ger," he asserted, using a pronoun not intended to convey
politeness, but--Eastern of the East--counteracting that by courtesy of
manner. "Do you ask my aid?"

"Yes, among other things," Duncan McClean answered him. "I wish also
to speak about a Rangar, who I know is held prisoner in a cage in the
Jaimihr-sahib's palace."

"Speak of that later," answered Howrah. "Guard!"

He made a sign. A spoken word might have told the priests too much, and
have set them busy fore-stalling him. The guards rushed down the
steps, seized both McCleans, and half-carried, half-hustled them up the
palace-steps, through the great carved doors, and presently returned
without them.

"They are my prisoners," said the Maharajah, turning to the high priest.
"We will now proceed."

The crowd was satisfied, at least for the time being. Well versed in the
kind of treatment meted out to prisoners, partly informed of what was
preparing for the British all through India, the crowd never doubted
for an instant but that grizzly vengeance awaited the Christians who
had dared to remonstrate against time-honored custom. It looked for the
moment as though the high priest's word had moved the Maharajah to
order the arrest, and the high priest realized it. By skilful play and
well-used dignity he might contrive to snatch all the credit yet. He
ordered; the pipes and cymbals started up again at once; and, one by
one--Maharajah, Jaimihr, high priest, then royal guard, Jaimihr's guard,
priest again--the procession wound ahead, jewelled and egretted, sabred
and spurred, priest-robed, representative of all the many cancers eating
at the heart of India.

Chanting, clanging, wailing minor dirges to the night, it circled all
the front projections of the palace, turned where a small door opened on
a courtyard at one side, entered, and disappeared.

CHAPTER XVIII

Oh, is it good, my soldier prince and is the wisdom clear,
To guard thy front a thousand strong, while ten may take thy rear?

Now, because it was impregnable to almost anything except a
yet-to-be-invented air-ship, the Alwa-sahib owned a fortress still,
high-perched on a crag that overlooked a glittering expanse of desert.
More precious than its bulk in diamonds, a spring of clear, cold water
from the rock-lined depths of mother earth gushed out through a fissure
near the Summit, and round that spring had been built, in bygone
centuries, a battlemented nest to breed and turn out w