for an issue with the priest. His report had to be ready by morning, yet
he hardly dared begin it without knowing what the priest might have in
mind; and on his own intricate knowledge of the situation might depend
whether or not he could extract, from a man more subtle than himself,
information on which to base sound proposals to his government. His
reputation was decidedly at stake; and dangerous intrigue was in the
air, or else the priest would never be coming to visit him.

Sita Ram kept peeping at him through the knot-hole, as a cook peers
at a tit-bit in the oven, to judge whether it is properly cooked yet.

Jinendra's priest had had time for reflection. True to his kidney, he
trusted nobody, unlike Yasmini who knew whom to trust, and when,
and just how far. It was all over the city that Gungadhura's practises
were hastening his ruin, so it was obviously wise not to espouse the
maharajah's cause, in addition to which he had become convinced in
his own mind that Yasmini actually knew the whereabouts of the Sialpore
treasure. But he did not trust Yasmini either, nor did he relish her
scornful promise of a mere percentage of the hoard when it should
at last be found. He wanted at least the half of it, bargains to the contrary
notwithstanding; and he had that comfortable conscience that has
soothed so many priests, that argues how the church must be above
all bargains, all bonds, all promises. Was there any circumstance,
or man, or woman who could bind and circumscribe Jinendra's high
priest? He laughed at the suggestion of it. Samson was the man to see--
Samson the man to be inveigled in the nets. So he sent his verbal
message by the mouth of Sita Ram--a very pious devotee of Jinendra
by Yasmini's special orders; and, disguising his enormous bulk in a
thin cloak, set forth long after dark in a covered cart drawn by two tiny bulls.