahore Museum -- was a glimpse of the soft-eyed Hindu child who had left him in the doorway , sitting cross-legged under the table of pearls with a little smile on his scarlet lips . '
I think that Lurgan XXXXX wishes to make me afraid .
Hindu Japanese Kim Museum Nucklao Sahib Tibetan half-minute khandas kuttars