Yasmini was down at the door by that time, and it was she who answered.

“Nay, but men win lawsuits by gathering evidence!  Are title-deeds not legal in the dark?”

“Who are you?” he demanded, reaching backward for a little lamp that hung on the wall behind him and trying to see her face.

“I am the same who met you that morning on the hilltop and purchased silence from you at a price.”

He peered through the narrow opening, holding the lamp above his head.

“That was a man.  You are a woman.”

For answer to that she stood on tiptoe and blew the lamp out.  He would have slammed the door, but her foot was in the way.

“By dark or daylight, Mukhum Dass, your eyes read nothing but the names on hundis (notes)!  Now, what does the car say?  Does the voice tell nothing?”

“Aye, it is the same.”

“You shall have that title-deed tomorrow at dawn—­on certain terms.”

“How do I know?’

“Because I say it—­I, who said that Chamu would repay his son’s loan,—­ I, who knew from the first all about the title-deed,—­I, who know where it is this minute,—­I, who know the secrets of Jinendra’s priest,—­I, whose name stands written on the hundred-rupee note with which the butler paid his son’s debt!”

“The princess!  The Princess Yasmini!  It was her name on the note!”

“Her name is mine!”

The money-lender stood irresolutely, shifting his balance from foot to foot.  It was his experience that when people with high-born names came to him by night mysteriously there was always profit in it for himself.  And then, there was that title-deed.  He had bought the house cheap, but its present value was five times what he gave for it.  Its loss would mean more to him than the loss of a wife to some men—­as Yasmini knew, and counted on.

“Open the door and let me in, Mukhum Dass!  The terms are these—­”

“Nay, we can talk with the door between us.”

“Very well, then, lose thy title-deed!  Dhulap Singh, thine enemy, shall have it within the hour!”

She took her foot out from the door and turned away briskly.  Promptly he opened the door wide, and called after her.

“Nay, come, we will discuss it.”

“I discuss nothing!” she answered with a laugh.  “I dictate terms!”

“Name them, then.”

“I have here five women.  They must stay in safety in your house until an hour before dawn.”

“God forbid!”

“Until an hour before dawn, you hear me?  If any come to inquire for them or me, you must deny any knowledge.”

“That I would be sure enough to do!  Shall I have it said that Mukhum Dass keeps a dozen women in his dotage?”

“An hour before dawn I will come for them.”

“None too soon!”

“Then I will write a letter to a certain man, who, on presentation of the letter, will hand you the title-deed at once without payment.”