“No, he won’t.  He’ll want to know how much you know about his behavior at the gate.  Tell him you know everything, and that you’ve compelled the guard to keep silence.  That ought to reconcile the coward!  But if he threatens you, then threaten him!  Threaten to go to Samson sahib with the whole story. (But if you do dare really go to Samson sahib, never look me in the face again!) Then tell Gungadhura that you searched the cellar, and what you saw there under a stone, adding that Blaine sahib was suspicious, and watched you, and afterward sealed the cellar door.  Have you understood me?”

“I understand there’s precious little sleep for me tonight, and hell in the morning!”

“Pouf!  Are you a soldier?”

“I’m your ladyship’s most thorough-paced admirer and obedient slave!” Tom answered gallantly, his mutton-chop whiskers fairly bristling with a grin.

“Prove it, then, this night!”

“As if I hadn’t!  Well—­all’s well, Your Ladyship, I’m on the job!  Crib, crupper and breakfast-time, yours truly!”

“When you have finished interviewing Gungadhura, find for Blaine sahib a new cook and a new butler, who can be trusted not to poison him!”

“If I can!”

“Of course you can find them!  Tell Sita Ram, Samson sahib’s babu, what is wanted.  He will find men in one hour who have too much honor, and too little brains, and too great fear to poison any one!  Say that I require it of him.  Have your understood?  Then go!  Go swiftly to the guard and stop their tongues!”

Tom whistled his dog and rode off at a canter.  Dick gave the horse his head and drove home as fast as the steepness of the hill permitted, Yasmini talking to him nearly all the way.

“You must dismiss Chamu,” she insisted.  “He is Gungadhura’s man, and the cook is under the heel of Chamu.  Either man would poison his own mother for a day’s pay!  Send them both about their business the first thing in the morning if you value your life!  Before they go, let them see you put a great lock on the cellar door, and nail it as well, and put weights on it!  If men come at any time to pry about the house, ask Samson sahib for a special policeman to guard the place!”

“But what is all this leading to?” demanded Dick.  “What does it mean?”

“It means,” she said slowly, “that the toils are closing in on Gungadhura!”

“The way I figure it,” he answered, “some one else had a pretty narrow shave tonight!”

Yasmini knew better than to threaten Dick, or even to argue with him vehemently, much less give him orders.  But each man has a line of least resistance.

“Your wife has told you what Gungadhura attempted?” she asked him.

“Yes, while you were at the money-lender’s—­something of it.”

“If the guard should tell Gungadhura that your wife was in the palace with me and could give evidence against him, what do you suppose Gungadhura would do?”