"Could Kharvani but appear, could her worshipers but see Kharvani
manifest, what would a lakh, two lakhs, a crore of rupees mean to
me, the High Priest of her temple? I could give thee anything! The
power over all India would be in my hands! Kharvani would but appear
and say thus and thus, and thus would it be done!"
The Risaldar's hand had risen to his mustache. His back was still
turned on the priest, but he showed interest. His eyes wandered to
where Ruth lay in a heap by the inner door and then away again.
"Who would believe it?" he growled in an undertone.
"They would all believe it! One and all! Even Mohammedans would
become Hindus to worship at her shrine and beg her favors. Thou
and I alone would share the secret. Listen! Loose me these bonds--
my limbs ache."
Mahommed Khan turned. He stooped and cut them with his sword.
"Now I can talk," said the priest, sitting up and rubbing his ankles.
"Listen. Take thou two horses and gallop off, so that the rest may
think that the white woman has escaped. Then return here secretly
and name thy price--and hold thy tongue!"
"And leave her in thy hands?" asked the Risaldar.
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