CASTE

BY

W. A. FRASER

AUTHOR OF "RED MEEKINS, " "BULLDOG CARNEY, " "THE THREE SAPPHIRES, " "THELONE FURROW, " "THOROUGHBREDS, " ETC. 

NEW YORK

GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

CASTE. II

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CASTE

CHAPTER I

The three Mahrattas, Sindhia, Holkar, and Bhonsla, were plotting theoverthrow of the British, and the Peshwa was looking out of broodingeyes upon Hodson, the Resident at Poona. 

Up on the hill, in the temple of Parvati, the priests repeated prayersto the black goddess calling for the destruction of the hated whites. 

Each one of the twenty-four priests as he came with a handful ofmarigolds laid them one by one at the feet of the four-armed hideousidol, repeating: "_Om, Parvati_! _Om, Parvati_!" the comprehensive, all-embracing "_Om_" that meant adoration and a clamour for favour. Even to Nandi, the brass bull that carried Shiva, he appealed, "_OmShiva_!"

But down on the rock-plateau, where gleamed in the hot sun marblepalaces, a more malign influence was at work. Dandhu Panth, theadopted son of the Peshwa, had come back from Oxford, and the Englishbelieved he had been changed into an Englishman, Nana Sahib. 

Outwardly he was a sporting, well-dressed gentleman, such as Oxfordturns out; but in his heart was lust of power, and hatred of the whiterace that he felt would make his inheritance, the Peshwaship, but avassalage. His dreams of ruling India would fade, and he would sit apensioner of the British. The Mahrattas had been stigmatised by acaptious Mogul ruler, "mountain rats. " As Hindus there was a sharpcleavage of character; the Brahmins, fanatical, high up in the castescale, and all the rest of the breed inferior, vicious, blood-thirsty, a horde of pirates. Even the man who first made them a power, Sivaji, had been of questionable lineage, a plebeian; and so the body corporatewas of inflammable material--little restraint of breeding. 

And for all Nana Sahib's veneer of English class, mental development, beneath the English shirt he wore the _junwa_, the three-strand sacredthread, insignia of the twice-born, --the Brahmin. 

From Governor General to the British officers who played polo with thePeshwa's son, they all accepted him as one of themselves; considered itgood diplomacy that he had been sent to Oxford and made over. 

There was just one man who had misgivings, the Resident at Poona. Hewas a small, tired, worn-out official--an executive, a perpetual wheelin the works, always close to the red-tape-tied papers, always. Strange that one not a dreamer, no sixth-sense, should have attained toan intuition--which it was, his distrust of the cheery, sporty NanaSahib. That Hodson's superiors intimated that India was getting to hisliver when he wrote, very cautiously, of this obsession, made nodifference; and clinging to his distrust, he achieved something. 

After all it was rather strange that the matter had not been taken outof his hands, but it wasn't. A sort of departmental formula running;"Commissioner So-and-So has the matter in hand--refer to him. " And so, when a new danger appeared on the distressed horizon, Amir Khan and ahundred thousand massed horsemen, Captain Barlow was sent to consultwith the Resident. That was the way; a secretive, trusty, brave man, for in India the written page is never inviolate. 

Captain Barlow was sent--ostensibly as an assistant to the Resident, inreality to acquire full knowledge of the situation, and then go to thecamp of Amir Khan with the delicate mission of persuading him not tojoin his riding spear-men to the Mahratta force, but to form analliance with the British. 

The Resident had asked for Barlow. He had explained that any show ofinterest, two men, or five, or twenty, an envoy, even men of pronouncedposition, would defeat their object; in fact, believing Nana Sahib tobe what he was, he conceived the very simple idea of playing theOriental's Orientalism against him. 

Barlow would be the last man in India to whom one as suspicious as thePeshwa's son would attribute a subtlety deep enough for a seriousmission. He was a great handsome boy; in his physical excellence hewas beautiful; courage was manifest in the strong content of his deepbrown eyes. Incidentally that was one of the reasons the Resident hadasked for him, though he would have denied it, even to his daughter, Elizabeth, though it was for her sake--that part of it. 

The affair with Elizabeth had been going on for two or three years;never quite settled--always hovering. 

