Ahmad Khan, too, approached the temple, and passed by the sleeping figures. With noiseless tread he crossed the court, and stood upon the threshold of the shrine. Before him, the woman still knelt in wrapt devotion. For a moment his eyes feasted on her captivating form. Ah _Allah!_ his at last. With the prize seeming to his hand, the intoxication of the moment stayed his grasp. His opportunity was lost. A cry near by, shrill and prolonged, as of a beast relentlessly attacked by some more powerful adversary, rose upon the night. It echoed within the temple. The Rani started to her feet as Ahmad took a hasty stride forward. She seized a torch at hand and thrust it into the incense burner. Then facing him, she held it high above her head. Ahmad halted suddenly and trembled. The figure of the Rani, majestic and awe inspiring, posed before the dark image of the God, thrilled his soul with a first sensation of terror. She appeared to gaze full upon him, yet beheld him not. Her stature seemed to rise visibly before his eyes. The light of the torch flaring upward cast into strong relief the ornate decorations of the shrine, the countenance of Siva no longer buried in thought; but, in his non-Aryan aspect, wrathful and menacing. Her lips moved, but no sound came forth. She appeared to be enveloped in an ecstatic dream. Before his fixed gaze, strange beings floated in the air. Ancient Vedic Gods, the bright and shining ones. Indra the rain bringer, Agni the God of fire, Vayu of the wind, Rudra the ruler of the tempest; their very names long since buried in oblivion to the multitude. They gathered about the transfigured form of the Rani, as if to protect her from a shadow of harm. Was the scene but the effect of a feverish imagination? In contradiction to the tenets of his religion, superstitious of all that was visionary and inexplicable, Ahmad was ready to believe the whole a dread reality, a manifestation of divine blessing resting upon the head of the girl. He would have cried aloud for mercy, but terror had bereft his tongue of speech. He clasped his brow tightly. For a moment he reeled, then fell to the pavement. The night was lost and won. Chapter XV _IN THE COURSE OF EVENTS_ Many days had passed beneath the Rani's feet. Almost hourly the loom of peril rose threateningly upon her position. From every source, with unrelenting persistence, the worst news came to shatter the hopes of those who had espoused the Native cause in Jhansi. First the report of the recapture and looting of Delhi was confirmed; to which was added the intelligence that the aged Emperor was a prisoner in the enemy's hands, and that his sons had been slaughtered. Then that Lucknow was relieved, and the army of the Peshwa put to flight. Reports of other reverses succeeded one another with disheartening rapidity.