But Chândni's recklessness had grown. 'I care not who has them. See! there are three of us here in this room who have handled the pot. Let her who hath it and its hoard speak truth, and save the little sahib. For he had it, sure enough; of that there is proof.' 'Three of us!' repeated Rose absently, as if struck by a thought. Then obeying a sudden impulse, she went over to a portfolio standing in one corner of the room. 'You mistake,' she continued, her eyes full on the courtesan. 'There are not three, but four of us. Look! Keene sahib painted that.' Chândni fell back, averting her face from the portrait of Azîzan, which Rose placed against an easel on the table. 'The evil eye! the evil eye! God save us from the witch,' she muttered, thrusting out her right hand in that two-fingered gesture which is used against a baleful glance in both East and West. But Gwen pressing closer looked at the picture with a dawning light of relieved comprehension in her face. 'Did he paint that--how pretty it is! And it explains--it explains--a--a great deal. He gave her the pot, I suppose--Well! it is a pity, but one ought not to be----' 'Ought not to be what?' interrupted Rose fiercely, with a fine scorn in her face, scarcely less concealed than the contempt with which she turned to the other woman. 'You both seem to know or understand this picture better than I do,' she said superbly. 'Perhaps you can tell me whom it represents?' 'My dear Rose,' expostulated Gwen, aside; 'don't for pity's sake ask that creature. What would your father say if he knew? You may mix yourself up----' 'Whose picture is it, I ask?' repeated Rose, unheeding. Then in the silence of Chândni's smile, and Gwen's frown, she turned passionately to the portrait itself. 'Why don't you speak and shame them? You look as if you could tell the truth, and if he made you so, it was true!' The very vehemence of her own fanciful appeal imposed on her, and she paused as if waiting a reply. It came with a laugh from Chândni. 'She was another of the little sahib's friends. The miss saith true. There are three of them here. Which will give back the pearls and save him?' 'Save him from what?' cried Rose, disregarding Gwen's appeals for her to leave the mad woman to the servants. 'What has Keene sahib done that you can dare to threaten?' The girl's bitter contempt roused all Chândni's savageness. After all she was the mistress, and this girl, despite her courage, in her power too; and what is more she should learn it. 'From what? from the shame which comes to the sahib-logue when their pretence of honesty is found out--from the shame of having friends--the shame of taking jewels for those friends--the shame of being untrue to salt--Ask the mem how 'tis done, she knows--the shame of sending the key of the sluice-gate so that the water----' Her voice had risen with each sentence; now it ended in a gasp and a gurgle.