Indeed the Resident's daughter was not constituted to raise a cycloneof passion, a tempest of feeling that brings an impetuous declarationof love from any man. She was altogether proper; well-bred; admirable;perhaps somewhat of the type so opposite to Barlow's impressionablenature that ultimately, all in good time, they would realise that thescheme of creation had marked them for each other. And Colonel Hodsonalmost prayed for this. It was desirable in every way. Barlow was ofa splendid family; some day he might become Lord Barradean. 

Anyway Captain Barlow was there playing polo with Nana Sahib--one ofthe Prince's favourites; and waiting for a certain paper that would besent to the Resident that would contain offers of an alliance with thePindari Chief. 

And this same hovering menace of the Pindari force was causing NanaSahib unrest. Perhaps there had been a leak, as cautiously as theResident had made every move. If the Pindari army were to join theBritish, ready at a moment's notice to fall on the flank of theMahrattas, harass them with guerilla warfare, it would be serious; theywere as elusive as a huge pack of wolves; unencumbered by campfollowers, artillery, foraging as they went, swooping like birds ofprey, they were a terrible enemy. Even as the tiger slinks in dreadfrom a pack of the red wild-dogs, so a regular force might well dreadthese flying horsemen. 

And it was Amir Khan that Nana Sahib, and the renegade Frenchcommander, Jean Baptiste, dreaded and distrusted. Overtures had beenmade to him without result. He was a wonderful leader. He had madethe name of the Pindari feared throughout India. He was the magnetthat held this huge body of fighting devils together. 

Thus with the gigantic chess-board set; the possession of Indiatrembling in the balance; intellects of the highest developmentpondering; Fate held the trump card, curiously, a girl; and not one ofthe players had ever heard her name, the Gulab Begum. 

CHAPTER II

The white sand plain surrounding Chunda was dotted with the tents ofthe Mahratta force Sirdar Baptiste commanded. And the Sirdar, his soulathirst for a go at the English, whom he hated with the same rabidferocity that possessed the soul of Nana Sahib, was busy. FromPondicherry he had inveigled French gunners; and from Goa, Portuguese. Also these renegade whites were skilled in drill. If Holkar andBhonsla did their part it would be Armageddon when the hell that wasbrewing burst. 

But Baptiste feared the Pindari. As he swung here and there on hisArab the horse's hoofs seemed to pound from the resonant sands thewords "Amir Khan--Amir Khan! Pin-dar-is, Pin-dar-is!"

It was as he discussed this very thing with his Minister, Dewan Sewlal, that Nana Sahib swirled up the gravelled drive to the bungalow on hisgolden-chestnut Arab, in his mind an inspiration gleaned from somethingthat had been. 

His greeting of the two was light, sporty; his thin well-chiselled facecarried the bright indifferent vivacity of a fox terrier. 

"Good day, Sirdar, " he cried gaily; and, "How listen the gods to yourprayers, my dear Dewani?"

Baptiste, out of the fulness of his heart soon broached the troublousthing: "Prince, " he begged, "obtain from the worthy Peshwa a commandand I'll march against this wolf, Amir Khan, and remove from our paththe threatened danger. "

Nana Sahib laughed; his white, even teeth were dazzling as theblack-moustached lip lifted. 

"Sirdar, when I send two Rampore hounds from my kennel to make the killof a tiger you may tackle Amir Khan. Even if we could crumple up thisblighter it's not cricket--we need those Pindari chaps--but not as deadmen. Besides, I detest bloodshed. "

The Dewan rolled his bulbous eyes despairingly: "If Sindhia would sendten camel loads of gold to this accursed Musselman, we could sleep inpeace, " he declared. 

"If it were a woman Sindhia would, " Nana Sahib sneered. 

Baptiste laughed. 

"It is a wisdom, Prince, for that is where the revenue goes: women area curse in the affairs of men, " the Dewan commented. 

"With four wives your opinion carries weight, Dewani, " and Nana Sahibtapped the fat knee of the Minister with his riding whip. 

Baptiste turned to the Prince. "There will be trouble over thesePindaris; your friends, the English--eh, Nana Sahib--"

As though the handsome aquiline face of the Peshwa's son had beenstruck with a glove it changed to the face of a devil; the lipsthinned, and shrinking, left the strong white teeth bare in a wolf'ssnarl. Under the black eyebrows the eyes gleamed like fire-lit amber;the thin-chiselled nostrils spread and through them the palpitatingbreath rasped a whistling note of suppressed passion. 

