"She is dead, and to-morrow your father dies."
The disheveled appearance of the man did not in her eyes confirm this. Indeed, the longer she gazed at him the more strongly convinced she became that he was lying. But wisely she maintained her silence.
"Dead," he repeated. "Within a week you shall be my wife. You know. They have told you. I want money, and by all the gods of Hind, yours shall be the hand to give it to me. Marry me, and one week after I will give you means of leaving Allaha. Will you marry me?"
"Yes." The word slipped over Winnie's lips faintly. She recalled Ahmed's advice: to humor the man, to play for time; but she knew that if he touched her she must scream.
"Keep that word. Your father and sister are fools."
Winnie trembled. They were alive. Kit and her father; this man had lied. Alive! Oh, she would not be afraid of any ordeal now. They were alive, and more than that they were free.
"I will keep my word when the time comes," she replied clearly.
"They are calling me Durga Ram the Mad. Beware, then, for madmen do mad things."
The door opened and shut behind him, and she heard the key turn and the outside bolt click into its socket.
They were alive and free, her loved ones! She knelt upon the cushions, her eyes uplifted.