The Bronze Bell

  CHAPTER XIX

  RUTTON'S DAUGHTER

  In darkness the blacker for the sudden disappearance of the light,somebody stumbled over Amber--stumbled and swore in good English. TheVirginian sat up, crying out as weakly as a child: "Labertouche!" Avoice said: "Thank God!" He felt strong hands lift him to his feet. Heclung to him who had helped him, swaying like a drunkard, wits a-swirlin the brain thus roughly awakened from semi-hypnosis.

  "Here," said Labertouche's voice, "take my hand and follow. We're infor it now!"

  He caught Amber's hand and dragged him, yielding and unquestioning,rapidly through a chaotic rush of unseen bodies.

  The firing had electrified the tense-strung audience. With apandemonium of shrieks, oaths, shouts, orders unheard and commandsunheeded, a concerted rush was made from every quarter to the spotwhere the doomed man had been kneeling. Men running blundered intorunning men and cannoned off at direct angles to their originalcourses, without realising it. Disorder reigned rampant, and the cavernrang with a thousand echoes, while the Bell awoke and roared a ragingtocsin, redoubling the din. No man could have said where he stood orwhither he ran--save one, perhaps. That one was at Amber's side and hadlaid his course beforehand and knew that both their lives depended uponhis sticking to it without deviation. To him a rush of a hundred feetin a direct line meant salvation, the least deviation from it, death.He plunged through the scurrying masses without regard for any hurtthat might come either to him or to his charge.

  A red glare of torches was breaking out over the heads of the mobbefore they gained their destination. Amber saw that they were makingfor a corner formed by the junction of one of the pedestals with arocky wall. He was now recovering rapidly and able to appreciate thatthey stood a good chance of winning away; for the natives were allconverging toward the centre of the cavern, and apparently none heededthem. Nevertheless Labertouche, releasing him, put a revolver in hishand.

  "Don't hesitate to shoot if any one comes this way!" he said. "I've gotto get this door open and..."

  He broke off with an ejaculation of gratitude; for while he had beenspeaking, his fingers busily groping in the convolutions of thesculptured pedestal had encountered what he sought, and now he pulledout an iron bar two feet or so in length and as thick as a woman'swrist. Inserting this in a socket, as one familiar with the trick, heput his weight upon it; a carved sandstone slab slid back silently,disclosing a black cavernous opening.

  "In with you," panted Labertouche, removing the lever. "Don'tdelay...."

  Amber did not. He took with him a hazy impression of a vast, vaultedhall filled with a ruddy glare of torchlight, a raving rabble ofgorgeously attired natives in its centre. Then the opening received himand he found himself in a black hole of an underground gallery--a placethat reeked with the dank odours of the tomb.

  Labertouche followed and with the aid of a small electric pocket-lampdiscovered another socket for the lever. A moment later the slab movedback into place, and the Englishman dropped the metal bar. "If therewere only some way of locking that opening," he gasped, "we'd be fairlysafe. As it is, we'll have to look nippy. That was a near call--as neara one as ever you'll know, my boy; and we're not out yet. What are youdoing?" he added, as Amber stopped to pick up the lever.

  "It isn't a bad weapon," said the Virginian, "at a pinch. You'll wantyour gun, and that she-devil, Naraini, got mine."

  "Keep the one I gave you and don't be afraid to use it. I've anotherand a couple of knives for good measure. That Mohammedan prince whom Ipersuaded to change places with me was a walking arsenal." Labertouchechuckled. "Come along," he said, and drew ahead at a dog-trot.

  They sped down a passage which delved at a sharp grade through solidrock. Now and again it turned and struck away in another direction.Once they descended--or rather fell down--a short, steep flight ofsteps. At the bottom Amber stopped.

  "Hold on!" he cried.

  Labertouche pulled up impatiently. "What's the matter?"

  "Sophia--!"

  "Trust me, dear boy, and come along."

