Ragunáth was silenced, but very far from being suppressed. Indeed, the slight lifting of his eyebrows and the shrugging of his shoulders spoke as words could not speak; and Fidá was perilously near an outbreak. At this juncture, however, by intervention of a dilatory providence, Neila, and with her Churi, made their appearance from the temple. At sight of three figures in the field where they had thought to find one, or, at worst, but two, they came hurriedly forward to their lady, who stood awaiting them in silence. Ragunáth’s eyes were now fixed upon the face of Churi, who endured the look very well; for in his own way he was much interested in the situation. No words passed till Ahalya, indicating her slaves with a gesture, said icily: “Attend me.” And then, without looking again at the minister, but with the barest, fleeting glance at Fidá, she moved away toward the road, and was presently lost to sight among the trees near the ruin. The Arab and the Hindoo were left alone, face to face. Fidá’s eyes were fixed unwinkingly on Ragunáth’s. On the counsellor’s lips a half-smile hovered, and his expression had in it more of mockery than anger. When Ahalya was quite out of sight, he spoke, slowly: “So—slave. Art thou prepared to greet thy god in death?” Now Fidá’s lip curled. “May Allah receive me at the appointed time,” said he. “That time is near.” “Nay, Lord Ragunáth.” “‘Nay’? ‘Nay’? Knowest thou not that Rai-Khizar-Pál, hearing of this adventure of thine, will not leave thee an hour alive?” “Even that I do not know, Ragunáth. But, were it true, still, who shall tell the Rajah of the incident of the day?” “I, dog, shall tell him.” “Am I indeed a dog? Be it so, I am a dog that speaks. And I am not a thief.—Does thy master know thy taste in rubies, lord?” Ragunáth flushed scarlet. “Thou speakest like a madman!” “Nay, it is rather thou that art mad. Thou hast walked on dangerous ground before, thou traitor to honor; but never so near destruction as now. Hast thou told thy master of thy visit to the zenana courtyard on the day of the great sacrifice? Did he despatch thee to-day to the poppy field? Hath he ever trusted the honor of his lady in _thy_ hand? Oh, though thou couldst hush the mouths of all the eunuchs in the zenana, the story of thy bribes and treachery would be shouted aloud by every slave in Mandu.—Thus, the Lord Ragunáth is the madman.—A slave picks poppies in the field. A slave is near a lady when Ragunáth would speak with her. The slave has eyes, ears, and a tongue. Moreover, this slave understands honor, for he was born a prince. Speak, then, to the Rajah concerning this day’s incident. It were fitting he should know—” “Be silent, man!” “It seems I am become a man!” “Be silent,—or thou diest.” Fidá shrugged, but let the threat go. “_If_ I am silent, then?” he asked.