There came a little pause, during which Churi, with his disturbing eyes, gazed steadily, smoothly, quietly upon the man that faced him, till Ragunáth fairly writhed under the look. Then Churi said: “It pleases the high lord to speak these words. Since it pleases him, it is well. But,” and the tone changed, “let him take care that he act not as he speaks. There are things more strange than unguarded antechambers that may come to the ears of the Rajah.” Churi’s eyes menaced now. Ragunáth gave some sort of hoarse ejaculation; and then, after wavering for a moment, he turned and walked swiftly away, nor halted till he was safe in his own rooms, with a personal slave or two on whom to wreak his wrath and his double mortification. Churi, left alone, was well pleased with himself. Luckily the self-satisfaction was not too great to prevent his having his wits still about him. He knew that this was Kripa’s watch, and in three minutes he had hunted out the deserter’s retreat, kicked him awake, and despatched him to his post thoroughly frightened. Yet Kripa was allowed to remain in possession of his gold; for Churi was in no position to expose the acts of the man he hated. Unlucky as it had already proved to its two principal actors, the little drama of the afternoon had further results. Ahalya, even in the anger of revulsion against Ragunáth, knew that there was another feeling in her heart: dared, after a time, admit to herself her disappointment that it had not been Fidá who thus boldly summoned her to him; for indeed she had gone to the anteroom, on Kripa’s summons, thinking to find her lover there. Before nightfall she knew that she longed to see Fidá again; and the more she repudiated the thought, the more insistent it became, until she yielded to it. In the early darkness Churi was despatched to bid him come to her that night. When Churi managed to waylay the slave, Fidá was on his way to the rooms where wine was stored, to fill a jar for his lord’s evening meal. It needed only a look between the two for the eunuch’s errand to be understood. Fidá laid a hand on Churi’s arm, and said, softly: “In the name of Allah, Churi, speak to me!” “There is no need,” answered the other, looking at him in a quizzical but not unkindly manner. “She will see me? I shall go to her again?” “To-night. As before.”