rought in Ramabai in chains. Behind him came a Nautch girl,
at whom Umballa gazed puzzledly. What part had she in this affair? He
soon found out.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Lalla Ghori, and I live over the shoemaker, Lal Singh, in the
Kashmir Gate bazaar. I dance."

"And why are you here?"

"I saw the murder. Ramabai is innocent. He came upon the scene only
after the murderer had fled. They were fighting about me," naively.
"I was afraid to tell till now."

"Knock off those chains," said Kathlyn. Of Pundita she asked: "Does
he, too, speak English?"

"Yes, heaven born."

"Then for the present he shall become my bodyguard. You shall both
remain here in the palace."

"Ah, Your Majesty!" interposed Umballa. Pundita he did not mind, but
he objected to Ramabai, secretly knowing him to be a revolutionist,
extremely popular with the people and the near-by ryots (farmers), to
whom he loaned money upon reasonable terms.

"If I am queen, I will it," said Kathlyn firmly. "If I am only a
prisoner, end the farce at once."

"Your majesty's word is law," and Umballa bowed, hiding as best he
could his irritation.

The next afternoon he began to enact the subtle plans he had formed
regarding Kathlyn. He brought her certain documents and petitions to
sign and went over them carefully with her. Once, as she returned a
document, he caught her hand and kissed it. She withdrew it roughly,
flaming with anger. He spread his hands apologetically. He was on
fire for her, but he possessed admirable control. He had the right to
come and go; as regent he could enter the zenana without being
accompanied by the council. But, thereafter, when he arrived with the
day's business she contrived to have Pundita near and Ramabai within
call. On the sixth day he cast all discretion to the winds and seized
her violently in his arms. And, though she defended her lips, her
cheeks and neck were defiled. She stepped back; the hidden dagger
flashed.

"A step nearer," she cried, low voiced, "and I will strike."

Umballa recoiled. This was no longer Sa'adi's houri but the young
woman who had mastered the lion in the railway train. Rage supplanted
the passion in his heart. Since she would not bend, she should break.
As her arm sank he sprang forward like a cat and seized her wrist. He
was not gentle. The dagger tinkled as it struck the marble floor. He
stooped for it.

"Since you will not bend, break!" he said, and