Her determined air made him wince--her words stung him; and coward and craven that he was, he felt strongly tempted to put forth his man’s strength and dash her to the earth. He felt that he was beaten, and though he might kill the body he could not bend her will. He still retained his hold of her. Her hands were still on his shoulders, and she was keeping him off; but by a sudden twist he freed himself, and suddenly pressed her close to his breast. “You see how thoroughly you are mine,” he said, exultantly. Her answer was a piercing scream, again and again renewed, as she struggled to free herself. He had not counted upon this. It was a woman’s weapon, and served her in this case. He was fearful that her cries might be heard, and draw attention to his prisoner. He was puzzled for a moment how to act. She still screamed, and he dragged her towards the bed with the intention of trying to smother her cries. He was frustrated, however, by a knocking at the door. A pause. Flora heard the knock, and uttered a piercing shriek. The rapping was repeated. He literally threw her from him, so that she reeled and fell to the floor. “You infernal fool!” he hissed, “I will take your life inch by inch sooner than you shall escape me.” He inserted the key in the lock, and threw open the door. Wanna Ranu entered. She grinned unpleasantly and twisted her scraggy hands one about the other. “The white-faced cat yells,” she said; “why do you not gag her?” Wanna was not alone; there entered with her another woman--a native. It was Zeemit Mehal. With a cry of joy, Flora sprang to her feet, and, darting forward, threw her arms round Zeemit’s neck, exclaiming-- “Oh, Zeemit, save me! save me!” But Zeemit shook her off, as it seemed, savagely; and with an Indian grunt of contempt, said-- “As well might you appeal to the stones. Zeemit knows no pity for the Feringhee woman.” With a wail of pain, wrung from a heart filled almost to bursting, Flora sank to the floor; and Jewan’s joy found vent in loud laughter. CHAPTER XVI. A DEADLY STRIFE. “Your arrival is well-timed,” said Jewan, turning to Zeemit. “I see that it is so,” she answered. “I soon discovered in Delhi that you had left, and I determined to follow you, for poor old Zeemit is alone in the world now. I was lucky in meeting with Wanna. Some years ago I was in Cawnpore, and I knew her then. When she learnt that I had followed you, she lost no time in conducting me here.” “I am glad of it,” said Jewan. “My prize will be safely kept now. Guard her well, Zeemit; and you, Wanna, if you value your life, look to her! You understand? She has dared to defy me, and I swear to subdue her!” He crossed the room to where Flora still trembled, and crouched upon the floor. He stooped over, and said, with bitterness-- “I leave you now. Business calls me hence, but I shall return to-night, and then we will see who conquers.”