  Persuaded, Amber gave in, blundering on after Labertouche, who lopedalong easily, with the confidence of one who threads known ways, thespot-light from his lamp dancing along the floor several feet beforehim. Otherwise they moved between walls of Stygian darkness.

  It was some time later that Labertouche extinguished his lamp and threwa low word of warning over his shoulder. Synchronously Amber discerned,far ahead, a faint glow of yellow light. As they bore down upon it withunmoderated speed, he could see that it emanated from a rough-hewndoorway, opening off the passage. Before it a man stood guard with anaked sword.

  "_Johar!_" he greeted them in the Mahar form: "O, warrior!"

  "_Johar!_" returned Labertouche, panting heavily. He closed upon thenative confidently, but was brought up short by a peremptory sweep ofthe sword, coupled with an equally imperative demand for an explanationof their haste. The Englishman replied with apparent difficulty, as ifhalf-winded. "It is an order, _Johar_. The woman is to be brought tothe Hall of the Bell."

  "You have the word?" The Mahar lowered his sword. "It hath been said tome that--"

  Labertouche stumbled over his feet, and caught the speaker for support.The native gurgled in a sodden fashion, dropped his sword, staredstupidly at Labertouche, and put an uncertain hand to his throat. Thenhe lurched heavily and collapsed upon himself.

  The secret-agent stepped back, dropping the knife he had used. "Poordevil!" he said in a compassionate undertone. "That was cold-bloodedmurder, Mr. Amber."

  "Necessary?" gasped Amber, regarding with horror the bloodstained heapof rags and flesh at his feet.

  "Judge for yourself," said Labertouche coolly, stepping over the body."Here," he added, pausing by the doorway, "you go first; she knowsyou."

  He pushed Amber on ahead. Stooping, the Virginian entered a small, rudechamber hollowed out of the rock of Kathiapur. A crude lamp in abracket furnished all its illumination, filling it with a reek of hotoil. Amber was vaguely aware of the figures of two women--one standingin a corner, the other seated dejectedly upon a charpoy, her headagainst the wall. As he lifted his head after passing under the lowlintel, the woman in the corner fired at him point-blank.

  The Virginian saw the jet of flame spurt from her hand and felt thebullet's impact upon the wall behind his head. He flung himself uponher instantly. There was a moment of furious struggle, while the cellechoed with the reverberations of the shot and the screaming of thewoman on the charpoy. The pistol exploded again as he grappled with thewould-be murderess; the bullet, passing up his sleeve, creased his leftarm as with a white-hot iron, and tore out through the cloth on hisshoulder. He twisted brutally the wrist that held the weapon, and thewoman dropped it with a cry of pain.

  "You would!" he cried, and threw her from him, putting a foot upon thepistol.

  She reeled back against the wall and crouched there, trembling, hercheeks on fire, her eyes aflame with rage. "You dog!" she shrilled inHindi--and spat at him like a maddened cat. Then he recognised her.

  "Naraini!" He stepped back in his surprise, his right hand seekinginstinctively the wrist of his left, which was numb with pain.

  His change of position left the pistol unguarded, and the woman swoopeddown upon it like a bird of prey; but before she could get her fingerson its grip, Labertouche stepped between them, fended her off, andquietly possessed himself of the weapon.

  "Your pardon, madam," he said gravely.

  Naraini retreated, shaking with fury, and Amber employed the respite torecognise Sophia Farrell in the woman on the charpoy. She was stillseated, prevented from rising by bonds about her wrists and ankles, andthough unnaturally pale, her anguish of fear and despair had set itsmarks upon her face without one whit detracting from the appeal of herbeauty. He went to her immediately, and as their eyes met, hers flamedwith joy, relief and--he dared believe--a stronger emotion.

  "You--you're not hurt, Mr. Amber?"

  "Not at all. The bullet went out throug
h my sleeve. And you?" Hedropped on his knees, with his pocket-knife severing the ends of ropethat bound her.

