as a shipwrecked sailor clings to a plank. Never mind the past – the future has peril and danger enough. You know why I am here?"
"To save your house from the curse upon it. To bring the East and West together, and tell of the vilest conspiracy the world has ever seen. Do you know who the guilty creature is, whose hand is actually striking the blow?"
"I think so; in fact I am sure of it. But who would believe my accusation?"
"Who, indeed! But we shall be in a position to prove our case, now that the secrets of the prison-house lie before us. We have three to fear."
"Yes, yes," said Ralph. "The two Bonzes – who have actually been seen near Ravenspur – and the Princess Zara. Could she recognize me?"
Ralph asked the question in almost passionate entreaty.
"I am certain she could not," Tchigorsky replied. "Come, victory shall be ours yet. Here we are at my house at last. By the way, you must have a name. You shall be my cousin Nicholas Tchigorsky, a clever savant, who, by reason of a deplorable accident, has become both blind and dumb. Allons."
CHAPTER VIII
A MASTER OF FENCE
Lady Mallowbloom's reception rooms were more than usually crowded. And every other man or woman in the glittering salon was a celebrity. There was a strong sprinkling of the aristocracy to leaven the lump; here and there the flash of red cloth and gold could be seen.
In his quiet, masterly style Tchigorsky pushed his way up the stairs. Ralph Ravenspur followed, his hand upon the Russian's arm. He could feel the swish of satin draperies go by him; he caught the perfume on the warm air.
"Why do you drag me here?" he grumbled. "I can see nothing; it only bewilders me. I should have been far happier in your study."
"You mope too much," Tchigorsky said gaily. "To mingle with one's fellows is good at times. I know so many people who are here to-night."
"And I know nobody; add to which circumstances compel me to be dumb. Place me in some secluded spot with my back to the wall, and then enjoy yourself for an hour. I dare say I shall manage to kill the time."
There were many celebrities in the brilliantly-lighted room, and Tchigorsky indicated a few. A popular lady novelist passed on the arm of a poet on her way to the buffet.
"A wonderful woman," the fair authoress was saying. "Eastern and full of mystery, you know. Did you notice the eyes of the Princess?"
"Who could fail to?" was the reply. "They say that she is quite five and forty, and yet she would easily pass for eighteen, but for her knowledge of the world. Your Eastern Princess is one of the most fascinating women I have even seen."
Others passed, and had the same theme. Ralph stirred to a faint curiosity.
"Who is the new marvel?" he asked.
"I don't know," Tchigorsky admitted. "The last new lion, I suppose. Some pretty Begum or the wife of some Oriental whose dark eyes appear to have fired society. By the crowd of people coming this way I presume the dusky beauty is among them. If so, she has an excellent knowledge of English."
A clear, sweet voice arose. At the first sound of it, Ralph jumped to his feet and clutched at his throat as if something choked him. He shook with a great agitation; a nameless fear had him in a close grip.
"Do you recognize the voice?" Ralph gasped.
The Russian was not unmoved. But his agitation was quickly suppressed. He forced Ralph down in his seat again.
"You will have to behave better than that if you are to be a trusty ally of mine," he said. "Come, that is better! Sit still; she is coming this way."
"I'm all right now," Ralph replied. "The shock of finding myself in the presence of Princess Zara was overpowering. Have no fear for me."
A tall woman, magnificently dressed, was making her way towards Tchigorsky. Her face was the hue of old ivory, and as fine; her great lustrous eyes gleamed brightly; a mass of hair was piled high on a daintily poised head. The woman might have been extremely young so far as the touch of time was concerned, but the easy self-possession told another tale.
The red lips tightened for an instant, a strange gleam came into the dark magnetic eyes as they fell upon Tchigorsky. Then the Indian Princess advanced with a smile, and held out her hand to the Russian.
"So you are still here!" she said.
There was the suggestion of a challenge in her tones. Her eyes met those of Tchigorsky as the eyes of two swordsmen might meet. There was a tigerish playfulness underlying the words, a call-note of significant warning.
"I still take the liberty of existing," said Tchigorsky.
"You are a brave man, doctor. Your friend here?"
"Is my cousin Nicholas Tchigorsky? The poor fellow is blind and dumb, as the result of a terrible accident. Best not to notice him."
The Princess shrugged her beautiful shoulders as she dropped gracefully into a seat.
"I heard you were in London," she said, "and something told me that we should meet sooner or later. You are still interested in occult matters?"
Again Ralph detected the note of warning in the speech. He could see nothing of the expression on that perfect face; but he could judge it fairly well.
"I am more interested in occult matters than ever," Tchigorsky said gravely, "especially in certain discoveries placed in my hands by a traveler in Tibet."
"Ah, that was your fellow-countryman. He died, you know!"
"He was murdered in the vilest manner. But before the end, he managed to convey important information to me."
"Useless information unless you had the key."
"There was one traveler who found the key, you remember?"
"True, doctor. He also, I fancy, met with an accident that, unfortunately, resulted in his death."
Ralph shuddered slightly. Princess Zara's tones were hard as steel. If she had spoken openly and callously of this man being murdered, she could not have expressed the same thing more plainly. A beautiful woman, a fascinating one; but a woman with no heart and no feeling where her hatreds were concerned.
"It is just possible I have the key," said Tchigorsky.
The eyes of the Princess blazed for a moment. Then she smiled.
"Dare you use it?" she asked. "If you dare, then all the secrets of heaven and hell are yours. For four thousand years the priests of the temple at Lassa and the heads of my family have solved the future. You know what we can do. We are all powerful for evil. We can strike down our foes by means unknown to your boasted Western science. They are all the same to us, proud potentate, ex-meddling doctor."
There was a menace in the last words. Tchigorsky smiled:
"The meddling doctor has already had personal experience," he said. "I carry the marks of my suffering to the grave. I remember how your peasants treated me and this does not tend to relax my efforts."
"And yet you might die at any moment. If you persist in your studies you will have to die. The eyes of Western
