nd torture.

"I speak!" he answered, writhing.

"Speak, then!" said the Risaldar, choosing a larger coal. Then, in
the priest's language, which none--and least of all a Risaldar--can
understand except the priests themselves, he began to shout directions,
pitching his voice into a high, wailing, minor key. He was answered by
another sing-song voice outside the door and he listened with a glowing
coal held six inches from his eyes.

"An eye for a false move!" hissed Mahommed Khan. "Two eyes are the
forfeit unless they go down the stairs again! Then my half-brother here
will follow to the temple and if any watch, or stay behind, thy ears
will sizzle!"

The High Priest raised his voice into a wail again, and the feet
shuffled along the landing and descended.

"Put down that coal!" he pleaded. "I have done thy bidding!"

"Watch through the window!" said the Risaldar. "Then follow!"

His giant half-brother peered from behind the curtain and listened. He
could hear laughter, ribald, mocking laughter, but low, and plainly not
intended for the High Priest's ears.

"They go!" he growled.

"Then follow."

Once again the Risaldar was left alone with the priest and the
unconscious Ruth. She was suffering from the effects of long days and
nights of nerve-destroying heat, with the shock of unexpected horror
super-added, and she showed no disposition to recover consciousness. The
priest, though, was very far from having lost his power to think.

"You are a fool!" he sneered at the Risaldar, but the sword leaped from
its scabbard at the word and he changed that line of argument. "You hold
cards and know not how to play them!"

"I know along which road my honor lies! I lay no plans to murder people
in their sleep."

"Honor! And what is honor? What is the interest on honor--how much
percent?"

The Risaldar turned his back on him, but the High Priest laughed.

"'The days of the Raj are numbered!" said the priest. "The English will
be slain to the last man and then where will you be? Where will be the
profit on your honor?"

The Risaldar listened, for he could not help it, but he made no answer.

"Me you hold here, a prisoner. You can slay or torture. But what good
will that do? The woman that you guard will fall sooner or later into
Hindu hands. You can not fight against a legion. Listen! I hold the
strings of wealth. With a jerk I can unloose a fortune in your lap. I
need that woman there!"

"For what?" snarled the