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“Who are you?” asked Johnson in return.

“I am Protap Roy,” answered Protap. Bakaullah remembered that name. Gun in hand, Protap had proudly held forth on the barge, “Listen, my name is Protap.” At once Bakaullah cried out, “Master, that man is the ringleader.”

Johnson caught Protap by one arm, Galstaun took the other. Protap found that resistance was useless. He quietly bore all. The sergeant had the handcuffs with him, and he fastened them on Protap’s hands. Pointing at the prostrate Ramcharan, Galstaun said, “Why do you leave that fellow?” Johnson ordered two sepoys to take him also, and they dragged Ramcharan along.

The tumult had roused Dalani and Kulsam from their sleep and put them into a great fright. With the door of their chamber slightly ajar they had been peeping out and observing everything. Their sleeping-room adjoined the stairs.

When the Englishmen descended with Ramcharan, the light from a candle in the hand of a sepoy, suddenly fell through the slightly parted door on the sapphire eyes of Dalani. Bakaullah saw those eyes and at once cried out, “There, there is the mistress of Mr. Foster!”

“Exactly so, where is she?” asked Galstaun.

Pointing at the aforesaid door, Bakaullah said, “There, in that room.”

Johnson and Galstaun entered the room and observing Dalani and Kulsam said, “You must come with us.”

In terror and bewilderment Dalani and Kulsam followed them.

Shaibalini was left alone in the house. She too had seen everything.