"Sirdar, " he said, "never call me Nana Sahib again. The English callme that, but I wait--must wait; I smile and suffer. I am Dandhu Panth, a Brahmin. The English so loved me that they tried to make anEnglishman of me, but, by Brahm! they taught me hate, which is theirlot till the sea swallows the last of the accursed breed andMahrattaland is free!"

Nana Sahib was panting with the intensity of his passion. He paced thefloor flicking at his brown boots with his whip, and presently whirledto say with a sneering smile on his thin lips:

"The English can teach a man just one thing--to die for his ideals. "

"Yes, Prince, of a certainty the Englishman knows how to die for hiscountry, " Baptiste agreed in a soldier's tribute to courage. 

"And for another nation's country, " Nana Sahib rasped. "He is a bornpirate, a bred pirate--we in India know that; and that, General, is whyI am a Brahmin, because they alone will free Mahrattaland--faith, ideals. Forms! the gods to me are not more than show-pieces. ThatKali spreads the cholera is one with the idea that the littlered-daubed stone Linga gets the woman a male child, false; these thingsare in ourselves, and in Brahm. The priests sacrifice to Shiva, but Iwill sacrifice to Mahrattaland, which to me is the supreme God. "

Jean Baptiste looked out of his wise grey eyes into the handsome faceand felt a thrill, an awakening, the terrible sincerity of the speaker. At times the ferocity in the eyes when he had spoken of sacrificecaused the free-lance soldier to shiver. A blur of red floated beforehis eyes--something of a fateful forecasting that some day the awfulstorm that was brewing would break, and the fanatical Brahmin in frontof him would call for English blood to glut his hate. It was the moreappalling that Nana Sahib was so young. Closing his eyes Baptisteheard the voice of an English Oxonian that perhaps should be chortlingof polo and cricket and racing; and yet the more danger--theyouthfulness of the agent of destruction; like a Napoleon--a corporalas a boy. "_C'est la guerre_!" the French officer murmured. 

Then, as a storm passing is often followed by smiling sunshine, so themood of Nana Sahib changed. He had the volatile temperament of aLatin, and now he turned to the Minister, his face having undergone acomplete metamorphosis: "Dewani, " he said, "do you remember when acertain raja sent his Prime Minister and twenty thousand men to punishPertab for not paying his taxes, and Pertab gave one Bhart, a Bagree, ten thousand rupees and a village to bring him the Minister'shead--which he did, tied to the inside of his brass-studded shield?"

"Yes, Prince; that is a way of this land. "

Nana Sahib drew forth a gold cigarette case, lighted a cigarette from afireball that stood in a brass cup, and gazed quizzically at the Dewan. There was a little hush. This story had set Jean Baptiste's nervestingling; there was something behind it. 

The Dewan half guessed what was in the air, but he blinked his big eyessolemnly, and reaching for a small lacquer box took from it a Ran leaf, with a finger smeared some ground lime on it, and wrapping the leafaround a piece of betel-nut popped it into his capacious mouth. 

"These Bagrees are in the protection of Rajas, Karowlee, are they not?"Nana Sahib asked. 

"Yes, Prince; even some of Bhart's relatives are there--one AjeetSingh; he's a celebrated leader of these decoits. "

"And Sindhia took from Karowlee some territory, didn't he?"

"Yes; Karowlee refused to pay the taxes. "

"I should think the Raja would like to have it back. "

"No doubt, Prince. "

Nana Sahib, holding the cigarette to his lips between two fingers gazedmockingly at the large-paunched Brahmin. Then he said; "I see theilluminating light of understanding in your eyes, Dewani--a subtlecomprehension. Small wonder that you are Minister to the delightfulSindhia. If you are making any promises to Karowlee, I should makethem in the name of Sindhia--through Sirdar Baptiste, of course. And, Dewani, this restless cuss, Amir Khan, might make a treaty with theEnglish any time. The dear fish-eyed Resident has been particularlyactive--my spies can hardly keep up with him. I shouldn't lose anytime--Ajeet Singh sounds promising. "

