He raised his glance upward frantically.
"Jey Bhowani! give me strength, give me courage! For if I fail …"
He glared at her passionately, clutching his bosom; then, pressing the necklet to his lips, he concealed it again, and bent, whispering urgently:
"Listen again—I reveal it to you without price or hope of reward, for I know there is no love in your heart to give, Miska; I know that it takes you out of my sight for always. But I tell you what I learn in the house of Abdul Rozan. Your life is your own, Miska! With the needle"—yet closer he bent to her ear and even softer he spoke—"he pricks your white skin—no more! The vial he sends contains a harmless cordial!"
"Chunda Lal!"
Miska swayed again dizzily, clutching at the Hindu for support.
"Quick! fly!" he said, leading her to the door. "I will see he does not pursue!"
"No, no! you shall shed no blood for me! Not even his. You come also!"
"And if he escape, and know that I was false to him, he will call me back, and I shall be dragged to those yellow eyes, though I am a thousand miles away! Inshalla! those eyes! No—I must strike swift, or he robs me of my strength."
For a long moment Miska hesitated.