carcely believe his eyes. The features were those of Marmaduke
Diggle. His heart thumped against his ribs. Never, perhaps, in the whole
course of his adventures, had he been in such deadly peril. The
appearance of the party had been so sudden, and he had been so deeply
engrossed with his musings, that he had not had time to think of his own
situation.

"Come, son of a pig," said Diggle at length, throwing himself from his
horse and beckoning to his syce, "we will search the place. There must be
something to show who the dacoits were."

He strode into the compound, followed by his trembling servant.

"Indeed, huzur," said the man in shrill tones of excuse, "we did our
best. But they were many: our livers were as water."

"Chup {shut up}, pig! Wait till you are spoken to," exclaimed Diggle,
turning angrily upon him.

"Achha, sahib! bahut achha, sahib {good, sahib--very good, sahib}!"

A vicious kick cut short his protestations, and the two passed out of
hearing of the two watchers above, the khansaman having brought his
quivering flabbiness to Desmond's side. Diggle passed into the entrance
hall, the native horsemen waiting like statues at the gate.

"It is the sahib!" whispered the shaking khansaman to Desmond: "Digli
Sahib. He will kill me. He is a tiger."

"Silence, fool!" said Desmond sternly: "there must be a way out.

"Jeldi jao {go quickly}! we shall be too late."

The man seemed glued to the spot with fear. The footsteps of Diggle could
be heard in the rooms below. In a few minutes he would reach the upper
story; then it would indeed be too late to flee. If they could gain the
back staircase they might slip down and hide in the garden. But fright
appeared to have bereft the khansaman of all power of movement.

Yet Desmond, for more than one reason, was unwilling to leave him. He
knew what Diggle's tender mercies were; but he also knew that the
khansaman, if discovered, would certainly try to purchase his safety by
betraying his companion. So, without more ado, seizing him by the neck,
Desmond shook him vigorously.

"Come!" he said in a fierce whisper, "or I shall leave you to face the
sahib alone."

This summary treatment shocked the man from his stupor. Stepping on
tiptoe he darted across the room, through the door communicating with a
room beyond, into a narrow passageway at the rear of the house. Here was
a second staircase leading downwards to the servants' quarters.

"Wait there," said D