"I am burning!" he screamed, gasping with the ammonia fumes. "It is the fire of Tophet at my feet and nose." "Hazur, did I not say to thee, 'Touch not'? But thou wouldst not hear." "Dog, dost thou prate while I burn? The pain consumes me. Dost thou stand and look? Run for the hakim ere I perish." The khansaman started, and threw a scared look over his shoulder. Then he appeared to recover himself. "It needs not to call a hakim," he said. "I will myself ease the hazur's pain." He took some ghi from a dish, and smeared it quickly on the tortured feet. The grease gave instant relief. Minghal was effectually sobered now, but his temper must needs find a vent. His rolling eyes lighted on his two guests, who had lain undisturbed in a drunken stupor. "Carry me those swine to the street!" he cried furiously. "Will they remain here and bring down the wrath of Allah upon me? Fling them out, I say." Kaluja having reasons of his own for clearing the apartment, caught the men by the heels and dragged them unceremoniously to the door. Then he suggested that the hazur would be the better for a long night's sleep, and assisted his master to his bedroom. When he returned to the other room, he secured both the inner and the outer doors; then, furtively as a thief might move, he went to the almirah. Looking round as if to make sure even now that no one was observing him, he slid a portion of the back of the almirah aside, disclosing the stone wall of the room. He put his hand on one of the slabs of stone: it yielded to his touch, and opened slowly inwards. He stepped in, drew back the panel of the almirah to its former place, and disappeared. CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH Within the Gates It was still early morning when Ahmed rode up to the red walls of Delhi; but in spite of the hour there was already much traffic through the Ajmir gate. A long line of bullock-carts was filing along the Jaipur road past the garden suburb of Paharganj, conveying country produce into the city. A regiment of sepoys was marching out of the gate towards the encampment lying across the road. To the left of the gate rose the tomb of Ghazi Khan, and in the centre of the city towered the dome and minarets of the Jama Masjid--the splendid mosque which is the Mecca of Mohammedan India. Ahmed was amazed at the vastness of this city of the Moguls. He felt as a Highland lad might feel if suddenly transplanted from his little village among the lochs and mountains to the turmoil of London. Delhi had none of the aspects of a beleaguered city; indeed, it was never in the military sense besieged. The British force was far too small to attempt a strict investment of the great city. Men might go in and out as they pleased. The holders of the Ridge were far more closely beset. Save that his communications were open in the rear, General Barnard might himself have been considered to be in a state of siege. He was holding his ground, waiting for the opportunity to strike a blow.