“Then the house is not for me?”

“No!”

He wrote the letter, scratching it laboriously in a narrow Italian hand; then sealed and sent it by a messenger.  But Patali, sure in her own mind that her second thoughts had been best and determined to have the house for her own, went out to set spies to keep a very careful eye on Mukhum Dass and to report the money-lender’s movements to her hour by hour.

In less than an hour Dick Blaine arrived by dog-cart in answer to the note, and Patali did her best to listen through a keyhole to the interview.  But she was caught in the act by Gungadhura’s much neglected queen, and sent to another part of the palace with a string of unedifying titles ringing in her ears.

There was not a great deal to hear.  Dick Blaine was perfectly satisfied to let the maharajah search his cellar.  He was almost suspiciously complaisant, making no objection whatever to surrendering the key and explaining at considerable length just how it would be easiest to draw the nails.  He would be away from home all day, but Chamu the butler would undoubtedly admit the maharajah and his men.  For the rest, he hoped they would find what they were looking for, whatever that might be; and he sincerely hoped that the maharajah had not hurt his head seriously.

Asked why he had nailed the cellar door down, he replied that he objected to unauthorized people nosing about in there.

“Who has been in the cellar?” asked Gungadhura.

“Only Tom Tripe.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.  Until that very evening I always kept the cellar padlocked.  It’s a Yale lock.  There’s nobody in this man’s town could pick it.”

“Well—­thank you for the permission.”

“Don’t mention it.  I hope your head don’t hurt you much.  Good morning.”

Dick little suspected, as he drove the dog-cart across the bridge toward the club, chuckling over the quick success of Yasmini’s ruse, that he himself had set the stage for tragedy.

Chapter Fifteen

He who sets a tiger-trap
(Hush! and watch! and wait!)
Can’t afford a little nap
Hidden where the twigs enwrap
Lest—­it has occurred—­mayhap
A jackal take the bait. 
So stay awake, my sportsman bold,
And peel your anxious eye,
There’s more than tigers, so I’m told,
To test your cunning by!

“Me for the princess!”

It is not always an entirely simple matter in India to dismiss domestic servants.  To begin with it was Sunday; the ordinary means of cashing checks were therefore unavailable, and Dick Blaine had overlooked the fact that he had no money of small denominations in the house.  It was hardly reasonable to expect Chamu and the cook to leave without their wages.