He laughed. "I can't talk ethics at this time of night, Star of my
heart. It's time we went to our lair. I believe you would sit here till
sunrise if I would let you, you most ethereal of women. Do you ever
think of your body at all, I wonder?"

He kissed her neck with the careless words, and a quick shiver went
through her. She made a slight, scarcely perceptible movement to free
herself.

But the next moment sharply, almost convulsively, she grasped his arm.
"Ralph! What is that?"

She was gazing towards the shadow cast by a patch of flowering azalea in
the moonlight about ten yards from where they sat. Dacre raised himself
with leisurely self-assurance and peered in the same direction. It was
not his nature to be easily disturbed.

But Stella's hand still clung to his arm, and there was agitation in her
hold. "What is it?" she whispered. "What can it be? I have seen it
move--twice. Ah, look! Is it--is it--a panther?"

"Good gracious, child, no!" Carelessly he made response, and with the
words disengaged himself from her hand and stood up. "It's more probably
some filthy old beggar who fondly thinks he is going to get _backsheesh_
for disturbing us. You stay here while I go and investigate!"

But some nervous impulse goaded Stella. She also started up, holding him
back. "Oh, don't go, Ralph! Don't go! Call one of the men! Call Peter!"

He laughed at her agitation. "My dear girl, don't be absurd! I don't
want Peter to help me kick a beastly native. In fact he probably
wouldn't lower himself to do such a thing."

But still she clung to him. "Ralph, don't go! Please don't go! I have a
feeling--I am afraid--I--" She broke off panting, her fingers tightly
clutching his sleeve. "Don't go!" she reiterated.

He put his arm round her. "My dear, what do you think a tatterdemalion
gipsy is going to do to me? He may be a snake-charmer, and if so the
sooner he is got rid of the better. There! What did I tell you? He is
coming out of his corner. Now, don't be frightened! It doesn't do to
show funk to these people."

He held her closely to him and waited. Beside the flowering azalea
something was undoubtedly moving, and as they stood and watched, a
strange figure slowly detached itself from the shadows and crept towards
them. It was clad in native garments and shuffled along in a bent
attitude as if deformed. Stella stiffened as she stood. There was
something unspeakably repellent to her in its toadlike advance.

"M