ely wrought ivory, and veiled from the court
where female attendants flitted noiselessly about a group of three
persons engaged in earnest conversation. One, a woman whose black eyes
had none of the languor of her race, reclined among embroidered
cushions. The splendour of her jewels proclaimed the Ranee. Emeralds,
rubies, and diamonds glittered on brow and arms. Before her on a
cushion lay a carefully folded and voluminous letter. Lal Singh lolled
at her side, and his gaze like hers was fixed on the ingenuous
countenance of Atma Singh, who stood before the Ranee. She wore no veil,
and as Atma encountered the gaze of her bold black eyes, he remembered
the sneer of Lehna Singh.

"Come near," she commanded; "you come to me from our good friend, Lehna
Singh. Let me hear what word you bring from him."

"I come, Maharanee," replied Atma modestly, "to obey your behests in all
things, but especially to undertake a perilous mission, which I am
assured will result in benefit to the faithful adherents of the Khalsa,
as well as to the interests of your highness and the Maharajah."

"I have heard," said the Ranee, "much of your devotion, courage, and
unswerving integrity, which render you peculiarly fitted for an
enterprise requiring singular daring and fidelity. Lehna Singh has not
scrupled to say that peril of life itself will even be welcome to so
brilliant a spirit."

Her mocking tone brought the blood to Atma's cheek, he scarce knew why.

"It is the high calling of a Sikh," said he, "to encounter danger, and
by the sword to confirm the Khalsa."

"It is a training that makes good soldiers," returned the Ranee, "but as
my claims may prove less potent than those of the Khalsa, I promise that
on your successful return you shall receive from my hands rare and
costly jewels, and gold whose yellow lustre will bid the treasuries of
the world to open."

"On the other hand," interrupted Rajah Lal, "remember that if we are
betrayed, from that moment you are surrounded by countless and powerful
foes, whose revenge you shall not elude."

The lion-heart of Atma beat high at this threat, to which he deigned no
reply.

"My reward has been named, Maharanee," he said, "than which the world
can hold no dearer. I will fulfil your embassy and return to you, but
the prize for which I labour needs no enhancement to make it worthy."

The Maharanee sought the eye of her companion with a glance of
satisfaction, but the Rajah's gaze was rive