t to repose
such confidence in you as hardly one man of your race has known since
the world began. You will come with me into the zenana, that the
mother of Kharrak Singh may know whom she is to trust. This I do now,
that when I am dead, you may demand admittance as by right--the right I
confer upon you--and talk with her through the curtain, thus avoiding
the danger and delay of go-betweens."

Gerrard had felt a lurking fear more than once that this crowning proof
of confidence was to be conferred upon him, but had silenced his
uneasiness by reminding himself that such a thing was almost unheard
of. One or two of those orientalised Europeans to whom the Rajah had
referred earlier in the evening had enjoyed the honour, as had one or
two British officials held in almost divine veneration, but otherwise
it had been the supreme mark of favour reserved by a ruler for his most
tried, trusted, and faithful servants. It was a sensible thing to do
in the circumstances, as Partab Singh had manoeuvred them, he owned,
but the idea shocked him almost as much as it would have done a native.
It was so incongruous.

"If Bob gets wind of this, I shall be chaffed to death!" he said to
himself, and then realised that the Rajah was waiting for a reply from
him. "I appreciate deeply this proof of your Highness's confidence,
and trust I may show myself worthy of it," he said formally, and Partab
Singh linked his arm in his and drew him along.

They went through the tower, across the courtyard, and up the steps
into the hall of audience, passing thence through rooms and corridors
till they reached a barred gate, guarded by soldiers, whose weapons
clashed angrily as they perceived Gerrard. The Rajah made a sign,
never loosing his hold on the young man's arm for a moment, and the
gates were opened from within by zenana attendants, the guards standing
rigidly with their backs to them. Inside, Gerrard knew enough of the
etiquette of the occasion to walk with his eyes cast down, and obey
every motion of the Rajah's arm, but he was aware that the darkness
seemed to be full of eyes, and the silence of whispers. They came to a
standstill at last before a pillared colonnade, with a crimson curtain
hanging behind the pillars. No light came from behind the curtain, and
Gerrard realised suddenly that he distinguished its colour by means of
a light behind him. At a word from the Rajah, two old women came
forward with flaring lamps, and stati