him. Where is Sheikh Ahmed?'

"'Where, indeed, but in the burning house, endeavouring to save your
other victim?' I made answer, turning round and pointing with uplifted
arm to Devaka, who now was standing with hands held out beseechingly to
the throng, her face uncovered, full of entreaty.

"And even as we gazed the flames burst through the roof beneath her
feet, and the clouds of smoke almost hid her from view.

"There was no sign of Sheikh Ahmed, and I was greatly perturbed. What
had happened to him? Why did he not appear on the roof? From their
countenances I could see that the spectators were still unconvinced of
the presence of the man.

"Baji Lal up to this time had remained passive, his head bowed as if in
helpless acknowledgement of the power of destiny. But at my call he cast
his eyes upward with the others, and, beholding the form of his wife
through the eddying smoke wreaths, he broke out in loud and passionate
appeal.

"'Chunda Das, friends, neighbours, do not let her burn. She is innocent
of any crime. Do not let her perish. Chunda Das, cut my bonds, that I
may save her or die with her.'

"I was about to sever the thongs that confined his wrists and ankles,
when the patel laid a detaining hand on my shoulder.

"'Not so fast, not so fast, if you please. We have not yet seen Sheikh
Ahmed, and Baji Lal is still condemned to die.'

"I flashed an indignant look at the relentless man, but a cry of 'There
he is, there he is,' broke from the mob. And, sure enough, through the
clouds of smoke, could be seen the figure of the rescuer, crouching low
as he cautiously crept along the roof, with a hand on the parapet to
guide his movements. With bated breath we watched as he neared the
fainting woman, and then, rising to his full height, tore at the rope
which bound her to the stake.

"At last he had released her, and gathered her senseless form in his
arms. But a billow of black smoke blotted out the grim scene. A moment
of tense silence and sickening uncertainty. Then a great shout from the
throng, a shout of pent-up joy and relief, when the hero with his burden
came staggering out through the flame-framed doorway of the building.

"I rushed forward with the rest, and received Devaka in my arms. She had
swooned. I gazed at her rescuer in admiration, his face blackened, his
hair singed, his clothes torn. But could I believe my eyes? The brave
man who had sunk to the ground in a heap was not Sheikh Ahmed, bu