  "I'm all right." She took his hands, helping herself to rise. "Thankyou," she said, her eyes shining, a flush of colour suffusing her facewith glory.

  "Did you cut those ropes, Amber?" Labertouche interposed curtly.

  "Yes. Why?"

  The Englishman explained without turning from his sombre and moroseregard of Naraini. "Too bad--we'll have to tie this woman up, somehow.She's a complication I hadn't foreseen.... Here; you'd better leave meto attend to her--you and Miss Farrell. Go on down the gallery--to theleft, I'll catch up with you."

  The pistol which he still held lent to his demand a sinistersignificance of which he was, perhaps, thoughtless. But Sophia Farrellheard, saw, and surmised.

  "No!" she cried, going swiftly to the secret-agent. "No!" She put ahand upon his arm, but he shook it off.

  "Did you hear me, Amber?" said Labertouche, still watching the queen.

  "What do you mean to do?" insisted Sophia. "You can't--you mustn't--"

  "This is no time for half-measures, Miss Farrell," Labertouche told herbrusquely. "Our lives hang in the balance--Mr. Amber's, yours, mine.Please go."

  "You promise not to harm her?"

  "Amber!" cried the Englishman impatiently. "Will you--"

  "Please, Miss Farrell!" begged Amber, trying to take the girl's handand draw her away.

  "I won't!" she declared. "I'll not move a step until he promises. Youdon't understand. No matter what the danger she's--"

  "She's a fiend incarnate," Labertouche broke in. "Amber, get thatgirl--"

  "She's my sister!" cried Sophia. "_Now_ will you understand?"

  "What!" The two men exclaimed as one.

  "She's my sister," the girl repeated, holding up her head defiantly,her cheeks burning--"my sister by adoption. We were brought uptogether. She was the daughter of an old friend of my father's--anIndian prince. A few years ago she ran away--"

  "Thank God!" said Amber from the bottom of his soul; and, "Ah, youwould!" cried Labertouche tensely, as Naraini seized the opportunity,when his attention was momentarily diverted, to break for freedom.

  Amber saw the flash of a steel blade in the woman's hand as she struckat the secret-agent, and the latter, stepping back, deflected the blowwith a guarding forearm. Then, with the quickness of a snake, Narainistooped, glided beneath his arms, and slipped from the cell.

  With a smothered oath Labertouche leaped to the doorway, lifting hispistol; but he was no quicker than Sophia, who caught his arm and heldhim back. "No," she panted; "not even for our lives--not at thatprice!"

  He yielded unexpectedly. "Of course you are perfectly right, MissFarrell," said he, with a little bow. "I'm sorry that circumstances ...But come! She'll have this hornet's nest about our ears in a brace ofseconds. Hark to that!"

  A long, shrill shriek echoed down the gallery. Labertouche shrugged andturned to the left. "Come along," he said. "Amber, take Miss Farrel'shand and keep close to me." He led the way from the cell at a briskpace--one, indeed, that taxed Sophia's powers of endurance to maintain.Amber aided her as much as he might, but that was little; the walls ofthe passageway were too close together to permit him to be by her sidemuch of the time. For the most part he had to lead the way, himselfguided by the swiftly moving patch of light cast by Labertouche'sbull's-eye. But through it all he was buoyed up and exhilarated out ofall reason by the consciousness of the hand that lay trustfully in hisown; a hand soft and small and warm and (though he could not see it)white, all white! More, it was the hand of his wife to be; he felt thisnow with an unquestioning assurance. He wondered if she shared thesubject of his thoughts ...

  The gallery sloped at varying grades, more or less steep--mostlymore--and minute by minute the air became more dank and cold. At anunseen turning, where another passage branched away, a biting windswept out of the black nowhere, chilling them to the marrow. Deeper andstill deeper, into the very bowels of the earth, it seemed, thesecret-agent led them, finding his way with an unfaltering confidencethat exalted Amber's admiration of him to the pitch of hero-worship.