Nana Sahib drew a slim flat gold watch from his pocket. "I now mustleave you two interesting gentlemen, " he said, "for I am to play a fewchuckers of polo with--particularly, Captain Barlow. He is jackal tothe bloodless Resident. I really thought a couple of days ago that hewould have to be sent home on sick leave. One of my officers rode himoff the ball in a fierce drive for goal, and by some devilish mistakethe post hadn't been sawed half-through, so when Barlow crashed into itit stood up. As he lay perfectly still after his cropper it looked asthough Resident Hodson had lost his jackal. But Barlow is one of thosewhip-cord Englishmen that die of old age; he was in the saddle again intwo days. Well, _au revoir_ and salaam. "

When the clattering scurry of Nana Sahib's Arab had died out Baptisteturned to the Dewan, saying:

"Well?"

"I will write the letter to Raja Karowlee, but you must sign it, Sirdar; also furnish a fast riding camel and a trusty officer, " theDewan answered simply. 

"But Nana Sahib was nebulous--we may be made the goat of sacrifice. "

"It is a wisdom, Sirdar; but, also, it is from the Prince an order; andmy office is always one of blame when there are excuses to make--it isalways that way. When a head is required the Dewan's is alwaysoffered. "

CHAPTER III

In answer to the Dewan's request Raja Karowlee sent a force of twohundred Bagrees to Jean Baptiste's camp. Evidently the old Raja hadrun the official comb through his territories, for the decoit force wascomposed of a hundred men from Karowlee, under Ajeet Singh, and ahundred from Alwar, led by Sookdee. 

The two leaders were commanded to obey Sirdar Baptiste implicitly; andBaptiste passed an order that they were to receive a thousand rupees aday for their maintenance. 

In addition there was a fourth officer, Hunsa, who was a jamadar, alieutenant, to Ajeet Singh. And if then and there the ugly head hadbeen cut from his body, the things that happened would not havehappened. 

From the advent of the Bagrees, even on their way from Karowlee, Hunsahad been plotting evil. He was a man who would have shrivelled up, become atrophied, in an atmosphere of decency--he would have died. 

Hunsa caused Sookdee to believe that he should have been the leader andnot Ajeet Singh. 

A document was written out by Dewan Sewlal promising that in the eventof the decoits carrying out the mission they had come upon the estatewould be restored to Raja Karowlee, and that he would be compelled toassign to the three decoit leaders villages within that territory inrent free tenure. The Dewan, with wide precaution, took care that thedocument was so worded that General Baptiste was the official promiser, putting in a clause that he, Sewlal, the Minister, would see that theGeneral carried out these promises on behalf of Sindhia. 

Baptiste set his lips in a sardonic smile when he read and signed thepaper. However, he cared very little; no concern of his whetherKarowlee attained to his lands or not--it would be a matter of the Kingdisposes. Even that the Dewan stood in Baptiste's shadow in the affairwas another something that only caused the Frenchman to remarksardonically:

"Dewani, the English sahibs have a delectable game of cards named pokerin which there is an observance called passing the buck; when a playerwishes to avoid the responsibility of a bet he passes the buck to thenext man. Dewani, you have the subtlety of a good poker player andhave passed the buck to me. "

The Brahmin looked hurt. "Sirdar, " he said, "you are the commander ofmatters of war, which this is. You stand here in the city of tents asSindhia; I am but the man of accounts; it is well as it is. And nowthat we have signed the promise the decoits will also sign, then I willmake them take the oath according to their patron goddess, Bhowanee. They are just without--I will have them in. "

When the three jamadars had been summoned to the Dewan's presence, hesaid: "Here is the paper of promise as to the reward from Sindhia forthe service you are to render. You will also sign here, making yourseal or thumb print; then it will be required that you take the oath ofservice according to your own method and your gods. "

Ajeet consulted a little apart with Sookdee and then coming forwardsaid: "We Bagrees are an ancient people descended from the Rajputs, andwe keep our word to our friends; therefore we will take the oath afterthe manner of Bhowanee, beneath the pipal tree. If Your Honour willgive us but an hour we will take the oath. "

A mile down the red road from the bungalow, looking like a huge beehivewith its heavy enveloping roof of thatch, that was Jean Baptiste'shead-quarters, was a particularly sacred pipal of huge growth. It wasan extraordinary octopus-like tree, and most sacred, for perched in theembrace of its giant arms was a shrine that had been lifted from itsbase in the centuries of the tree's growth. 

