Presently they came to a parting of the road. A narrow path led amid a growth of trees to the brink of the lake. Massively the white square walls of the tomb of Firoz Khan, with its central dome became visible through the branches. The party halted. "What now, my Lord"? the owner of the voice that had returned the wayfarer's salutation asked. "Noble Rani," that of Ahmad Khan replied, "yonder is our destination. Behind the wall thou canst just discern to the right, lie, well concealed, a hundred of thy Valaiti bodyguard; but I know not if the conspirators are assembled." At the moment a white cloth was waved thrice above the wall. Ahmad evidently took it for a signal. He spoke in a low tone. "Whoever the villains may be, they are now gathered together. Here I will leave thee to pass in hiding to the guard, while if thou art still determined upon the enterprise, thou hadst better advance boldly to the entrance. For the rest, I make no doubt thine own judgment and discretion, will serve thee better than any advice of mine." "Well said, my faithful Ahmad," the Rani answered. "Thou art certain to hear my call if need be from yonder hiding place"? "Were it softer than the note of the bulbul, fair Lady, be assured, it would reach me even at the gate of Paradise." Thus while Ahmad stealthily disappeared among the trees, the Rani motioned her waiting woman to follow, and proceeded fearlessly toward the entrance of the tomb. That those within had taken measures to prevent a surprise was demonstrated by a challenge the moment that the Rani emerged into the open space about the building. "Stand! who comes"? a voice demanded. The Rani replied promptly in firm accents. "Two followers of the noble Prasad Singh." A short period of consultation among the conspirators apparently ensued. Without, the Rani awaited the answer with deep emotion. Would the report prove true or false, that he whom she loved was a traitor as well as a libertine? Presently the response came. "It is well, advance." "Alas! it is ill," her heart murmured. "Ah God! the ingratitude, the cruelty of it." She advanced to the open door and entered the main chamber of the tomb. A shaded lamp dimly illuminated the interior. Her glance swept quickly from the five or six armed men gathered in a group, to a stalwart form she intuitively recognized as that of Prasad Singh, in spite of the disguise he had assumed. He was pacing to and fro a little apart from his companions, as if impatient of some detail of his plan yet to be completed. He turned quickly on her entrance and spoke in a voice of stern rebuke. "Thou art late," he exclaimed. "Thou hast kept us waiting long after the appointed hour." "Pardon, my Lord," replied the Rani, halting in the dark shadow of a pillar. "Our steps were misdirected."