"Ayeshi—why have you done this——?"
His wild eyes met hers for an instant's desperate intentness.
"Mem-Sahib—I loved my country—my gods—the history of them was in my blood. And then in Calcutta—the misery—the thwarted ambition—my people starving—the Englishman in the high place. They told me they were ripe for revolt—only they needed a leader—a leader who would carry the country-people with him. I came back. Vahana lied to me. I believed that my father had been robbed and murdered—that my heritage had been stolen from me—that Tristram Sahib himself had known who I was and made me his servant——" His voice broke. "But it was a lie—I had no heritage—no wrongs to avenge—I was their tool—and now—Mem-Sahib, if ever you should meet him, tell him it was a false dream—but that Ayeshi loved him——"
She nodded. She could not answer him, and they rode on in silence till suddenly, Vahana, whom they could still see dimly ahead of them, turned to the left and pointed up towards the jungle.
"There—there is escape, O Lord Ayeshi! The Sacred Path that leads to the Shrine of the Snake-god. Who follows?"
The shrill cry died into silence. There was no answer. Barclay came splashing back through the water. His face glowed with a sombre excitement.
"It seems there's some secret passage up through the jungle. We may be able to get right away. At any rate, it's our only chance."
But Ayeshi sat rigid in his saddle, and that which Barclay saw in his eyes silenced him.
"There is a curse on all those who profane the Snake-god's sanctity——"
Barclay burst out laughing.