mob. To his astonishment, he
recognised the distorted face which glared into his as that of the
Diwan Dwarika Nath, and found his help refused with a venomous curse.
The commander of the escort smiled.

"He has eaten the great shoe," he said, as though in explanation.

"But was the Rajah's sentence death?" demanded Gerrard.

"No," was the reluctant answer. "Whip back these dogs--it is the
Sahib's will," he said to his men. "And now, sahib, be persuaded to
remount. Our lord loves not to be kept waiting."

"But what has Dwarika Nath done?" asked Gerrard, as he complied,
leaving the fallen minister freed at any rate from the mob that had
persecuted him.

"He has doubtless been found out," was the cynical reply. "The word
went forth from our lord this morning that the fellow was to be beaten
with the great shoe immediately before the Sahib's arrival, and to be
driven forth from the city to meet him as he came."

Gerrard pondered vainly the connection between the two events. Did the
expulsion of Dwarika Nath synchronize with his own entrance as a
warning to him, or as an assurance of safety? Partab Singh, receiving
him in the utmost state, and leading him by the hand into the palace
between rows of salaaming courtiers, made no allusion to it, and the
attempted poisoning that very evening tended to overshadow the affair
in his mind. Gerrard never knew whether the Rajah had become aware of
the intended assassination beforehand, or whether he regarded it as so
extremely probable as to be practically a certainty. However this
might be, upon the appearance of a curry of which he was particularly
fond, and of which he had signified his intention of sending a portion,
as a special mark of favour, to Gerrard at his separate table, the old
ruler called the attention of all present to the exquisite appearance
of the dish, and ordered the cook to be fetched, that he might be
suitably complimented upon his handiwork. Gerrard discerned in the
man's aspect no more than the natural awkwardness of a rough fellow
brought into a position of unaccustomed prominence, but no sooner did
the cook present himself before him than Partab Singh rose with one
fierce word, and drawing his jewelled tulwar, cut off his head at a
single blow. The horror of the scene, the severed head rolling on the
ground, the blood sprinkled upon the food, affected the Englishman so
powerfully that he did not perceive at first that the dead man's son
an