to be authentic, but you never can tell. A Brahman sold it to me
that he might complete his daughter's dowry, and hated doing it."

"May I see it?"

"Why certainly. Not a very good light, but - can do, as the
Chinks say.

He brought it out rolled in silk stuff and I carried it under the
hanging lamp. A beautiful young man indeed, with the air of race
these people have beyond all others;- a cold haughty face,
immovably dignified. He sat with his hands resting lightly on the
arms of his chair of State. A crescent of rubies clasped the
folds of the turban and from this sprang an aigrette scattering
splendours. The magnificent hilt of a sword was ready beside him.
The face was not only beautiful but arresting.

"A strange picture," I said. "The artist has captured the man
himself. I can see him trampling on any one who opposed him, and
suffering in the same cold secret way. It ought to he authentic
if it isn't. Don't you know any more?"

"Nothing. Well - to bed, and tomorrow I'll see Rup Singh."

I was glad when he returned with the permission. I was to be very
careful, he said, to make no allusion to the lost palace, for two
women were staying at the House in the Woods - a mother and
daughter to whom Rup Singh had granted hospitality because of an
obligation he must honor. But with true Oriental distrust of
women he had thought fit to make no confidence to them. I