  At length the gallery dipped and ran level, and now, while still cold,the wind that blew in their faces was cleaner, burdened with less ofthe clammy effluvium of death and decay; and then, abruptly, the wallsnarrowed suddenly, so that Amber was forced to surrender possession ofthe girl's hand and to fall behind her. She went forward withoutquestion, following the dancing spotlight.

  Amber paused to listen for sounds of pursuit, but hearing nothing savethe subdued sigh of the draught between the straitened walls of rock,followed until the walls fell away and his hands, outstretched, failedto touch them, and he was aware that the stone beneath his feet hadgiven way to gravel. He halted, calling guardedly to Labertouche.

  The secret-agent's voice came from some distance. "It's all right, myboy. Miss Farrell is with me. Come along."

  There was an _elan_ in his tone that bespoke a spirit of gratulationand relief and led Amber to suspect that they were very close upon theend of their flight, near to escape from the subterranean ways ofKathiapur the dead. He proceeded at discretion in the direction ofLabertouche's voice--the light being invisible--and brought up flatagainst a dead wall. Coincidently he heard Sophia exclaim with surpriseand delight, somewhere off on his left, and, turning, he saw her headand shoulders move across a patch of starlit sky. In half a dozenstrides he overtook her.

  They stood on a low, pebbly ledge, just outside the black maw of thepassage--an entrance hidden in a curtain-like fold in the face of thecliff that towered above them, casting an ink-black shadow. But beyondit the emblazoned firmament glowed irradiant, and at their feet theencircling waters ran, a broad ribbon of black silk purling between thecliff and the opposing shores, where a thicket of tamarisks rose, ablack and ragged wall.

  Labertouche strode off into the water. "Straight ahead," he announced;"don't worry--'tisn't more than knee-deep at the worst. I've horseswaiting on the other side--"

  "Horses!" Amber interrupted. "Great heavens, man, you're--you'reomniscient!"

  "No--lucky," Labertouche retorted briskly. "Where'd I've been withoutRam Nath? He's taking care of the animals.... Come along. What're youwaiting for? Don't you know--" He turned to see the girl hesitant,though with lifted skirts. "Oh," he said in an accent of understanding,and came back. "If you'll help me, Amber, I daresay we can get MissFarrell across without a wetting."

  He offered to clasp hands with the Virginian and so make a seat; butAmber had a happier thought.

  "I think I can manage by myself, thank you--if Miss Farrell will trustme."

  His eyes met the girl's, and in hers he read trust and faith unending:he was conscious of a curious fluttering in his bosom.

  "Trust _you!_" she said, with a little, broken laugh, and gave herselffreely to his arms.

  Labertouche grunted and turned his back, wading out into the streamwith a great splashing.

  Amber straightened up, holding her very close to him, and that withease. Had she been thrice as heavy he could have borne her with aslittle care as he did his own immeasurably lightened heart in that hourof fulfilment. And she lay snug and confident, her arms round his neck,the shadowed loveliness of her face very near to him. The faint andelusive fragrance of her hair was sweet and heady in the air hebreathed; he could read her eyes, and their allure and surrender waslike a draught of wine to him. He felt the strength of ten meninvigorate him, and his soul was sober with a great happiness. But alittle while and she would be in safety; already her salvation seemedassured.... The further bank neared all too quickly. He would willinglyhave lingered to prolong the stolen sweetness of that moment, forgetfulaltogether of the danger that lay behind them.

  Ahead, he saw Labertouche step out upon a shelving shore and, shakinghis legs with an effect irresistibly suggestive of a dog leaving thewater, peer inland through the tamarisks. His low, whistled signalsounded as Amber joined him and put down the girl--reluctantly
. Herwhispered thanks were interrupted by an exclamation from Labertouche.

  "Hang it all! he can't've mistaken the spot. I told him to wait righthere, and now ... We daren't delay." He cast an apprehensive glanceacross the stream. "Look lively, please."