And now, an hour later, the pipal was surrounded by thousands ofMahratta sepoys, for word had gone forth, --the mysterious rumour ofIndia that is like a weird static whispering to the four corners of theland a message, --had flashed through the tented city that the men fromKarowlee were to take the oath of allegiance to Sindhia. 

The fat Dewan had come down in a _palki_ swung from the shoulders ofstout bearers, while Jean Baptiste had ridden a silver-grey Arab. 

And then just as a bleating, mottled white-and-black goat was led by athong to the pipal, Nana Sahib came swirling down the road in a brakedrawn by a spanking pair of bay Arabs with black points. Beside himsat the Resident's daughter, Elizabeth Hodson, and in the seat behindwas Captain Barlow. 

At the pipal Nana Sahib reined in the bays sharply, saying, "Hello, General, wanted to see you for a minute--called at the bungalow, andyour servant said you had gone down this way. What's up?" hequestioned after greetings had passed between Baptiste, Barlow andElizabeth Hodson. 

"Just some new recruits, scouts, taking the oath of service, " andBaptiste closed an eye in a caution-giving wink. 

A slight sneer curled the thin lips of Nana Sahib; he understoodperfectly what Baptiste meant by the wink--that the Englishman beingthere, it would be as well to say little about the Bagrees. But thePrince had no very high opinion of Captain Barlow's perceptions, of hisfiner acuteness of mind; the thing would have to be very plainlyexposed for the Captain to discover it. He was a good soldier, CaptainBarlow--that happy mixture of brain and brawn and courage that hadcoloured so much of the world's map red, British; he was the terrierclass--all pluck, with perhaps the pluck in excelsis--the brain-powernot preponderant. 

"Who is the handsome native--he looks like a Rajput?" Elizabeth asked, indicating the man who was evidently the leader among the others. 

"That is Ajeet Singh, chief of these men, " Baptiste answered. 

"He is a handsome animal, " Nana Sahib declared. 

"He is like an Arab Apollo, " Elizabeth commented; and her tonesuggested that it was a whip-cut at the Prince's half-sneer. 

The girl's description of Ajeet was trite. The Chief's face was almostperfect; the golden-bronze tint of the skin set forth in the envelopingbackground of a turban of blue shot with gold-thread draped down tocover a silky black beard that, parted at the chin, swept upward toloop over the ears. The nose was straight and thin; there was apredatory cast to it, perhaps suggested by the bold, black, almostfierce eyes. He was clothed with the full, rich, swaggering adornmentof a Rajput; the splendid deep torso enclosed in a shirt-of-mail, itssteel mesh so fine that it rippled like silver cloth; a red velvetvestment, negligently open, showed in the folds of a silk sash ajewel-hilted knife; a _tulwar_ hung from his left shoulder. As hemoved here and there, there was a sinuous grace, panther-like, as if hestrode on soft pads. At rest his tall figure had the set-up of asoldier. 

As the three in the brake studied the handsome Ajeet, a girl steppedforward and stood contemplating them. 

"By Jove!" the exclamation had been Captain Barlow's; and Elizabeth, with the devilish premonition of an acute woman knew that it was amasculine's involuntary tribute to feminine attractivity. 

She had turned to look at the Captain. 

Nana Sahib, little less vibrant than a woman in his sensitiveorganisation, showed his even, white teeth: "Don't blame you, oldchap, " he said; "she's all that. I fancy that's the girl they callGulab Begum. Am I right, Sirdar?"

"Yes, Prince, " Jean Baptiste answered. "The girl is a relative of thehandsome Ajeet. "

"She's simply stunning!" Captain Barlow said, as it were, meditatively. 

But Nana Sahib, knowing perfectly well what this observation would doto the austere, exact, dominating daughter of a precise man, theResident, muttered to himself: "Colossal ass! an impressionable cussshould have a _purdah_ hung over his soul--or be gagged. "

"One of their _nautch_ girls, I suppose;" Elizabeth thus eased some ofthe irritation over Barlow's admiration in a well-bred sneer. 

