At the sounds Tom turned, and this was the strange sight he saw. In the centre of the vast circle and at some little distance from the snake-charmer, who, recognising probably a master in his craft, had drawn back, and was now close at Tom's elbow, stood the Ranee. She stood with her head proudly raised, so that she looked taller than before. One little foot was planted firmly on the ground, the other rested on the neck of the cobra, which cowered before her as if smitten with sudden fear. But the strangest part of all was that the black and gold saree had been thrown back and that her face was exposed. With parted lips Tom gazed. It was the face of a little child, soft and white, with rose-red lips, and smiling eyes, in which the golden light of summer dawns seemed to be sleeping, and--if he was not mad--if he was not dreaming--he had seen it before. CHAPTER XXIV SUBDUL Tom's first idea was that she, like himself, was a prisoner, and he was about to commit the terrible imprudence of flinging himself at her feet, and begging her to accept his protection, when the snake-charmer passing him by, brushed him as if by accident, and pausing, made a low salaam, and breathed an apology. There was a look in his face which arrested Tom's attention; under cover of the clamour which had not ceased, he said in a low voice and in Marathi, which was known to his spies, 'Are you a friend?' 'I am his Highness's servant,' said the man, 'and I will help him to escape; but he must be prudent. The White Ranee is black of heart.' As he muttered the last words, speaking them in so low a tone that no one but Tom could hear, he was moving towards the Ranee. She greeted him with a smile of childlike triumph, and he prostrated himself at her feet. Then, resuming his wand, and singing his lullaby-song, he enticed the monster into its basket, while the Ranee, having looked round her proudly, threw the black and gold saree about her head, and returned to the tent. The snake-charmer began now to circulate among the soldiers. He was full of stories and jests, and wherever he went he was received with acclamations. Tom, who had taken up his station under the tree to which Snow-queen was tethered, watched him moving to and fro. Presently he noticed a strange thing. It was only as long as the snake-charmer was in the midst of each little group that its members were joyous or lively. As soon as he left them they became silent, most of them falling shortly into a heavy sleep. This must have been apparent to others besides himself, yet there were none who did not watch for and expect his coming. Night had fallen before he had made his round of the camp, and then all, with the exception of two sentinels outside the tent, were in a deep slumber. He crept now to the neighbourhood of Tom's station, and professed to curl himself up for sleep. The sentinels watched him drowsily. After a few minutes of perfect silence, one of them sat down and leaned his back against a tree.