"One of my men failed to put in his appearance last night. I naturally surmised"—this rather drily—"that you detained him to find out what he knew."
He was watching her closely, and again that quizzical expression clouded her eyes. After a moment she smiled queerly.
"You accuse me of crude tactics," she said; then switched off with: "But tell me, what have you learned since your arrival?"
He answered discreetly. "I attended the festival to-day."
She nodded. "I saw you. I was in the Governor's stall. Because of his vigilance I dared not communicate with you before this. He watches me as a hawk watches its prey." (Trent wondered if the word "hawk" had any significance.) "But while the bird sleeps, the cobra goes about its business.... You have not yet told me what you learned."
After some deliberation he said:
"I know of Sâkya-mûni; and I know that monks from Shingtse-lunpo accompanied the abbot who pilgrimaged to Gaya."
A second time she nodded. "Do you know what occurred at Gaya?"
Trent's heart was beating swiftly as he countered:
"You should know; you were there at the time."