"As the officer rose to regard the wound, and understood its significance, he shuddered and looked upon the hapless heir-apparent with a sort of bluff compassion, but he made no further attempt to pursue his investigations, and Ram Lal was spared one sanguinary entry upon the book of his recording angel.

"'At least,' said the officer, as if in continuation of some unexpressed idea, 'let us do ourselves the honor of disposing the prince upon his bed'; and Ram Lal supporting the head and shoulders and the officer grasping the feet, they carried the stiffened form to the bed.

"'May I ask the privilege,' said Ram Lal, 'of composing the features and the body of the prince?'

"'Surely,' replied the officer, as he bestowed a departing glance upon this last descendant of the long line of moghuls with a degree of deference that was the result of his military training and his own subjection to discipline, 'surely he is sadly in need of such a service.'

"For his arms, although disengaged somewhat by their efforts, and the clutch of the distorted fingers, though not so distended, still pointed upward in a sort of eerie, rigid salutation to the subdued watchers.

"The eyes, too, which but a short time before had been so vivid with the contentions of restraint and desire, stared with a ghastly lack of speculation.

"As the officer turned to leave Ram Lal undisturbed in the performance of this last duty to the dead, the merchant, presently assured that he would be free from intrusion for a time sufficient for his ostensible purposes, approached the body, tore aside the delicate fabric, which covered the breast, and with surprising dexterity released the fastenings which held the jacket to the body, wrenched it away with desperate haste, and in an incredibly short time had secured this treasure-trove around his own loins beneath the folds of his linen.

"Then, with a grin of malignant triumph, he murmured: 'This is more speedy, O prince, than pebbles for diamonds--and now for Lal Lu.'

"With this the merchant darted to the hangings from which the prince had issued with such desperate purpose, cast them ruthlessly aside, hurried along the passageway, shouting as he speeded: 'Lal Lu--Lal Lu!'

"A joyful cry responded.

"'Here, father, here!' and Lal Lu, who had recognized her father's call, rushed toward the entrance just as the merchant crossed its threshold, and in a moment she was enfolded in his protecting embrace."

"Is that all?" asked Raikes as the Sepoy paused.

"Isn't it enough?" laughed the narrator. "The villain punished, the righteous rewarded, the maiden rescued. It seems to me that all the proprieties are preserved."

"True," assented Raikes. "You are to be congratulated upon your consistency. But as usual your art is a bit too refined. You still discontinue with a question unsolved."

"Name it," replied the Sepoy; "perhaps I can clear up the difficulty at once."

"Well," returned Raikes, "there is all that wealth concealed about the person of Ram Lal; I am interested to know if he retained it, to what use he put it. If it is inconsistent in your narrative to reply to these questions, waive your formalities for once."

"Why not?" laughed the Sepoy. "Still, I can only approximate to your request. There was a report that Ram Lal and his daughter disappeared shortly after the raid upon the Kutub.

"It is also said that a dealer in precious stones opened an establishment on the Strand in London, and that his description corresponded in so many points with that of Ram Lal that it is safe to infer that the twain are identical."

"That is better," sighed Raikes. "I will assume that the report is correct since it relieves my mind on one point, at any rate. However, there is one question more: Can you tell me how that substitution was made?"

"Pebbles for diamonds?"

"Yes."

"To do so requires another story, which I cannot tell you to-night,"

replied the Sepoy. "How about to-morrow evening?"

"If that's the only way?" queried Raikes.

"It is," the Sepoy assured him.

"I will be here, then," said Raikes, "but I must leave you now; I will see you at breakfast-time."

With this Raikes departed and made his way along the dim passages to his room.

Arrived at this point, and taking his customary precautions for the night, Raikes prepared to retire.

Since the process involved such little attention to detail in its almost aboriginal readiness, it was not long before Raikes was tucked away in his uneasy rest.

Possibly a half hour later a series of labored snores announced his successful escape from the disturbing realities of the day and his stentorian entrance upon more fictitious complications.

Just across the hallway, in the room occupied by his nephew, conditions were more animated, for Robert, giving his admiring and somewhat incredulous attention to the alert Gratz, sat with his eyes bright with the acknowledgment of the purport of the speaker.

Just a trace of excitement appeared in the manner of the detective.

He had witnessed the return of the sleepy Raikes to his room, and was relieved to be able to assure himself that the miser was altogether unaware of his presence.

Gratz was about to provide himself with the confirmation of a theory which he dared not discuss in advance.

The possibilities of failure were numerous enough to provide him with the element of fascination, and its bizarre unfamiliarity piqued his imagination.

If he was not mistaken in his calculations, he would be in possession, before morning, of some interesting data which would make a startling addition to the criminal records to which his past activities had contributed.

The suggestion which stimulated him was the last which would occur to a wholly sensible man and the first which would be likely to present itself to a genius for speculation and morbid analysis.

Consequently silence upon these somewhat abstruse reasonings was his safeguard against ridicule in the event of failure.

However, he had intimated to Robert that events would transpire during the night which would be illuminative, but he could not be persuaded to indicate to the curious youth just what to expect.

Whatever was to occur, Robert was assured that he would witness; in fact, he would be a necessary feature to the mysterious plans of the detective.

Stimulated, therefore, by these occult hints and the lively prospect they introduced, the young man developed a clandestine emotion of weird anticipation, which he readily accredited to an unsuspected fitness for intrigue.

Gratz, in the meantime, having primed the young enthusiast, maintained an irritating silence, and when an hour had passed in this spiritless fashion Robert was electrified by the solitary word "Now!" from the lips of the enigmatical Gratz.

Unable to comprehend the significance of the subdued exclamation, Robert nevertheless followed the detective with confiding docility, and the pair hastened down a flight of stairs which conducted them to the main hallway.

From this Gratz proceeded to a door directly beneath the stairway which they had just traversed, and which opened upon another short series of steps that concluded in the cellar.

Descending these, the two hastened along the chill floor and presently paused by the main coal-bin in which the widow stored her fuel.

With an impressive injunction to silence, Gratz indicated the course which Robert was expected to pursue, and in the recess created by a flight of disused stairs the two secreted themselves.

It was pitch dark.

Neither of the watchers could see the other, and communication was only maintained by the reassuring pressure of the hand of the detective upon the arm of the excited Robert.

At last the latter ventured to inquire in a whisper what it was that Gratz expected to discover.

"The solution of the puzzle," replied the other in the same tone.