"You must dismiss Chamu," she insisted. "He is Gungadhura's man, and the cook is under the heel of Chamu. Either man would poison his own mother for a day's pay! Send them both about their business the first thing in the morning if you value your life! Before they go, let them see you put a great lock on the cellar door, and nail it as well, and put weights on it! If men come at any time to pry about the house, ask Samson sahib for a special policeman to guard the place!"
"But what is all this leading to?" demanded Dick. "What does it mean?"
"It means," she said slowly, "that the toils are closing in on Gungadhura!"
"The way I figure it," he answered, "some one else had a pretty narrow shave tonight!"
Yasmini knew better than to threaten Dick, or even to argue with him vehemently, much less give him orders. But each man has a line of least resistance.
"Your wife has told you what Gungadhura attempted?" she asked him.
"Yes, while you were at the money-lender's—something of it."
"If the guard should tell Gungadhura that your wife was in the palace with me and could give evidence against him, what do you suppose Gungadhura would do?"
"Damn him!" Dick murmured.
"There are so many ways—snakes—poison—daggers in the dark—"