He sat considering the Ranee and his duty to her, wondering whether it was possible, in these democratic days, to be the benevolently autocratic ruler that she aspired to be. He knew there are more than a hundred different kinds of government in India, ranging from a theocratic despotism to the fringes of fascism and socialistic experiment. "Tyrannies, all of 'em," he muttered. "Maybe she can do it." He spoke louder than he realized--and suddenly he almost leaped out of his chair. "Of course I can!" a voice said quietly behind him. It was the Ranee herself, in riding-breeches. He jumped to his feet, but it hurt his ankles, so he leaned against the railing. "No, you are not dreaming, Mr. Quorn. You talk aloud so often to your elephant that you think aloud when you are alone. It is dangerous. And those others all talk at the top of their voices, which is foolish; but people are ruled by being foolish, not by any wisdom in their rulers. Have you heard of Haroun-al-Raschid--and Peter the Great--and Amir Abdurrahman? Each of them was his own secret service. I follow in their footsteps, in some respects. "Do please be seated, Mr. Quorn. I came when I learned that Rana Raj Singh had been sent for, and I have been listening. Maraj was within three feet of me--he even touched me without knowing it. Mr. Blake looked straight at me through the hole that Maraj made in the trellis. How blind men are unless they know what they are looking for! I heard what you said. Have you anything to tell me that you haven't told those others?" "Yes, miss! You go home! This ain't no place or time o' night for pretty ladies with a throne to lose! Who came with you?" "Nobody." "No guards nor nothing? I'll be sugared! The President o' the United States can't move around without he's watched, and he's supposed to live in a safe country. Prince Rana Raj Singh--what will he say?" "We will soon know," she answered. "I hear him coming." Blake came up the steps to the veranda. Rana Raj Singh caught sight of the Ranee in the lamp-light and vaulted out of the saddle over the veranda rail. His gesture as he stood before her was inimitable, blended of an Old World courtesy, a lover's privilege, anger, self-control, a sense of outraged dignity, and hopelessness of ever teaching her the elements of common sense. But he was too steeped in dignity to reproach her in Quorn's presence. Blake had less compunction. "You?" he said. "At this hour? Have you come to claim protection? No? What do you suppose my government will think of a queen of your age who runs such personal risks in darkness? Don't you realize your enemies will represent--" Her musical answering laugh disarmed him. "I came for sport!" she said. "Politicians are fogeys, but is there any need to lecture Mr. Blake on sportsmanship? Rana Raj Singh is another story. Listen!" She laid her right hand on the Rajput's. He seized it and the slumbering fire in his dark eyes leaped into passion, but he subdued that.