"How will you go about it? How will you manage a maniac?" Bamjee asked. "Easily. We would withdraw our protection--he would not last one day if he should fail us. Besides, the old hermitage has been his hiding place so long that he feels like a ghost that haunts it. Maniacs have iron minds. They yield up no obsessions. Rather than be driven from the hermitage Maraj would--anything. There is nothing he would not do rather than yield that hiding place. Part of the plan is to speak to the Ranee craftily about the hermitage, inducing her to claim she owns it. We defy her. She goes for a ride on the elephant. Somebody subtly suggests to her to ride toward the hermitage and take possession. Then I notify Maraj that she is coming to cast him forth. And there will be enough of us near the hermitage to be witnesses that she was on her way to seize temple property. Thus all Narada will know afterward that her death was a just penalty inflicted on her by the gods." * * * * * "Are you sure you can find Maraj?" "Oh, yes, I can always find him. I have only to make a certain signal. Then I meet him at a certain place. Two of us know that signal. One of us is with Maraj to-night. He was to try to persuade Maraj to kill Quorn, but the plan appeared to me ridiculous--too risky--too many chances for Quorn to escape. I am sure he will be back soon saying that the plan failed. I hope it does fail. To-morrow's plan is better because she and Quorn will both die at the same time--Maraj also, perhaps." "Much better," said Bamjee. "Here are three hundred rupees for you. There will be three thousand more if the plan succeeds. Will you be at the hermitage?" "Yes. Please bring the money to the hermitage. And now you had better go if I am to guide you and this woman without your being seen." "Come, woman! Come!" commanded Bamjee. But before he went he wrote his name in pencil on the toe of Siva's image. [Illustration: _Craftily Bamjee wrote his name in pencil on the toe of Siva's image._] "Proof," he muttered, "proof that I have been here might help, if the Brahmins--yes, it might help either way the cat jumps." Through a maze of passages, in darkness, up and down enormous stairs between enormous walls, they reached a narrow door at last that opened on an alley. When the door was shut behind them Bamjee sat down on the step. He had his pencil, but no paper, so he tore a corner off his cotton loin-cloth, and on that he wrote a short note to his wife. He gave it to the woman. "Take it to her," he commanded, "and say nothing until you see me. You will receive food and a bed to sleep in. But before you go to sleep, remember and remember and remember every word you heard that Brahmin say to me. Now run!" The woman ran. Bamjee sat still on the step, his head between his hands. He was tired to the verge of hysteria.