en or heard in the City of Fire. She urged that I must leave India
as quickly as possible. I had already learned that this remote society
was closely in touch with the affairs of the outside world. And, because
I knew I was leaving my heart behind there in the Indian hills, I
recognized that this dreadful parting must be final.

"Therefore I scarcely heeded her when she assured me that, should I ever
be in danger because of what had happened, a message in the Times
of India would reach her. I never intended to insert such a message,
gentlemen. I knew that it would need all my strength to close this door
which I had opened.

"I will spare you and myself the details of our parting. I passed out
from the City of Fire in the darkest hour of the night, through a long
winding tunnel, half a mile in length. I had protested to Naida that the
secret mark might be painted upon my arm and not branded, but she had
assured me that the latter was a necessity, and this now became evident;
for, not only three times was it subjected to scrutiny, but by the last
of the guards, posted near the outer end of the tunnel, it was tested
with some kind of solution.

"Silence and the salutation with the moistened finger tips, together
with the brand upon my arm, won me freedom from the abode of
Fire-Tongue.

"From a village situated upon one of the tributaries of the Ganges I
readily obtained a guide, to whom such silent, yellow-robed figures as
mine were evidently not unfamiliar; and, crossing the east of Nepal,
I entered Bengal, bearing a strange secret. I found myself in an empty
world--a world which had nothing to offer me. For every step south took
me farther from all that made life worth living."

CHAPTER XXXIV. NICOL BRINN'S STORY (CONCLUDED)

"The incidents of the next seven years do not concern you, gentlemen.
I had one aim in life--to forget. I earned an unenviable reputation for
foolhardy enterprises. Until this very hour, no man has known why I
did the things that I did do. From the time that I left India until the
moment when fate literally threw me in the way of the late Sir Charles
Abingdon, I had heard nothing of the cult of Fire-Tongue; and in spite
of Naida's assurance that its membership was not confined to Orientals,
I had long ago supposed it to be a manifestation of local fanaticism,
having no political or international significance.

"Then, lunching with the late Sir Charles after my accident in the
Haymarket,