By that time Bimbu and Pinga and Umra were back again at the garden gate, sitting in the dust in ancient rags and whining, “Bhig mangi, saheebi!” “Alms! heavenborn, alms!”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“You are a fool,” said the crow.  “Am I?” the hen answered.  “Certainly you are a fool.  You sit in a dark corner hatching eggs, when there are live chickens for the asking over yonder.”  So the hen left her nest in search of ready-made chickens, and the crow, made a square meat. —­Eastern Proverb

A hundred guarded it.

It began to be rumored presently that Utirupa had declined to recognize Blaine’s contract with his predecessor.  Samson’s guarded hints, and the fact that the mouth of the mine remained blocked with concrete masonry were more or less corroborative.  But the Blaines did not go, although Dick put in no appearance at the club.

Then Patali, who was sedulously cultivating Yasmini’s patronage, with ulterior designs on Utirupa that were not misunderstood, told Norwood’s wife’s ayah’s sister’s husband that the American had secured another contract; and the news, of course, reached Samson’s ears at once.

So Samson called on Utirupa and requested explanations.  He was told that the mining contract had not received a moment’s consideration and, with equal truth, that the American, being an expert in such matters and on the spot, had been asked to undertake examination of the fort’s foundations.  The new maharanee, it seemed, had a fancy to build a palace where the fort stood, and the matter was receiving shrewd investigation and estimate in advance.

Samson could not object to that.  Those foundations had not been examined carefully for eight hundred years.  A perfectly good palace had been wrested away by diplomatic means, on Samson’s own initiative, and there was no logical reason why the maharajah should not build another one to replace it.  The fort had no modern military value.

“I hope you’re not going to try to pay for your new palace out of taxes?” Samson asked bluntly.

But Utirupa smiled.  He hoped nothing of that kind would be necessary.  Samson could not go and investigate what Blaine was doing, because he was given plainly to understand that the new palace was the maharanee’s business; and one does not intrude uninvited into the affairs of ladies in the East.  The efforts of quite a number of spies, too, were unavailing.  So Dick had his days pretty much to himself, except when Tess brought his lunch to him, or Yasmini herself in boots and turban rode up for a few minutes to look on.  The guards on the bastions, and in the great keep in the center, knew nothing whatever of what was happening, because all Dick’s activity was underground and Tom Tripe, with that ferocious dog of his, kept guard over the ancient door that led to the lower passages.  Dick used to return home every evening tired out, but Tom Tripe, keeping strictly sober, slept in the fort and said nothing of importance to any one.  He looked drawn and nervous, as if something had terrified him, but public opinion ascribed that to the “snakes” on the night of the coronation.