"Yes, " Baptiste declared; "it is said she dances wonderfully. "

"You name her the Gulab Begum, General, --that is a Moslem title and, from the turbans and caste-marks on the men, they seem to be Hindus; Isuppose Gulab Begum is her stage name, is it?"

Elizabeth was exhibiting unusual interest in a native--that is forElizabeth, and Nana Sahib chuckled softly as he answered: "Names meanlittle in India; I know high-caste Brahmins who have given theirchildren low-caste names to make them less an object of temptation tothe gods of destruction. Also, the Gulab may have been stolen from theharem of some Nawab by this bandit. "

The Gulab suggested more a Rajput princess than a dancing girl. Noring pierced the thin nostrils of her Grecian nose; neither from herears hung circles of gold or brass, or silver; and the slim ankles thatpeeped from a rich skirt were guiltless of anklets. On the wrist ofone arm was a curious gold bangle that must have held a large ruby, forat times the sun flicked from the moving wrist splashes of red wine. Indeed the whole atmosphere of the girl was simplicity and beauty. 

"No wonder they call her the Rose Queen, " Barlow was communing withhimself. For the oval face with its olive skin, as fair as a Kashmirigirl's, was certainly beautiful. The black hair was smoothed back froma wide low forehead, after the habit of the Mahratti women; the primsimplicity of this seeming to add to the girlish effect. A smallwhite-and-gold turban, even with its jauntiness, seemed just the verything to check the austere simplicity. The girl's eyes, like Ajeet's, were the eyes of some one unafraid, of one born to a caste that feltequality. When they turned to those who sat in the brake they werecalmly meditative; they were the eyes of a child, modest; but with theunabashed confidence of youth. 

Elizabeth, perhaps unreasonably, for the three of them sat so closetogether in the brake, fancied that the Gulab's gaze constantly pickedout the handsome Captain Barlow. 

An imp touched Nana Sahib, and he said: "I'd swear there was Rajputblood in that girl. If I knew of some princess having been stolen I'dsay she stood yonder. The eyes are simply ripping; baby eyes, that, when roused, assist in driving a knife under a man's fifth rib. I'veseen a sambhur doe with just such eyes cut into ribbons a Rampore houndwith her sharp hoofs. "

"Well, Prince, " Elizabeth said, "I suppose you know the women of thisland better than either Captain Barlow or myself, and you're probablyright, for I see in a belt at her waist the jewelled hilt of a dagger. "

Nana Sahib laughed: "My dear Miss Hodson, I never play with edgedtools, and Captain--"

But Nana Sahib's raillery was cut short by a small turmoil as thebleating goat of sacrifice was dragged forward to a stone daubed withvermillion upon which rested a small black alabaster image of Kali;while a _guru_, with sharpened knife, hung near like a falcon over aquivering bird. Three times the goat's head was thrust downward inobeisance to the black goddess; there was a flash of steel in thesunlight, and hot blood gushed forth, to dye with its crimson flood thebase of the idol. 

A Bagree darted forward and with a stroke of his _tulwar_ clipped theneck from a pitcher and held it beneath the gurgling flood till it wasfilled. 

From where Elizabeth sat she looked across the shoulder of Nana Sahibas they watched the sacrifice; she saw him quiver and lean forward, hisshoulders tip as though he would spring from the brake. His face haddrawn into hard lines, his lips were set tight in intensity across theteeth so that they showed between in a thin line of white. The bloodseemed to have fascinated him; he was oblivious of her presence. Sheheard him murmur, "Parvati, Parvati! There is blood, blood--wait, thou, Parvati. "

The bay Arabs--perhaps their sensitive nostrils drank in the smell offresh blood--sprang into their collars as if they would bolt in fright. The two syces, squatting on their heels at the horses' heads, hadsprung to their feet, and now were caressing the necks of the Arabs asthey held them each with a hand by the bit. 

There was a curious look in the Prince's eyes as he turned them onElizabeth; a mingling of questioning and defiance was in them. 

Now the holder of the pitcher stood up and the _guru_ drew upon it fourred lines and dropped through its shattered mouth a woman's bracelet ofgold lacquer beads. Then the pitcher was placed upon the Kali shrine;raw sugar was inclosed in a cloth and tied to a branch of the pipal. 

