might or might not be corroborative evidence, folded the letter away
in his tunic pocket, and made a gesture of assent.

"Now, lady, hurry!" said Tom. "And here's hoping you're right about
there being no hell! I've told lies enough tonight to damn my soul forever!
Once you're safely through the gate I'll have a word or two more with
the guard, and then your husband and I will go to a place close by that
I know of and wait for you."

But Tess objected to that. "Please don't leave me waiting for you in
the dark outside the gate when I return! Why not keep the carriage here;
my husband won't mind."

"Might make talk, ma'am. I'll leave Trotters here to watch for you. He'll
bring word in less than a minute."

Tom Tripe dismounted to help her out of the dog-cart. The Rajput
struck the iron gate as if he expected to have to wake the dead and
take an hour about it. But it opened suspiciously quickly and a bearded
Afridi, of all unlikely people, thrust an expectant face outward, rather
like a tortoise emerging from its shell, blinking as he tried to recognize
the shadowy forms that moved in the confusing lamplight. He seemed
to know whom to expect and admit, for he beckoned Tess with a long
crooked forefinger the moment she approached the gate, and in another
ten seconds the iron clanged behind her, shutting her off from husband
and all present hope of succor. The chance of any rescuer entering
the palace that night, whether by force or subtlety, was infinitesimal.

The strange gateman--he had a little kennel of a place to sleep in just
inside the entrance--snatched the hamper from Tess and led her almost