“Has he guards with him?”

“But ten, Maharajah-sahib.”

“Then remove these people to the place where they were, and afterward admit him—­without his guards!”

“I demand permission to speak with this Alwa-sahib!” said McClean.

“Remove them!”

Two spear-armed custodians of the door advanced.  Resistance was obviously futile.  Still holding his daughter’s hand, the missionary let himself be led to the outer hall and down a corridor, where, presently, a six-inch door shut prisoners and guards even from sound of what transpired beyond.

Alwa, swaggering until his long spurs jingled like a bunch of keys each time his boot-heels struck the marble floor, strode straight as a soldier up to the raised throne dais—­took no notice whatever of the sudden slamming of the door behind him—­looked knife-keenly into Howrah’s eyes—­and saluted with a flourish.

“I come from bursting open Jaimihr’s buzzard roost!” he intimated mildly.  “He held a man of mine.  I have the man.”

Merely to speak first was insolence; but that breach of etiquette was nothing to his manner and his voice.  It appeared that he was so utterly confident of his own prowess that he could afford to speak casually; he did not raise his voice or emphasize a word.  He was a man of his word, relating facts, and every line of his steel-thewed anatomy showed it.

“I sent a letter to you, by horseman, with a present,” said Howrah.  “I await the answer.”

Alwa’s eyes changed, and his attention stiffened.  Not having been at home, he knew nothing of the letter, but he did not choose to acknowledge the fact.  The principle that one only shares the truth with friends is good, when taken by surprise.

“I preferred to have confirmation of the matter from the Maharajah’s lips in person, so—­since I had this other matter to attend to—­I combined two visits in one trip.”

He lied, as he walked and fought, like a soldier, and the weary man who watched him from the throne detected no false ring.

“I informed you that I had extended my protection to the two missionaries, man and daughter.”

“You did.  Also, you did well.”  He tossed that piece of comfort to the despot as a man might throw table scraps to a starveling dog!  “I have come to take away the missionaries.”

“With a guard of ten!”

It was the first admission of astonishment that either man had made.

“Are you not aware that Jaimihr, too, has eyes on the woman?”

“I am aware of it.  I have shown Jaimihr how deep my fear of him lies!  I know, too, how deep the love lies between thee and thy brother, king of Howrah!  I am here to remind you that many more than ten men would race their horses to a stand-still to answer my summons—­brave men, Maharajah-sahib—­men whose blades are keen, and straightly held, and true.  They who would rally round me against Jaimihr would—­”