rom us in that fashion. Tonight is not so dark, and the
River Police are watching all the way down."

"Furthermore," replied Stuart, "Chunda Lal, who acts as engineer, has
it in his power to prevent Fo-Hi's escape by that route! But we must
count upon the possibility of his attempting to leave by water.
Therefore, in disposing your forces, place a certain number of men
along the bank and below the house. Is there a River Police boat near?"

"Not nearer than Putney Bridge," answered Dunbar. "We shall have to
try and block that exit."

"There's no time to waste," continued Stuart excitedly--"and I have a
very particular request to make: that you will take Fo-Hi _alive."_

"But of course," said Gaston Max, "if it is humanly possible."

Stuart repressed a groan; for even so he had little hope of inducing
the awful veiled man to give back life to the woman who would have
been instrumental in bringing him to the scaffold ... and no
compromise was possible!

"If you will muster your men, Inspector," he said, "I will lead you
to the spot. Once we have affected an entrance we must proceed with
dispatch. He has alarm-bells connected with every possible point of
entry."

"Lead on, my friend," cried Gaston Max. "I perceive that time is
precious."

CHAPTER VI

"JEY BHOWANI!"

As the door closed upon Chunda Lal, Miska stepped back from it and
stood, unconsciously, in a curiously rigid and statuesque attitude,
her arms pressed to her sides and her hands directed outward. It was
the physical expression of an intense mental effort to gain control
of herself. Her heart was leaping wildly in her breast--for the
future that had held only horror and a living tomb, now opened out
sweetly before her. She had only to ply her native wiles for a few
precious moments ... and _someone_ would have her in his arms, to
hold her safe from harm! If the will of the awful Chinaman threatened
to swamp her individuality, then--there was Chunda Lal!

But because of his helpless, unselfish love, she hesitated even at the
price of remaining alone again with Fo-Hi, to demand any further
sacrifice of the Hindu. Furthermore--he might fail!

The lacquer door slid noiselessly open and Fo-Hi entered. He paused,
watching her.

"Ah," he said, in that low-pitched voice which was so terrifying--"a
_gaziyeh_ of Ancient Egypt! How beautiful you are, Miska! You
transport me to the court of golden Pharaoh. Miska! daughter of the
moon-magic of Isis