“And yet you seem to welcome me now.” “I do.” “Explain yourself, for this is a mystery.” “I was hasty the last time you were here. I have regretted that hastiness since. I have been so lonely, so miserable.” A smile of satisfaction stole over Moghul’s face as he replied, “I thought you would come to your senses. You Englishwomen are as fickle-minded as the wind is restless. But why have you regretted it?” “You made me an offer when you were here before.” “I did.” “Does that offer still hold good?” “Oh, oh--there is something in the air. What does this mean?” “It means that if you are still of the same mind, I will accept your offer and will go with you.” “So you have thought better of your decision, then. But why this change?” “That question is scarcely needed. I am very wretched. I prefer to place myself under your care than to remain longer a prisoner here; and if you will take me away I will go with you.” The man smiled inwardly with satisfaction. It was a triumph he had not calculated upon, and he was surprised and gratified. No suspicion crossed his mind, because he considered it would be impossible for a white person to escape from the city. Whatever control was exercised over the troops and other people about the Palace, the mobs in the city were lawless and revengeful, and to be an European was, in their eyes, a crime punishable with instant and cruel death. He, therefore, felt that when once he had got her outside of the Palace she would be thoroughly in his power, and to return to the Palace would be a feat no less difficult of accomplishment than to get outside of the walls. He fairly chuckled as he thought of this, and his coarse features displayed the satisfaction he felt. The loathing that Flora had for him was so great that it was only with great difficulty she could prevent herself from showing it. But she knew that in him lay her last hope, and if he failed, then all was lost indeed. “You have more sense than I thought you had,” he answered. “Come, give me your hand;”--she did as he desired;--“it is a nice soft hand, and looks very white in my black one, doesn’t it? You have fully made up your mind to go with me, then?” “Yes.” “That is good. Your flight must be provided for. The King must think you have escaped by yourself.” “How will you manage that?” “That is easy. Let me see now, what is the best plan? I have it. I will procure a rope, and make one end fast to the verandah, and let the other fall over the parapet of the terrace.” “That is a good idea,” she answered. “Yes, it will avert all suspicion from me.” “When will you take me?” “To-night.” “At what time?” “Late. I hold the keys of certain doors and gates, and I shall have the passwords, so that we shall not have much difficulty in getting out. Once clear of the Palace, a buggy shall be in waiting, and all will be well.” “I shall be ready for you,” she answered, as she withdrew her hand.