"Huzoor, have I not sought you without arms or escort? I and another have searched the palace these two hours. Leave your horse. I will have him tended. Come, sahib, I pray you. The Begum awaits you, but there are so many who know of your presence that I shall not be able to save you if you fall into their hands." These were fair-seeming words with the ring of truth about them. At any rate Malcolm's whereabouts were no longer a secret, and it would not be war but murder to offer violence to one who came with good intent on his lips if not in his heart. "Lead on," said Frank, sternly, "and remember that I shall not hesitate to strike at the first sign of treachery." "I shall not betray you, sahib, but you must converse with me as we walk and not draw too many eyes by holding a naked sword." This was so manifestly reasonable that Malcolm felt rather ashamed of his doubts. Yet, he thought it best not to appear to relax his precautions. "I would not pass through the palace with a sword in my hand," he said with a quiet laugh, "but I have a pistol in my belt, and that will suffice for six men." His guide set off at a rapid pace. When they were near the great arch leading into the garden they halted in front of a small door in a dimly-lighted building, and the native rapped twice with his knuckles on three separate panels. Some bolts were drawn and the two were admitted, the door being instantly barred behind them by an attendant. The darkness in the passage was impenetrable. Frank held himself tensely, but his companion's voice reached him from a little distance in front, while he heard other bolts being drawn. "You will see your way more clearly now," was the reassuring message, and when the second door was opened the rays of a lamp lit the stone walls and floor. They went on, through lofty corridors, across sequestered gardens and by way of many a stately chamber until another narrow passage terminated in a barred door, guarded by an armed native. The man's shrill voice betokened his calling, and Frank knew that he was standing at the entrance to the zenana. "There is one other within," said the guard, leering at them. "Who is it, slave?" asked Frank's guide scornfully, for he was annoyed by the eunuch's familiar tone. "Nay, I obey orders," was the tart response. "Enter, then, and may Allah prosper you." There was a hint of danger in the otherwise excellent wish, but the man unlocked the door, and they passed within.