The voice of the Bagree Chief, somewhat coarse in its fulness, itsindependence, now was heard saying: "Sirdar Sahib, and Dewan Sahib, wemen of the nine castes of the Bagrees now make the sacred oath. Comeclose that ye may observe. "

Jean Baptiste edged his horse to the side of the road, and the Dewan, heaving from the _palki_, stood upright. 

Ajeet dipped a tapering finger in the pitcher of blood, touched theswaying bag of sugar, and laying the hand against his forehead said, ina loud voice:

"If I, Ajeet Singh, break faith with Maharaja Sindhia, may Bhowaneepunish me!"

Sookdee and Hunsa each in turn took the same solemn oath of allegiance. 

As Hunsa turned from the ordeal and passed the Gulab Begum to where theBagrees stood in line, Nana Sahib said, "Do you know, General, whatthat baboon-faced jamadar made oath to?"

"The last one, my Prince?"

"Yes, he of the splendid ugliness. He testified, 'If I fail to thrusta knife between the shoulder-blades of Ajeet Singh may Bhowanee cast meas a sacrifice. '"

"He is jamadar to the other, Prince--but why?"

"He looked upon the Rose Lady as he passed, and as the blooded fingerlay upon his forehead he looked upon Ajeet, and in his pig eyes wasunholiness. "

The cold grey eyes of the Frenchman rested for a second upon theburning black eyes of the speaker, and again he shivered. He knew thatthe careless words meant that Hunsa was an instrument, if needs be. But the Prince's teeth were gleaming in a smile. And he was saying:"If the play is over, Sirdar, turn your mount over to the _syce_ andpop up here beside Captain Barlow--I'll tool you home. The Captainmight like a peg. "

The bay Arabs swirled the brake along the smooth roadway that lay likea wide band of coral between giant green walls of gold-mohr andtamarind; and sometimes a pipal, its white bole and branches gleaminglike the bones of a skeleton through leaves of the deepest emerald, andits roots daubed with the red paint of devotion to the tree god. Hereand there a neem, its delicate branches dusted with tiny white starblossoms, cast a sensuous elusive perfume to the vagrant breeze. Oncea gigantic jamon stretched its gnarled arms across the roadway as if adevilfish held poised his tentacles to snatch from the brake itsoccupants. 

When they had swung in to the Sirdar's bungalow and clambered down fromthe brake, Elizabeth said: "If you don't mind, General Baptiste, I'lljust drift around amongst these beautiful roses while you men have yourpegs. No, I don't care for tea, " she said, in answer to hissuggestion. There was a mirthless smile on her lips as she added: "I'mlike Captain Barlow, I like the rose. "

The three men sat on the verandah while a servant broughtbrandy-and-soda, and Nana Sahib, with a restless perversity akin to thetorturing proclivity of a Hindu was quizzing the Frenchman about hisrecruits. 

"You'll find them no good, " he assured Baptiste--"rebellious cusses, worthless thieves. My Moslem friend, the King of Oudh, tried them out. He got up a regiment of them--Budhuks, Bagrees--all sorts; it was namedthe Wolf Regiment--that was the only clever thing about it, the name. They stripped the uniforms from the backs of the officers sent to drillthem and kicked them out of camp; said the officers put on swank;wouldn't clean their own horses and weapons, same as the other men. "

Then he switched the torture--made it more acute; wanted to know whatSirdar Baptiste had got them for. 

The Frenchman fumed inwardly. Nana Sahib was at the bottom of thewhole murderous scheme, and here, like holding a match over a keg ofpowder, he must talk about it in front of the Englishman. 

When the brandy was brought Nana Sahib put hand over the top of hisglass. 

"Not drinking, Prince?" Barlow asked. 

"No, " Nana Sahib answered, "a Brahmin must diet; holiness is fosteredby a shrivelled skin. "

"But pardon me, Prince, " Barlow said hesitatingly, "didn't going acrossthe black-water to England break your caste anyway--so why cut out thepeg?"

"Yes, Captain Sahib, "--the Prince's voice rasped with a peculiar harshgravity as though it were drawn over the jagged edge of intensefeeling, --"my caste _was_ broken, and to get it back I drank the dregs;a cup of liquid from the cow, and not milk either!"

