He had about made up his mind what line to take with his daughter, when she ceased her sobbing and looked up through swollen eyes to relieve him of the necessity for talking her over to his point view.  What she said amazed him, but not be cause it came to him as a new idea.  She said, in different words, exactly what was passing in his own mind, and it was as though her tears and his search of the Scriptures had brought them both to one clear-cut conclusion.

“Why are we here, father?” she asked him suddenly; and because she took him by surprise he did not answer her at once.  “We are here to do good aren’t we?” That was no question; it was beginning of a line of argument.  Her father held his tongue, and laid his Bible down, and listened on.  “How much good have we done yet?”

She paused, but the pause was rhetorical, and he knew it; he could see the light behind her eyes that was more than visionary; it was the light of practical Scots enthusiasm, unquenched and undiscouraged after a battle with fear itself.  She began to be beautiful again as the spirit of unconquerable courage won its way.

“Have we won one convert?  Is there one, of those you have taught who is with us still?”

The answer was self-evident.  There was none.  But there was no sting for him in what she asked.  Rather her words came as a relief, for he could feel the strength behind them.  He still said nothing.

“Have we stopped one single suttee?  Have we once, in any least degree, lessened the sufferings of one of those poor widows?”

“Not once,” he answered her, without a trace of shame.  He knew, and she knew, how hard the two of them had tried.  There was nothing to apologize for.

“Have we undermined the power of the Hindoo priests?  Have we removed one trace of superstition?”

“No,” he said quietly.

“Have we given up the fight?”

He looked hard at her.  Gray eyes under gray brows met gray eyes that shone from under dark, wet lashes, and deep spoke unto deep.  Scotsman recognized Scotswoman, and the bond between them tightened.

“It seems to me”—­there was a new thrill in her voice—­“that here is our opportunity!  Either Jaimihr wants to frighten us away or he is in earnest with his impudent attentions to me.  In either case let us make no attempt to go away.  Let us refuse to go away.  Let us stay here at all costs.  If he wishes us to go away, then he must have a reason and will show it, or else try to force us.  If he is really trying to make love to me, then let him try; if he has pluck enough, let him seize me.  In either case we shall force his hand.  I am willing to be the bait.  The moment that he harms either you or me, the government will have to interfere.  If he kills us so much the better, for that would mean swift vengeance and a British occupation.  That would stop suttee for all time, and we would have given our lives for something worth while.  As we are, we cannot communicate with our government, and Jaimihr thinks he has us in his grasp.  Let him think it!  Let him go ahead!  Sooner or later the government must find out that we are missing Then—!” Her eyes blazed at the thought of what would happen then.