is
arrogance in defying the request of their messenger to report his
intentions immediately upon landing to the men in the place on Jen Kee
Road.

He dragged the body into the darkest corner, where he covered it with a
mat.

Laboring above his keen anxiety regarding the intention of the band was
an eagerness to keep away from the two girls the sense of death, of
danger, which seemed to pervade this house.

A way would have to be found to break through the line outside; perhaps
they would be compelled to wait for daylight. Again sliding the bolt
which had been pushed back by the last trespasser, Peter slowly paced
the length of the hall in the meditation of active and acute worry. He
was still undecided when he pulled back the rug which cloaked the
entrance into the large room.

The room was in total darkness!

CHAPTER VI

An eye, red like the play of fire about a distant volcano crater,
glowed a number of paces in front of him. But not a candle, of the
dozens that had been burning when he last went out of this room, was
now lighted.

The scarlet glow he took to be the illumination under the altar of
Buddha. He heard a long sigh, a vague murmur of voices.

"Light the candles," he ordered angrily.

"What is the matter?" This was Anthony's voice; it sounded very drowsy.

A tiny flame appeared as if suspended by an unseen cord and moved to
the candle rail. One wick glowed; another; then another.

"Moore--Moore----" This was again the sleepy voice of Anthony.

A garish, gray figure arose and stumbled into the candle-light. It was
Anthony. His eyes were half shut. He seemed desperately sleepy, and
gibbering as if in a dream.

Peter turned savagely upon the girl. She seemed to cower away from
him, half lifting her hands as though in fear that he would strike her.

"Romola! Damn you----"

"Peter, I--I----" Her faint voice trickled off into a sigh of anguish.

"Drugs?" he demanded.

She shook her head anxiously.

"No, no. I--I----"

"What have you done to these people? What have you----"

She lifted up her head imperiously. "You are forgetting----" she began.

He had the fingers of her left hand between his, crushing them. She
dropped her head. Her fine lips were quivering. "What am I
forgetting?"

Anthony had grasped his elbow. "It's not right, Moore; not right to
talk to the princess like this. She's really noble. She's fine!"

"You're drunk, Anthony!"

"No, no, no,"