"What a certain dungeon holds!" Stumbling down the hill, urged by Ahmed's blows, only one thought occupied his mind: to wreak his vengeance for these indignities upon an innocent girl.
But now a new fear entered his craven soul, craven as all cruel souls are.

Some one knew! He fell into the arms of his troopers and they carried him to a litter, thence to the palace.

His back was covered with bruises, and but for the thickness of his cummerbund he must have died under the beating, which had been thorough and masterly.

"What a certain dungeon holds!" In his chamber Umballa called for his peg of brandy and champagne, which for some reason did not take hold as usual.

For the first time in his life Durga Ram, so-called Umballa, knew what agony was.