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Miska swayed dizzily and extended her hands towards him. Chunda Lal glanced fearfully about him.

"Did I not," he whispered, with an intense ardour in his soft voice,-- "did I not lay my life, my service, all I have, at your feet? Did I not vow to serve you in the name of _Bhowani!_ He is long since gone to bring his friends--who are searching from house to house along the river. At any moment they may be here!"

Miska dropped weakly upon her knees before him and clasped his hand.

"Chunda Lal, my friend! Oh, forgive me!" Her voice broke. "Forgive ..."

Chunda Lal raised her gently.

"Not upon your knees to _me,_ Miska. It was a little thing to do--for you. Did I not tell you that _he_ had cast his eyes upon you? Mine was the voice you heard to cry out. Ah! you do not know; it is to gain _time_ that I seem to serve _him!_ Only this, Miska"--he revealed the blade of a concealed knife--"stand between Fo-Hi and--you! Had I not read it in his eyes!"

He raised his glance upward frantically.

_"Jey Bhowani!_ give me strength, give me courage! For if I fail ..."

He glared at her passionately, clutching his bosom; then, pressing the necklet to his lips, he concealed it again, and bent, whispering urgently:

"Listen again--I reveal it to you without price or hope of reward, for I know there is no love in your heart to give, Miska; I know that it takes you out of my sight for always. But I tell you what I learn in the house of Abdul Rozan. Your life is your own, Miska! With the needle"--yet closer he bent to her ear and even softer he spoke--"he pricks your white skin--no more! The vial he sends contains a harmless cordial!"

"Chunda Lal!"

Miska swayed again dizzily, clutching at the Hindu for support.

"Quick! fly!" he said, leading her to the door. "I will see _he_ does not pursue!"

"No, no! you shall shed no blood for me! Not even _his_. You come also!"

"And if he escape, and know that I was false to him, he will _call me back,_ and I shall be dragged to those yellow eyes, though I am a thousand miles away! _Inshalla!_ those eyes! No--I must strike swift, or he robs me of my strength."

For a long moment Miska hesitated.

"Then, I also remain, Chunda Lal, my friend! We will wait--and watch -and listen for the bells--here--that tell they are in the grounds of the house."

"Ah, Miska!" the glance of the Hindu grew fearful--"you are clever--but _he_ is the Evil One! I fear for you. Fly now. There is yet time ..."

A faint sound attracted Miska's attention. Placing a quivering finger to her lips, she gently thrust Chunda Lal out into the corridor.

"He returns!" she whispered: "If I call--come to me, my friend. But we have not long to wait!"

She closed the door.

CHAPTER V

WHAT HAPPENED TO STUART

Stuart had gained the end of the corridor, unmolested. There he found a short flight of steps, which he descended and came to a second corridor forming a right angle with the first. A lamp was hung at the foot of the steps, and by its light he discerned a shadowy figure standing at the further end of this second passage.

A moment he hesitated, peering eagerly along the corridor. The man who waited was Chunda Lal. Stuart approached him and silently placed in his hand the gold amulet.

Chunda Lal took it as one touching something holy, and raising it he kissed it with reverence. His dark eyes were sorrowful. Long and ardently he pressed the little trinket to his lips, then concealed it under the white robe which he wore and turned to Stuart. His eyes were sorrowful no more, but fierce as the eyes of a tiger.

"Follow!" he said.

He unlocked a door and stepped out into a neglected garden, Stuart close at his heels. The sky was cloudy, and the moon obscured. Never glancing back, Chunda Lal led the way along a path skirting a high wall upon which climbing fruit trees were growing until they came to a second door and this also the Hindu unlocked. He stood aside.

"To the end of this lane," he said, in his soft queerly modulated voice, "and along the turning to the left to the river bank. Follow the bank towards the palace and you