Footsteps came hurrying down the corridor. A sudden impulse, a reawakening of the spirit of action and enterprise, which had carried him through his life, bade him grasp her hand and drag from it the loosely fitting ring.
"I will see you again—dead or living, I will help you," he said.
The next instant he drew quickly back. A white-bearded native servant had entered and was moving swiftly with cat-like stealth toward the veiled figure by the window. He was breathless, as though with hard running, and seemed oblivious of Travers' presence until, with an exclamation of relief, he had grasped the unresisting figure by the wrist. Then he turned, salaaming profoundly.
"May the Lord Sahib forgive his servant!" he said with a humility which in Travers' ears rang curiously ironical. "The woman is possessed of a devil who speaketh lies out of her mouth. It would cost thy servant dear if she were found with the Lord Sahib."
Travers assumed an air of indifference.
"Who is she?" he asked carelessly.
"My wife, Lord Sahib. The devil has possessed her these many years."
Travers caught the flash of the cunning, suspicious eyes and knew that the man had lied. But he said nothing, dismissing him and his captive with a gesture. Only for an instant, governed by an irresistible instinct, he glanced over his shoulder. He saw then that the woman's head was turned toward him and that one white hand was raised as though in mingled appeal and imperative command. Travers nodded almost imperceptibly and she disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.
For some minutes Travers remained motionless, then, as though nothing unusual had happened, he resumed his critical survey of the precious stones with which the pillars were adorned, apparently so absorbed that he did not notice the sound of approaching footsteps. Only when he was called by name did he look up with a start of pleased surprise.
"Ah, Your Highness!" he exclaimed.