hand could not strike the blow, for if it did, my hopes of Paradise would for ever have gone. But I schooled myself to patience; to wait until chance raised up a deliverer. I hate Moghul Singh with a hatred that has no words. I loathe the King as a foul and loathsome thing. But I showed nothing of this outwardly. I knew that there was more to be gained by patience. I have been a witness to the plans that have been in preparation for months for this mutiny. The Nana Sahib of Cawnpore and the King of Delhi have frequently met in secret, and their agents have been sent to every town and village in India. And on the Koran they have sworn that the blood of the Feringhees should flow like water. I have waited patiently through all this plotting, for I said to myself, ‘Out of this a deliverer and avenger will come for me.’ My prayer was heard at last, and you came. Just before your arrival the King had been holding a counsel, in which the ‘rising’ was the chief topic. It was my good fortune to be present. When I looked upon you I said, in my heart, this shall be the righter of my wrongs. I knew that the moment you entered your fate was sealed, unless you were saved by a miracle. But I determined that I would save you. I heard the King give an order to Moghul Singh to consign you to the ‘stone room.’ It is the private prison of the Palace, and only those are brought here who are cast for immediate death. But I knew the secret passage leading to it. By the gift of a large amount of jewels to one of Moghul’s men, I procured a key of the door, and I am here to open it to you and set you free. In the garb of a peasant I am safe from molestation. I know the Palace and the city well, and I will save you. But in return, I must exact a promise that you will avenge me. And though you may not love poor Haidee, she will command your respect and friendship by her patience and fidelity.” She ceased speaking, and waited in breathless anxiety for his answer. More than once during her recital had her eyes been suffused with tears, her lip had quivered with emotion; and he had caught the spirit which had moved her, until he felt her wrongs to be his wrongs, and that it was his duty to avenge them. He laid both his hands upon her shoulders and looked full into her beautiful face--his own aglow, his eyes flashing, his nerves thrilling. “Haidee, you have made me your slave. I will avenge you.” Boom! The report of a heavy gun seemed to shake the building. “Come,” she said, taking his hand, “we have no time to lose. The gun announces that the mutineers are in sight. When the hoofs of the foremost trooper’s horse ring upon the bridge across the Jumna, the death-knell of the British in Delhi will be sounded.” She drew the dagger from her girdle and handed it to him. “Take this weapon. It will do until you get a better. The blade is poisoned, and if you but scratch the skin with it, death will speedily ensue. Come, quick; a key grates in the other door.”