“Now I can talk,” said the priest, sitting up and rubbing his ankles.  “Listen.  Take thou two horses and gallop off, so that the rest may think that the white woman has escaped.  Then return here secretly and name thy price—­and hold thy tongue!”

“And leave her in thy hands?” asked the Risaldar.

“In my keeping.”

“Bah!  Who would trust a Hindu priest!”

The Rajput was plainly wavering and the priest stood up, to argue with him the better.

“What need to trust me?  You, sahib, will know the secret, and none other but myself will know it.  Would I, think you, be fool enough to tell the rest, or, by withholding just payment from you, incite you to spread it broadcast?  You and I will know it and we alone.  To me the power that it will bring—­to you all the wealth you ever dreamed of, and more besides!”

“No other priest would know?”

“Not one!  They will think the woman escaped!”

“And she—­where would you keep her?”

“In a secret place I know of, below the temple.”

“Does any other know it?”

“No.  Not one!”

“Listen!” said the Risaldar, stroking at his beard.  “This woman never did me any wrong—­but she is a woman, not a man.  I owe her no fealty, and yet—­I would not like to see her injured.  Were I to agree to thy plan, there would needs be a third man in the secret.”

“Who?  Name him,” said the priest, grinning his satisfaction.

“My half-brother Suliman.”

“Agreed!”

“He must go with us to the hiding-place and stay there as her servant.”

“Is he a silent man?”

“Silent as the dead, unless I bid him speak!”

“Then, that is agreed; he and thou and I know of this secret, and none other is to know it!  Why wait?  Let us remove her to the hiding-place!”

“Wait yet for Suliman.  How long will I be gone, think you, on my pretended flight?”

“Nay, what think you, sahib?”

“I think many hours.  There may be those that watch, or some that ride after me.  I think I shall not return until long after daylight, and then there will be no suspicions.  Give me a token that will admit me safely back into Hanadra—­some sign that the priests will know, and a pass to show to any one that bids me halt.”

The priest held out his hand.  “Take off that ring of mine!” he answered.  “That is the sacred ring of Kharvani—­and all men know it.  None will touch thee or refuse thee anything, do they have but the merest sight of it!”

The Risaldar drew off a clumsy silver ring, set with three stones—­ a sapphire and a ruby and an emerald, each one of which was worth a fortune by itself.  He slipped it on his own finger and turned it round slowly, examining it.

“See how I trust thee,” said the priest.

“More than I do thee!” muttered the Risaldar.

“I hear my brother!” growled the Risaldar after another minute.  “Be ready to show the way!”