Mohurran Goshi rapidly led the Rani's secretary by dark, narrow alleys, to one of the gates of the city, and thence out a short distance along a by-path to a small hut secluded amid a clump of trees. The absence of a light and the usual yelping of mongrel dogs, suggested the inference that the place was, at least, temporarily uninhabited. Mohurran Goshi again enjoined the strictest silence upon Bipin and bade him remain in the shadow of an out-building, while he went forward apparently to reconnoiter. Bipin watched his guide approach the door cautiously and listen. In a few minutes the astrologer returned stealthily, and beckoned Bipin to follow. He led Bipin round to the rear of the house and halted beside an open window. From within two voices could be heard in conversation, for the greater part in an unintelligible undertone, but at intervals rising so that they could be plainly overheard. "Dost make out who it is that is speaking"? the astrologer asked in a whisper. "One voice rises familiarly on my ears," returned the secretary. "Hush"! enjoined the astrologer. "It is that of thine enemy, Prasad Singh. Wait patiently and listen." Bipin shivered. A groan of terror was only suppressed by the greater fear of being discovered. Presently the voice unknown to Bipin asked a question, distinctly heard without. "Dost think, my Lord, that sixty men will suffice for the affair"? "They will be enough," returned that of the other speaker, which Bipin believed to come from the mouth of Prasad. "We will carry the palace by assault, and make away with everyone who intercepts our progress, until we reach the person of the Rani." "To-morrow night thou hast determined on the attempt"? "To-morrow night. Be careful to come to the place of meeting at the tomb of Firoz Khan near the lake, one hour before midnight." "As thou commandest. Hast thou a particular desire to make a prisoner of anyone"? "Aye truly have I," came the quick rejoinder. "Thou wilt secure but deal gently with that arch rascal, Bipin Dat." Without, the astrologer clapped a hand over the secretary's mouth to prevent a wail of despair going forth upon the night. "Set thy knees and teeth, worthy Secretary," whispered the astrologer, "or they will shake the heavens down upon our heads." "Be very careful of him," continued the voice within, "as I have somewhat to say regarding his impertinence and presumption before cutting his nose and ears off, and flinging his liver to the dogs. Of all those about the Rani, him I detest the most." Bipin sank an invertebrate bundle of humanity to the ground. He entwined his arms about the astrologer's legs in a mute appeal for protection. His throat was incapable of uttering a sound. The astrologer stooped down and shook Bipin by the shoulder.