There was a hint of iron in his voice, and he was obviously not the
man to threaten and not fulfil. But she laughed in his face.
"All in good time!" she answered him. "You shall beg for your
Ranjoor Singh, and then perhaps he shall step forth from the burning
house! But first you shall know why you _must_ beg."
She clapped her hands, and a maid appeared. She gave an order, and
the maid brought sherbet that Kirby sniffed suspiciously before
tasting. Again she laughed deliciously.
"Does the sahib think that he could escape alive from this room did
I will otherwise?" she asked. "Would I need to drug--I who have so
many means?"
Now, it is a maxim of light cavalry that the best means of defense
lies in attack; a threat of force should be met by a show of force,
and force by something quicker. Kirby's eyes and his adjutant's met.
Each felt for his hidden pistol. But she laughed at them with mirth
that was so evidently unassumed that they blushed to their ears.
"Look!" she said; and they looked.
Two great gray cobras, male and female, swayed behind them less than
a yard away, balanced for the strike, hoods raised. The awful, ugly
black eyes gleamed with malice. And a swaying cobra's head is not an
easy thing to hit with an automatic-pistol bullet, supposing, for
wild imagination's sake, that the hooded devil does not strike first.
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