  He shouldered away through the thicket, and for several moments theystruggled on through the hindering undergrowth, their passage betrayedby much noisy rustling. Then, as they won through to open ground,Labertouche paused and whistled a second time, staring eagerly fromright to left.

  "I'm blessed!" he declared, with a vehemence that argued his desire forstronger language. "This is bad--bad--bad! He never failed me before!I--"

  A mocking chuckle seemed to break from the ground at their feet, and inthe flicker of an eyelash a shadow lifted up out of thescrub-encumbered level. Sophia cried aloud with alarm; Labertoucheswore outright, heedless; and Amber put himself before her, drawing hisrevolver, heartsick with the conviction that they were trapped, thattheir labour had gone all for naught, that all futilely had theyschemed and dared....

  But while his finger was yet seeking the trigger the first shadow wasjoined by a score of fellows--shades that materialised with likeswiftness and silence from the surface of the earth--and before hecould level the weapon Labertouche seized his wrist. For an instant heresisted, raging with disappointment; but the Englishman was cool,strong, determined; inevitably in the outcome the weapon was pointed tothe sky.

  "Steady, you ass!" breathed the secret-agent in his ear. "Can't yousee--"

  And Amber gave over, in amazement unbounded, seeing the starlightglinting down a dozen levelled rifle-barrels, glowing pale on thespiked, rounded crowns of pith helmets, and striking soft fire fromburnished accoutrements; while a voice, thick with a brogue that wasnever bred out of hearing of Bow Bells, was hectoring them tosurrender.

  "'Ands up, ye bloomin' black beggars! 'Ands up, I s'y!"

  "Tommies!" cried Amber; and incontinently he dropped the revolver asthough it had turned hot in his hand.

  "Steady, my man!" Labertouche interrupted what threatened to developinto a string of intolerable abuse. "Hold your tongue! Can't you seewe've a lady with us?"

  "Ul-_lo!_" The soldier lowered his rifle and stepped closer, his voicevibrating with astonishment. "Blimme, 'ere's a go!... beggar of anigger givin' me wot-for 's if 'e was a gent! 'Oo in 'ell d'ye thinky'are, yer 'ighness?'

  "That'll do. Put down those guns, and call your commanding officer.I'll explain to him. Where is he? What troops are you? When did youarrive?"

  Such queries and commands discharged quickly in crisp English from themouth of one who wore the color and costume of a Mohammedan of highdegree, temporarily dazed his captors. In a body they pressed round thethree, peering curiously into their faces--the two white and the onedark; and their murmurings rose and swelled discordant. "Blimme if 'e_ain't_ a gent!" "T'other un is!" "An this un a leddy!"...But to hisinterrogations Labertouche got no direct reply. While as for Amber, hecould have laughed aloud from a heart that brimmed with thanksgivingfor the honest sound of their rich rough voices; besides which, Sophiastood very close to him, and her fingers were tight about his....

  "What's this?" A sharp voice cut the comments of the Tommies, and theywere smitten silent by it. An officer, with jingling spurs and sword inhand, elbowed through the heart of the press. "Stop that row instantly.What's this? Who are you, sir?"

  "I sent the message from Kathiapur, and I'm uncommonly happy to meetyou, whoever you may be, sir. Tell your men to fall back, please, andI'll introduce myself properly."

  Two words secured the secret-agent the privacy he desired; the officeroffered him an ungloved hand as the troopers withdrew out of hearing.

  "Happy, indeed!" he said cheerfully. "I'm Rowan, Captain, FourteenthPioneers."

  "I'm Labertouche, I.S.S. This is Miss Farrell, daughter of ColonelFarrell, and this Mr. Amber, of New York. We're just escaped from thatrock over there and--if you'll pardon--I'd suggest you set a strongguard over the ford behind those tamarisks."

  "One moment, please." The officer strode off to issue instructions inaccordance with Labertouche's advice. "We got here only a quarter of anhour ago," he apologised, swinging back as the men deployed into thethicket, "and haven't had time to nose out the lay of the landthoroughly."

