"'I kept my secret—the terrible knowledge that a woman had died at our hands. By the morning dawn the spoil had been divided, and our cavalcade, smaller now by nearly one-third, moved on. At the first cross-roads we split up into several groups, and later on into smaller parties still, so as to divert attention from us. And thus have I come on to Delhi, only I and one other member of that body of thugs, dispersed to assemble again as the omens of the goddess should direct. At Delhi we two await another gathering of thugs. But meanwhile my heavy secret has weighed upon my soul. I have heard incessantly, these last few days and nights, Bowani denouncing me as false to her because I have taken the life of a woman in her name, and bidding me hand over all the thugs to the justice of Akbar. Therefore have I come first to you, O kadi, one of the judges of Akbar.'
"I looked steadily at the man. Methought I saw once more the furtive, shifty eyes of the maniac.
"'What proof have you of this story?' I asked.
"'Take some sowars, and ride back with me three days' journey. There will I show you the graves of these last victims, and of some hundreds of others buried on previous occasions in the same gorge.'
"'Where is your companion—your brother thug?'
"'He has a shop at the corner of the Chota Bazaar and Dhurmtola. There he is now selling his merchandise.'
"'But that is the shop of Kubar Bux. He dwells here in Delhi.'
"'Kubar Bux is his name.'
"'He is a well-known and respected merchant.'
"'None the less is he a thug,' answered the informer, with what I took to be a vindictive little smile.