Lord Illingworth blazed with fury.
"He has swallowed it," he said. "We shall have to cut him open."
Ramma Lal translated this terrific threat. The Hindoo gave a yell. Despair lent him strength. With a serpentine twist he slid from the grasp of one of his captors and knocked up the arm of the other. The window was still open. He sprang through it into the darkness of the night.
Lord Illingworth ran to the window, fired blindly, and then rushed from the room. The others followed. Only the Baboo, his two captors, and the boy with the clothes remained.
"Come along," said one of the grooms.
"Stay for one moment, I beseech you," said Ramma Lal, "and let me worship Agni the god."
"None of yer blarney," returned the man. But the other, who was of a romantic temperament, said, "Wot's the odds? Let the heathen do it if he wants."
"You see, gentlemen," said the Baboo eagerly, "it is my very last opportunity. I shall be lifelong imprisoned for the inauspicious event of this evening. It is positively my last appearance in the open. Let me worship Agni as I do in my own land. No Englishman has yet witnessed the entire ceremony. It shall not take long. I will compress my supplications. Five minutes will be ample dispensation."
The grooms looked at each other. Their curiosity settled the matter.
"We'll give you four minutes, so look sharp," said one.