What answer the Rajah, whose stealthy face grew livid at this sally,
might have made, was stopped by Atmâ, who, well aware of the danger to
his companion from such an enemy, and all unknowing of his own place in
the Rajah's esteem, interposed with courteous speech.

"We are on our way," said he, "to the Moslem burial-place near by, the
tombs of which have become interesting through the tales of Nawab Khan.
Bertram Sahib jests, we will be gratified by Rajah Lal Singh joining
us."

The Rajah had regained self-possession and declined the proffered
courtesy in his usual cold and sneering manner, adding with a crafty
smile and with covert meaning, which perplexed and startled Bertram:

"It is a wise man who familiarizes himself with the grave. For me; I
must deny myself, for I go tomorrow to take part in festivities the
reverse of funereal. I commend the propriety and aptness of your
researches, Atmâ Singh."

So saying he withdrew with a salaam that failed to cover the swift
scowl he bestowed on Bertram.

"There goes an enemy, Atmâ Singh," said Bertram, watching the retreating
figure arrayed in barbaric splendour, the profusion of the enormous
emeralds that adorned his yellow robe so subduing its hue that Bertram's
thrust was unmerited, as far as his attire was concerned at least. "He
is a foe to fear, unless I greatly mistake, an enemy of the serpent
kind," he continued.