Mrs. Compton seemed to think far more of the letter than of escaping. The fact that she had a letter seemed to absorb all her faculties, and no other idea entered her mind. Beatrice had but few preparations to make; a small parcel contained all with which she dared to encumber herself. Hastily making it up she waited in extreme impatience for the time. At last two o’clock came. Mrs. Compton was in her room. There was a faint tap at the door. Beatrice opened it. It was Asgeelo. The Hindu stood with his finger on his lips, and then moved away slowly and stealthily. They followed. The Hindu led the way, carrying a small lantern. He did not show any very great caution, but moved with a quiet step, thinking it sufficient if he made no noise. Beatrice followed, and Mrs. Compton came last, carrying nothing but the note from Philips, which she clutched in her hand as though she esteemed it the only thing of value which she possessed. [ILLUSTRATION: “THE GIGANTIC FIGURE OF ASGEELO STOOD ERECT, ONE ARM CLUTCHING THE THROAT OF HIS ASSAILANT, AND THE OTHER HOLDING THE KNIFE ALOFT.”] In spite of Beatrice’s confidence in Asgeelo she felt her heart sink with dread as she passed through the hall and down the great stairway. But no sound disturbed them. The lights were all out and the house was still. The door of the dining-room was open, but no light shone through. Asgeelo led the way to the north door. They went on quietly without any interruption, and at last reached it. Asgeelo turned the key and held the door half open for a moment. Then he turned and whispered to them to go out. Beatrice took two or three steps forward, when suddenly a dark figure emerged from the stairway that led to the servants’ hall and with a sudden spring, advanced to Asgeelo. The latter dropped the lamp, which fell with a rattle on the floor but still continued burning. He drew a long, keen knife from his breast, and seized the other by the throat. Beatrice started back. By the light that flickered on the floor she saw it all. The gigantic figure of Asgeelo stood erect, one arm clutching the throat of his assailant, and the other holding the knife aloft. Beatrice rushed forward and caught the uplifted arm. “Spare him!” she said, in a low whisper. “He is my friend. He helped me to escape once before.” She had recognized Vijal. The Hindu dropped his arm and released his hold. The Malay staggered back and looked earnestly at Beatrice. Recognizing her, he fell on his knees and kissed her hand. “I will keep your secret,” he murmured. Beatrice hurried out, and the others followed. They heard the key turn in the door after them. Vijal had locked it from the inside. Asgeelo led the way with a swift step. They went down the main avenue, and at length reached the gate without any interruption. The gates were shut.