“I am trying to recollect more about Premi and the days that are past,” was the reply. “I remember that the little child cried and called for her mother, and that I tried to quiet her with bits of sugar-cane; but I supposed that the dead mother was a Pathan. There is a woman in the fort who could, I feel sure, tell a great deal more about Premi than I am able to do. Has the Mem noticed an old bibi with one eye who goes about in the zenana?” Robin translated the question to Alicia, who replied, “I remember well an old woman with one blind eye: she is always talking; she interrupted me every minute.” “That bibi was the first to carry in the white little girl,” observed Kripá Dé. “That Jai Dé has said strange things about Premi; they are coming back to my mind. Were she questioned, I am certain that she could tell a good deal more.” “What things has she said?” asked Robin. “I have heard her remark, more than once, that it was unlucky to bring into the fort a child of blood. I supposed from that word that Premi’s father had been probably killed in some feud; but with the Pathans that is a thing too common to attract much notice. Jai Dé has also said that it must have been to keep off some bhut [demon] that a black charm had been hung round the little girl’s neck.” “A black charm!” exclaimed Alicia eagerly, after the words had been translated. “Can she have meant a black locket?” “Likely enough. But what makes this strike you so much?” “After my grandmother’s death,” said Alicia, “her husband gave a black memorial locket to each of her female descendants. There were seven purchased; two went to my cousins in India, and I have another. The seven were exactly of the same pattern, with a little inscription, initials, and a date. If Premi had a locket like mine, I should feel perfectly certain that she is my cousin.” Robin, eager as Alicia herself, closely questioned the Kashmiri. But the youth could only reply on the authority of Jai Dé that the charm worn by Premi was black; he had never himself seen it. “But I will try to see it, if it has not been thrown away,” he cried, rising hastily from the ground. “I will get from Jai Dé all that she knows; I will go back at once to the fort.” “Stop, madman!” cried Robin, who had sprung to his feet, and who now laid a strong grasp on the convert’s shoulder. “If you go back now, we shall never set eyes on you again. Where does your family suppose you to be at this moment?” “On a pilgrimage to the shrine of Máta Devi at Rangipur,” replied the Kashmiri. “I am not expected back at the fort till to-morrow at sunset.” “I hope that you did not tell your people that you were going on pilgrimage?” observed Robin gravely. “Of course I did, or I could not have got away,” replied the convert, without any appearance of shame. “It was a lie,” said Robin bluntly. “I am sure that my brother did not know that you had told one, or he would never have consented to your being baptized to-morrow.”