"I permit you some moments of reflection," he said, "in order that you may compose yourself to receive the addresses which I shall presently have the honour, and joy, of making to you. Yes--this door is unlocked." He threw the keys on the table. "I respect your promise ... and Chunda Lal guards the _outer_ exits." He opened the further door, by which he had entered, and went out. Miska, through the fingers of her shielding hands, watched him go. When he had disappeared she sprang up, clenching her teeth, and her face was contorted with anguish. She began to move aimlessly about the room, glancing at the many strange objects on the big table and fearfully at the canopied chair beside which hung the bronze bell. Finally: "Oh, Chunda Lal! Chunda Lal!" she moaned, and threw herself face downward on the _diwan,_ sobbing wildly. So she lay, her whole body quivering with the frenzy of her emotions, and as she lay there, inch by inch, cautiously, the nearer door began to open. Chunda Lal looked in. Finding the room to be occupied only by Miska, he crossed rapidly to the _diwan,_ bending over her with infinite pity and tenderness. "Miska!" he whispered softly. As though an adder had touched her, Miska sprang to her feet--and back from the Hindu. Her eyes flashed fiercely. "Ah! _you! you!"_ she cried at him, with a repressed savagery that spoke of the Oriental blood in her veins. "Do not speak to me--look at me! Do not come near me! I hate you! God! how I hate you!" "Miska! Miska!" he said beseechingly--"you pierce my heart! you kill me! Can you not understand----" "Go! go!" She drew back from him, clenching and unclenching her jewelled fingers and glaring madly into his eyes. "Look, Miska!" He took the gold chain and amulet from his bosom. "Your token! Can you not understand! _Yah Allah!_ how little you trust me-- and I would die for one glance of your eyes! "_He_--Stuart Sahib--has gone, gone long since!" "Ah! Chunda Lal!" Miska swayed dizzily and extended her hands towards him. Chunda Lal glanced fearfully about him. "Did I not," he whispered, with an intense ardour in his soft voice,-- "did I not lay my life, my service, all I have, at your feet? Did I not vow to serve you in the name of _Bhowani!_ He is long since gone to bring his friends--who are searching from house to house along the river. At any moment they may be here!" Miska dropped weakly upon her knees before him and clasped his hand. "Chunda Lal, my friend! Oh, forgive me!" Her voice broke. "Forgive ..." Chunda Lal raised her gently. "Not upon your knees to _me,_ Miska. It was a little thing to do--for you. Did I not tell you that _he_ had cast his eyes upon you? Mine was the voice you heard to cry out. Ah! you do not know; it is to gain _time_ that I seem to serve _him!_ Only this, Miska"--he revealed the blade of a concealed knife--"stand between Fo-Hi and--you! Had I not read it in his eyes!" He raised his glance upward frantically.