the whisperers, after a few words had been exchanged, "people in your house may hear us."
"None can be awake at this hour," said Rajmohan, as Matangini guessed from the voice.
"Had we not better go a little further off from the wall? Should any one happen to be awake, she could not then overhear us," observed the other.
"No," returned Rajmohan, "should any be awake as you fear, then we are best as we are, for here under the shadows of the wall and the eaves, no one can possibly see us from the house—neither through the chinks nor probably from outside, should people happen to be out at this hour."
"True," said the other, "but who are in this room here?"
"Why should I tell you that?" Rajmohan said, but immediately addressed, "there can be no harm in telling it, in my chamber there is nobody there but my wife."
"Are you sure she is asleep?" demanded the other.
"I think so, but I will go round and see, you wait here."
Matangini now heard steps receding, Softly and noiselessly she trod the floors and returned to her bed, on which she alighted still more gently and cautiously, so that the least rustling of clothes was not heard. She then threw herself into a posture of sleep, and shut her eyes.
Rajmohan came round to the door of his
