ghtlessly pushed it toward Kathlyn, who sat at his right.

Imbued with a sense of gratitude for Ramabai's patience and kindness
and assistance through all her dreadful ordeals, Kathlyn sprang up
suddenly, and without looking reached for what she supposed to be her
own goblet, but inadvertently her hand came into contact with
Ramabai's. What she had in mind to say was never spoken.

The majordomo stood appalled. This wonderful white woman over whom the
gods watched as they watched the winds and the rains, of whom he had
not dared speak to Umballa. She? No! He saw that he himself must
die. He seized the goblet ere it reached her lips, drank and flung it
aside, empty. He was as good as dead, for there were no antidotes for
poisons Umballa gave. Those seated about the table were too astonished
to stir. The majordomo put his hands to his eyes, reeled, steadied
himself, and then Ramabai understood.

"Poison!" he gasped, springing up and catching the majordomo by the
shoulders. "Poison, and it was meant for me! Speak!"

"Lord, I will tell all. I am dying!"

It was a strange tale of misplaced loyalty and gratitude, but it was
peculiarly oriental. And when they learned that Umballa was hidden in
his own house and the king in a hut outside the city, they knew that
God was just, whatever His prophet's name might be. Before he died the
majordomo explained the method of entering the secret chamber.

The quail and pheasant, the fruits and wine remained untouched. The
hall became deserted almost immediately. To the king, first; to the
king! Then Umballa should pay his debt.

They found the poor king in the hut, in a pitiable condition. He
laughed and babbled and smiled and wept as they led him away. But in
the secret chamber which was to have held Umballa there was no living
thing.

For Umballa had, at the departure of the majordomo, conceived a plan
for rehabilitation so wide in its ramifications, so powerful and
whelming, that nothing could stay it; once it was set in motion. The
priests, the real rulers of Asia; the wise and patient gurus, who held
the most compelling of all scepters, superstition! Double fool that he
had been, not to have thought of this before! He knew that they hated
Ramabai, who in religion was an outcast and a pariah, who worshiped but
a single God whom none had ever seen, of whom no idol had been carved
and set up in a temple.

Superstition!

Umballa threw off his robes and d