"Nay, but if I can save him from the torches, uncle," returned the hunchback, with a grotesque grin, "he will perhaps be grateful, and give his wealth to me." "Is it ready?" asked the chief. "Quite ready, my lord," answered Lukshmun, taking one of the lighted wicks from the large lamp between his finger and thumb, "For your life, speak, good fellow," he said earnestly and under his breath to the Lalla, "and save yourself this torture. One word more from him, and I dare not disobey; few bear it--speak!" "O, my lord! my lord!" shrieked the Lalla, now comprehending what was intended, and throwing himself prostrate on the ground, "do not burn me alive. I will speak the truth. Why should I tell lies?" "Very well," returned the chief, on whose lips the ominous foam speckles were now visible. "Very well, get up; it is thine own business. Thou hast not heard of our Dekhan customs, perhaps, else I had not wasted words on thee. Speak, who sent thee? Alumgeer? He cannot help thee now." "He would have no mercy on me if he knew--if he had me in his power," murmured the Lalla. "Loose me, my lord, I am faint, and cannot speak; yet I will speak the truth. And should all these hear? My lord knows best. Loose me, and have these rags taken from my fingers." "When thou hast told the truth, Lalla; not till then," said Pahar Singh, slowly. "Dost thou hear? Away, all of ye!" he cried to the attendants, who had crowded round the Lalla. "Keep the torch alight. Now, Lalla," he continued, as the man stood alone below the dais, "speak. Once more, and this is my last warning; if I hear any more lies I will end that coward life of thine." "Beware!" added Gopal Singh, "I would not be as thou art with that lying tongue of thine--ugh! no, not for lakhs. Remember that he, my uncle, never relents." "I would rather speak to ye alone," said the Lalla. "We three are as one. Yet stay," added the chief. "Go thou, Amrut Rao, let him have his own chance for life--but remain without." "Do any of ye know the seal of the Wuzeer of Beejapoor," said the Lalla, when they were alone, "or do ye know the writing of Sivaji, the Mahratta Rajah?" He spoke with great difficulty, for his mouth was parched and clammy, and his lips white. "Nay, but Sivaji cannot write, Lalla. This is some fool's story. Beware, too, how thou takest the name of my lord the Wuzeer," said the chief sternly. "My lord, my lord, with death before me and one chance for life, I cannot lie," returned the Lalla, sadly shaking his head. "My hands are tied; but if one of you will open that bag, there will be truth enough found in it to save me. There, Jemadar," he continued, as Gopal Singh opened the bag, "in the side pocket are two Persian letters, fastened up; look at them first; look at the seals. If I am wrong I am wrong--I am helpless, do as ye like with me; I am helpless." "It is the Wuzeer's seal, his private seal, uncle," said Gopal Singh excitedly. "Of this there is no doubt; look at it yourself."