y you bring me here? Is that what your message means?"

"My message means that because of--the thing you know about--I am
suspected of the murder."

"You? You?"

"Yes, I, I! Good God! when I realize what your presence here means, I
wish more than ever that I had succeeded in finding death."

"Please don't say it," came a soft, pleading voice. "What can I do? What
do you want me to do?"

"I want you to release me from that vow made seven years ago."

Naida uttered a stifled cry. "How is it possible? You understand that it
is not possible."

Nicol Brinn seized her by the shoulders. "Is it possible for me to
remain silent while men are murdered here in a civilized country?"

"Oh," moaned Naida, "what can I do, what can I do?"

"Give me permission to speak and stay here. Leave the rest to me."

"You know I cannot stay, my Nicol," she replied, sadly.

"But," he said with deliberate slowness, "I won't let you go."

"You must let me go. Already I have been here too long."

He threw his arms around her and crushed her against him fiercely.
"Never again," he said. "Never again."

She pressed her little hands against his shoulders.

"Listen! Oh, listen!"

"I shall listen to nothing."

"But you must--you must! I want to make you understand something. This
morning I see your note in the papers. Every day, every day for seven
whole long years, wherever I have been, I have looked. In the papers of
India. Sometimes in the papers of France, of England."

"I never even dreamed that you left India," said Nicol Brinn, hoarsely.
"It was through the Times of India that I said I would communicate with
you."

"Once we never left India. Now we do--sometimes. But listen. I prepared
to come when--he--"

Nicol Brinn's clasp of Naida tightened cruelly.

"Oh, you hurt me!" she moaned. "Please let me speak. He gave me your
name and told me to bring you!"

"What! What!"

Nicol Brinn dropped his arms and stood, as a man amazed, watching her.

"Last night there was a meeting outside London."

"You don't want me to believe there are English members?"

"Yes. There are. Many. But let me go on. Somehow--somehow I don't
understand--he finds you are one--"

"My God!"

"And you are not present last night! Now, do you understand? So he
sends me to tell you that a car will be waiting at nine o'clock to-night
outside the Cavalry Club. The driver will be a Hindu. You know what to
say. Oh, my Nicol, my Nicol, go for my sake! You