in sympathy, however, with those bowed with grief,
Ramabai stooped and attempted to raise her.

She shrank from his touch, looked up and for the first time seemed to
be aware of his presence. Like a bubble under water, that which had
been striving for utterance came to the surface. She snatched one of
Ramabai's hands.

"Ai, ai! I am wretched. Lord, wretched! There is hot lead in my
heart and poison in my brain! I will confess, confess!"

Ramabai and Pundita gazed at each other, astonished.

"What is it? What do you wish to confess?" cried Ramabai quickly.
"Perhaps . . ."

She clung to his hand. "They will order my death by the silken cord.
I am afraid. Krishna fend for me!"

"What do you know?"

"His majesty was murdered!" she whispered.

"I know that," replied Ramabai. "But who murdered him? Who built that
cage in the palanquin? Who put the tiger there? Who beat and
overpowered the real bearers and confiscated their turbans? Speak,
girl; and if you can prove these things, there will be no silken cord."

"But who will believe a poor woman of the zenana?"

"I will."

"But you can not save men from the cord. They have taken away your
power."

"And you shall give it back to me!"

"I?"

"Even so. Come with me now, to the temple."

"The temple?"

"Aye; where all the soldiers are, the priests . . . and Durga Ram!"

"Ai, ai! Durga Ram; it was he! And I helped him, thus: I secured
permission to go into the bazaars. There an assault took place under
the command of Durga Ram, and my bearers were made prisoners. Durga
Ram, disguised as a bearer, himself freed the tiger which killed the
king. Yes! To the temple! She who confesses in the temple, her
person is sacred. It is the law, the law! I had forgot! To the
temple, my Lord!"

Before the high tribunal of priests, before the unhappy Kathlyn, before
the astonished Umballa, appeared Ramabai and Pundita, between them the
young woman of the zenana, now almost dead with terror.

"Hold!" cried Ramabai when the soldiers started toward him to eject him
from the temple.

"What!" said Umballa; "will you recant?"

"No, Durga Ram. I stand here before you all, an accuser! I know the
law. Will you, wise and venerable priests, you men of Allaha, you
soldiers, serve a murderer? Will you," with a wave of his hand toward
the priests, "stand sponsor to the man who deliberately planned and
executed the miserable death of our king? Shall it f