One thing assured her:  the hands of the zenana’s real physician were broad and muscular, while the hands she saw were slender and beautiful, brown though they were.  She had seen those hands before, during the episode of the leopards of the treasury.

It was very hard for Kathlyn to curb the wild desire to crush Winnie in her arms, arms that truly ached for the feel of her.  Even as she fought this desire she could not but admire Winnie’s superb acting.  She and her father had misjudged this butterfly.  To have come all this way alone in search of them, unfamiliar with the customs and the language of the people!  How she had succeeded in getting here without mishap was in itself remarkable.

She took Winnie’s wrist in her hand and pressed it reassuringly, then puttered about in her medical bag.  Very softly she whispered: 

“I shall remain with you till dusk.  Give no sign whatever that you know me, for you will be watched.  To-night I will smuggle you out of the palace.  Take these, and soon pretend to be quieted.”

Winnie swallowed the bits of sugar and lay back.  Kathlyn signified that she wished to be alone with her patient.  Once alone with Winnie, she cast aside her veil.

“Oh, Kit!”

“Hush, baby!  We are going to get you safely away.”

“I am afraid.”

“So are we all; but we must not let any one see that we are.  Father and Ahmed are near by.  But oh, why did you attempt to find us?”

“But you cabled me to come, weeks ago!”

“I?  Never!” And the mystery was no longer a mystery to Kathlyn.  The hand of Umballa lay bare.  Could they eventually win out against a man who seemed to miss no point in the game?  “You were deceived, Winnie.  To think of it!  We had escaped, were ready to sail for home, when we learned that you had left for India.  It nearly broke our hearts.”

“What ever shall we do, Kit?” Winnie flung her arms round her sister and drew her down.  “My Kit!”

“We must be brave whatever happens.”

“And am I not your sister?” quietly.  “Do you believe in me so little?  Why shouldn’t I be brave?  But you’ve always treated me like a baby; you never tried to prove me.”

Kathlyn’s arms wound themselves tightly about the slender form. . . .  And thus Umballa found them.

[Illustration:  And thus Umballa found them.]

“Very touching!” he said, standing with his back to the door.  “But nicely trapped!” He laughed as Kathlyn sprang to her feet, as her hand sought the dagger at her side.  “Don’t draw it,” he said.  “I might hurt your arm in wrenching it away from you.  Poor little fool!  Back into the cage, like a homing pigeon!  Had I not known you all would return, think you I would have given up the chase so easily?  You would not bend, so then you must break.  The god Juggernaut yearns for a sacrifice to prove that we still love and worship him.  You spurned my love; now you shall know my hate.  You shall die, unpleasantly.”