  "I infer you got my man with the horses--native calling himself RamNath?"

  "He's with the Colonel-commanding now, Mr. Labertouche. As I wassaying, we've hardly had time to do more than throw a line of picketsround the rock. It's been quick work for us--marching orders atmidnight yesterday, down by train to Sar, and forced march across thedesert ever since daybreak."

  "I'd hardly hoped the thing could be done so quickly. If I had beenable to get the information an instant earlier, my mind would've beeneasier, captain, but--Hello!"

  From the ford an abrupt clamour of voices interrupted. The officerhooked up his scabbard. "Sounds as if my men had gathered in somebodyelse," he said hastily. "If you'll excuse me, I'll have a look." Hetrotted off into the shade of the tamarisks.

  As he disappeared the disturbance abated somewhat. "False alarm," Amberguessed.

  "I fancy not," said Labertouche. "If I'm not mistaken our friendNaraini left for the special purpose of raising the hue and cry. Thisshould be the vanguard of the pursuit."

  Amber looked upward. Overhead the soulless city slumbered in astillness apparently unbroken, yet he who saw its profile ruggedagainst the stars, could fancy what consternation was then, orpresently would be, running riot through its haunted ways.

  "How many of 'em are there, do you reckon?" he asked.

  "Three or four hundred," replied the secret-agent absently; "the pickand flower of Indian unrest. My word, but this will kick up a row!Think of it, man! three hundred and fifty-odd lords and princes baggedall at once in the act of plotting the Second Mutiny! What a change itwill work on the political face of the land! ... And the best of it is,they simply can't get away."

  "Is this the only exit, then--the way we escaped?"

  "Not by three--all on the other side of the rocky where they rode upand left their horses. And that's where the most of 'em will come out,by twos and threes, like the animals out of the Ark, you know. What acatch!"

  "And we've you to thank!"

  "I? Oh, dear boy, thank the Tommies!"

  "But what would we have done, or the Tommies either, without you?"

  "What indeed!" Sophia echoed warmly. "I've had no chance, as yet--"

  "Not another word, my dear Miss Farrell!" Labertouche protested,acutely uncomfortable. "To've been able to help you out of the scrapeis enough."

  "But I must--" she began, and stopped with a little cry as a shot rangout from the heart of the thicket, to be followed by another and thenby a shriek of agony and a great confusion of sounds--shouts and oathsand noisy crashings in the tamarisks as of many men blundering hitherand yon.

  Silenced, with a slight shudder of apprehension, the girl drew toAmber's side, as if instinctively. He took her hand and drew it throughhis arm.

  "Run to earth at last!" cried Labertouche. "I wonder--"

  "If my hope's good for anything," Amber laughed, less because he feltlike laughing than for the purpose of reassuring Sophia, "this will bethe gentleman who trained the Hooded Death to dance, or else he who--"

  He was thinking with vindictive relish of what fate he would mete outto the manipulator of the Bell, were it left to him to pass sentence.But he broke off as a body of soldiery burst from the tamarisks, and,headed by young Rowan, hurried toward the three, bringing with them asilent and unresisting prisoner.

  "I say," the officer called excitedly in advance, "here's somethinguncommon' rum. It's a woman, you know."

  "Aha!" said Labertouche, and "Ah!" said Amber, "with a click of histeeth, while the woman on his arm clung to him the closer.

  "I thought we'd better bring her to you, for she said ..." Rowanpaused, embarrassed, and took a fresh start. "My men got to the fordjust as she was coming as
hore with three other men, and the whole packtook to cover on this side. Two of the men are still missing, but werouted out the other just now with this--ah--lady. He showed fight andgot bayonetted. But the woman--excuse me, Mr. Amber--she protests--byGeorge, it's too ridiculous!--"

  "I have claimed naught that is not true!" an unforgettably sweet voiceinterrupted from the centre of the group. It opened out, disclosingNaraini between two guards, in that moment of passion and fear perhapsmore incomparably beautiful than any woman they had ever looked upon,save her who held to Amber's arm, a-quiver with womanly sympathy andcompassion.

