"They scent the stranger," said Partab Singh, turning the lantern to show first the huge lioness, almost black in colour, which had betrayed her presence by snarling, and then her mate, looking indescribably sulky and wounded in his self-esteem owing to the failure of his leap. "The gate is open; does my friend wish to return?" It is no discredit to Gerrard that he was obliged to pull himself together before he could reply with suitable unconcern, "Is this the secret, then, Maharaj-ji? If not, let us go on," and the Rajah smiled grimly. "Keep to the middle of the den, then," he said, as he fastened the gate. "The beasts are chained, and cannot touch you there." That the honour of the Rajah's friendship was not without its drawbacks was a fact that had already forced itself upon Gerrard's mind that evening, and he now began to wonder whether its value was altogether correspondent to the severe tests it seemed to demand. The lions might be chained, but their chains were quite unnecessarily long, and they walked about in a highly disquieting manner while the Rajah was busy at the back of the den. Gerrard held the lantern, and hoped fervently that his hand did not shake--he was too much shaken himself to know whether it did or not. In the rear wall of the cage were several iron rings fixed to staples, to which chains might be attached, and through one of these Partab Singh passed his sheathed dagger, and gave it a sharp twist. Then, removing the dagger, he began to turn the ring the other way with his hands. When he had done this apparently an interminable number of times, Gerrard ventured to ask if he might help. An angry gesture of negation answered him, and he resigned himself to wait, while the lions strained at their chains. At last a great stone moved out like a door, and the Rajah entered, and motioned Gerrard to follow. Closing the door with a movement of his finger, he turned to his companion. "The ring must be turned nine-and-twenty times, no more and no less," he said. "If you turn it less, no effect will follow, but if more, a great stone descends and blocks the entrance." He led the way along a passage lined with masonry, which turned and twisted bewilderingly. At one point there was a deep recess, apparently intended for a window, but unfinished. Partab Singh motioned Gerrard to place his eye at a particular spot. There was a hole there, and to his surprise light came through. He looked into a great room or vault in which a lamp was burning. The rays fell upon elephant-trappings glittering with gold, jewelled bridles and saddlecloths, robes of gold tissue or priceless shawl-fabric, and a number of gaily painted boxes, such as the native goldsmiths used to contain their wares, and money-changers their stock of cash.