"That is easily done, holy pilgrim," replied the other, with a laugh, at the secretary's sudden change of garment. "She is encamped here with a body of her Valaitis, in retreat from Kalpi. Come, I will take thee to her presence." The sentry led Bipin a short distance to an open space in which two or three hundred Valaitis were resting with their horses tethered at hand. Near a small camp fire the Rani was seated gazing pensively into the smouldering embers, kept purposely from rising into a blaze for fear of disclosing her place of concealment. She did not notice Bipin's approach until he had prostrated himself at her feet. Then she turned her eyes upon him without speaking. "Great Rani," he at last exclaimed. "Behold thy worthy servant, Bipin Dat." "Aye," she replied gravely but not unkindly. "Thou art a strange creature, appearing where least expected. Better would it have been for thee, good Bipin, if thou hadst taken another road than that which led to the Rani's camp. I would urge thee to seek speedily thy home, for with us henceforth there will be little use for thy pen." A note of sadness in her voice appealed to a sympathetic chord even in the timorous nature of her secretary. It reproached him with cowardice and infidelity to his beautiful, heroic mistress. "Lovely Rani," he cried penitently. "I vow hereafter I will never leave thy side, come good or evil fortune." "Bipin," she replied with lighter spirit. "Though the present hour is dark enough, it may yet be that those who follow me shall bask in the brightest sunshine. If thou art determined to be among them, thou hadst better seek thy rest, for by daybreak we must be far hence." A prudent man, the worthy secretary took a careful survey of the camp before deciding on his sleeping place. Not that there was much choice as regards a comfortable position. It was the bare ground for both the Rani and her attendants; but in his turban there were still hidden certain articles of value that might tempt the cupidity of the Valaiti troopers. If in guarding his sleep they despoiled him of his remaining possessions, he reasoned, that he would have paid overmuch for a night's security. In this dilemma, his eyes chanced to observe the well spreading branches of a tree, under which the Rani had taken up a reclining position. They suggested to him a safe retreat. With some difficulty he climbed the lower trunk and discovered a spot that nature might have constructed to suit his present need. He curled himself up where two stout limbs branched off into space, and amid the shelter of the foliage was soon fast asleep. The silence of midnight descended on the camp, the fire died low, an occasional grunt from the throat of a heavy sleeping trooper on the ground, and a sonorous gurgle from that of the secretary aloft, were the only noises distinguishable to the sentries.