But in the hearts of these four men there is that which predominates even over the hatred. There is lust, there is the greed of gain, and the cringing, fawning servility which ignoble natures ever display towards those higher in the social scale than themselves, and upon whom the goddess of wealth has showered her favours lavishly. Two of the men we have seen before--they are Moghul Singh and Jewan Bukht. The other two are retainers of the King of Delhi. An hour ago, when Jewan had come down from Miss Meredith’s chamber up in the tower, he was surprised, not to say annoyed, to find Moghul Singh waiting for him. When the first greetings were passed, Jewan invited his visitor to this place, although he did not know the errand upon which he had come. But there was that in Singh’s manner and laugh which told Jewan that Flora Meredith was in some way, if not the sole cause of Moghul’s visit to Cawnpore. And this idea was very soon to be confirmed; for as the men gathered round the fire, and the hubble-bubble had been filled and passed, Jewan ventured to inquire the nature of his visitor’s business. Singh laughed, or rather grinned, and his eyes sparkled maliciously as the question was put. “To take back the Feringhee woman of yours, Jewan,” was the answer, an unpleasant one enough to Jewan; for, apart from the risks he had run on her account, he bore some sort of feeling for her; certainly not love, because that is a holy passion, and so, for the want of a better word, it must be called an infatuation. Well, bearing this feeling, being dazed by her beauty, and above all, having a strong desire to subdue her will, he could not reconcile himself to the thought of parting with her, nor was he altogether prepared to do so. “If that is the only object that has brought you here, methinks you will go back again empty handed,” he replied. Moghul grinned again--grinned with the self-assurance of a man who knows that he holds the winning trump card, that he can play at any moment to the discomfiture of his opponent. “I think not so, Jewan, my faithful one. Come, fill the pipe again; it need not be put out, even if you do not like my errand. Ah, ah, ah! By my faith, one would think by the look on your face that you had been called upon to disgorge a lac of rupees, instead of to give up possession of a woman that can only cause you a world of trouble.” “I am not so sure of that. At any rate, having caged the bird, I mean to keep her. She shall pipe for me alone.” “Oh, oh!--ah, ah! Pass the pipe; this smoke is comforting. You mean to keep her, eh? By the Prophet’s beard, Master Jewan, they are big words. Blow the charcoal, Hadjee,” turning to one of his companions, “that rice does not boil fast enough, and it is not good to laugh much on an empty stomach. You mean to keep her? Ah, ah! That is a good joke. Methinks you will need a strong cage then, and a good keeper.” “I have both.”