  During her flight and her resistance Naraini's veil had been rent away;in the clear starlight her countenance, framed in hair of lustrous jetand working with uncontrollable rage and despair, shone like that ofsome strange tempestuous Aphrodite fashioned of palest gold. Beneathits folds of tightly drawn, bespangled gauze her bosom swelled and fellconvulsively, and on her perfect arms, more softly beautiful than anyPhidias ever dreamed to chisel, the golden bracelets and banglesclashed and tinkled as she writhed and fought to free herself of thedefiling hands. Half-mad with disappointment, she raged amid thescattered shreds of her dream of power like a woman hopelesslyderanged.

  "Aye, I have claimed!" she stormed. "I have claimed justice and therights of wifehood, the protection of him whose wife I am; or, if hedeny me, I claim that he must suffer with me--he who hath played thetraitor's part to-night, betraying his Cause and his wife alike totheir downfall!... I claim," she insisted, lifting, in spite of thesoldiers' restraining hands, one small quivering arm to single Amberout and point him to scorn, "that this is the man who, wedded to me bysolemn right and the custom of the land, hath deserted and abandonedme, hath denied me even as he denies his birthright, when it dothplease him, and forswears the faith of his fathers! I claim to beNaraini, Queen, wife to Har Dyal Rutton, rightful ruler ofKhandawar--coward, traitor, renegade--who stands there!"

  "For the love of Heaven, Rowan, shut her up!" cried Labertouche. "It'sall a pack of lies; the woman's raving. Rutton's dead, in the firstplace; in the second, he's her father. She can't be his wife very well,whether he's alive or dead. It's simply a dodge of hers to gain time.Shut her up and take her away--she's as dangerous as a wildcat!"

  "Nay, I will not be gagged nor taken hence till I have said my say!"With a sudden furious wrench Naraini wrested her arms from the grasp ofthe guards and sprang away, eluding with lithe and snake-like movementstheir attempts to recapture her. "Not," she cried, "until I havewrought my will upon the two of them. Thou hast stood in my light toolong, O my sister!"

  A hand blazing with jewels tore at the covering of her bosom andsuddenly came away clutching a dagger, thin, long, and keen; andsnarling she sprang toward the girl, to whose influence, howeverunwitting, she rightly ascribed the downfall of her scheme of empire.Rowan and Labertouche leaped forward and fell short, so lightning swiftshe moved; only Amber stood between her and her vengeance. Choking withhorror, he put the girl behind him with a resistless hand, and tookNaraini to his arms.

  "Ah, hast thou changed thy mind, Beloved?" The woman caught himfiercely to her with an arm about his waist, and her voice rose shrillwith mocking triumph, "Are my lips become so sweet to thee again? Thensee how I kiss, thou fool!"

  She thrust with wicked cunning, twice and again, before the men toreher away and disarmed her. For an instant wrestling like a demon withthem, still animated by her murderous frenzy, still wishful to fill hercup of vengeance to the brim with the blood of the girl, she of asudden ceased to resist and fell passive in their hands, a dyingflicker of satisfaction in the eyes that watched the culmination of hercrime....

  To Amber it was as if his body had been penetrated thrice by a needleof fire. The anguish of it was exquisite, stupefying. He was aware of adarkening, reeling world, wherein men's faces swam like moons, pallid,staring, and of a mighty and invincible lethargy that pounced upon him,body, brain and soul, like a black panther springing from the ambush ofthe night. Yet there were still words that must be spoken, lest theylive in his subconsciousness to torment him through all the long, blacknight that was to receive him. He tried to steady himself, and liftedan arm that vibrated like the sprung limb of a sapling, signing to thesecret-agent.

  "_Labertouche_," he said thickly ... "_Sophia ... out of India ... atonce ... life_ ..."

  The girl's arms received him as he fell.