proached the arch again.

It would be useless to try to read her mind, or to translate the glitter
of her beady eyes into thoughts intelligible to any but an Oriental.
It was quite clear, though, that she wished not to be noticed, that she
feared the occupants of the caravansary, and that she had returned for
word with Ali Partab. He, least of all, would have doubted her intention
of demanding the two gold mohurs, for it was she who had brought the
word that Miss McClean wanted him. But what relation that intention
had to her loyalty or treachery, or whether she were capable of
either--capable of anything except greed, and obedience for the sake of
pay--were problems no man living could have guessed.

She asked the lounging sweeper by the arch whether Ali Partab had ridden
out as yet. He jeered back outrageous improprieties, suggestive of
impossible ambition on the hag's part. She called him "sahib," dubbed
him "father of a dozen stalwart sons," returned a few of his immodest
compliments with a flattering laugh, and learned that Ali Partab was
still busy in the caravansary. Then she proceeded to make herself
very inconspicuous beside a two-wheeled wagon, up-ended in the gutter
opposite the arch, and waited with eastern patience for the horseman to
ride out.

She saw the fat Hindoo come back, in no particular hurry now, and seat
himself not far from her. Later she saw eight horsemen ride down the
street, pass the arch, wheel, and halt. She noticed that they were
not Maharajah Howrah's men but a portion of his brother Jaimihr's
body-guard, then took no further notice of them. If they chose to wait
there, it was no affair of hers, and to appear inquisitive would be to
invite a lance-butt, very shrewdly thrust where it would hurt.

It was an hour at least before Ali Partab rode out through the arch,
looking down anxiously at his horse's off-hind that had been showing
symptoms of "brushing" lately. Joanna rose instantly to cross the street
and intercept him; and she recoiled in the nick of time to save herself
from being ridden down.

At a sign from the fat Hindoo the eight horsemen spurred, and swooped
up-street with the speed and certainty of sparrow-hawks and the noise of
devastation. They rode down Ali Partab--unhorsed him--bound him--threw
him on his horse again--and galloped off before any but the Hindoo had
time to realize that he was their objective. He was gone--snatched
like a chicken from the coop. Noise and