Baptiste coughed uneasily for he saw in the eyes of Nana Sahibsmouldering passion. 

And Barlow's face was suffused with a sudden flush of embarrassment. 

Perhaps it had been the sight of the blood sacrifice that had startedNana Sahib on a line of bitter thought; had stirred the smothering hatethat was in his soul until frothing bubbles of it mounted to his lips. 

"I was born in the shadow of Parvati, " Nana Sahib said, "and when Icame back from England I found that still I was a Brahmin; that thesongs of the Bhagavad Gita and the philosophy of the Puranas was moreto me than what I had been taught at Oxford. So I took back the caste, and under my shirt is the _junwa_ (sacred thread). "

A quick smile lighted his face, and he laid a hand on Barlow's arm, saying in a new voice, a voice that was as if some one spoke throughhis lips in ventriloquism: "And all this, Captain, is a good thing formy friends the English. The Brahmins, as you know, sway the Mahrattas, and if I am of them they will listen to me. The English boast--andthey have reason to--that they have made a friend of Nana Sahib. Here, Baptiste, pour me a glass of plain soda, and we'll drink a toast toNana Sahib and the English. "

"By Jove! splendid!" and Captain Barlow held out a hand. 

But Baptiste, saying that he would find Miss Hodson, went out into thesunshine cursing. 

"Now we will go back, " Nana Sahib was saying as the French Generalbrought Elizabeth from among the oleanders and crotons. 

CHAPTER IV

The day after the Bagrees had taken the oath of allegiance to Sindhiathe jamadars were summoned to the Dewan's office to receive theirinstructions for the carrying out of the mission. 

In writing the Raja of Karowlee for the decoits, Dewan Sewlal had notstated that the mission was for the purpose of bringing home in a bagthe head of the Pindar Chief. As the wily Hindu had said to SirdarBaptiste: "We will get them here before speaking of this dangerouserrand. Once here, and Karowlee's hopes raised over getting territory, if they then go back without accomplishing the task, that rapacious oldman will cast them into prison. "

So when the Bagree leaders, closeted with Baptiste and the Dewan in aroom of the latter's bungalow, learned what was expected of them they, to put it mildly, received a shock. They had thought that it was to bea decoity of treasure, perhaps of British treasure, and in theirproficient hands such an affair did not run into much danger generally. 

The jamadars drew to one side and discussed the matter; then Ajeetsaid: "Dewan Sahib, what is asked of us should have been in the writtenmessage to our Raja. We be decoits, that is true, it is ourprofession, but the mission that is spoken of is not thus. Hunsa hasridden with Amir Khan upon a foray into Hyderabad, and he knows thatthe Chief is always well guarded, and that to try for his head in themidst of his troops would be like the folly of children. "

The Dewan's fat neck swelled with indignation; his big ox-like eyesbulged from their holding in anger:

"Phut-t-t!" he spat in derision. "Bagrees!" he sneered; "descendantsof Rajputs--bah! Have you brought women with you that will lead thisforce? And danger!" he snarled--he turned on Sookdee: "You areSookdee, son of Bhart, so it was signed. "

"Yes, Dewan, it is true. "

"_You_ are the son of your mother, not Bhart, " the Dewan raved; "he wasa brave man, but _you_ speak of danger--bah!"

The Dewan's teeth, stained red at the edges from the chewing of _pan_, showed in a sneering grin like a hyena's as he added: "Bah! Ye are butthieves who steal from those who are helpless. "

Ajeet spoke: "Dewan Sahib, we be men as brave as Bhart--we are of thesame caste, but there is a difference between such an one as he tookthe head of and a Pindari Chief. The Pindaris are the wild dogs ofHind, they are wolves, and is it easy to trap a wolf?"

But the Dewan had worked himself into a frenzy at their questioning ofthe possibilities; he waved his fat hands in a gesture of dismissalcrying: "Go, go!"

As the jamadars stood hesitatingly, Sewlal swung to the Frenchman:"Sirdar Sahib, make the order that I cease payment of the thousandrupees a day to these rebels, cowards. Go!" and he looked at Ajeet;"talk it over amongst yourselves, and send to me one of your wives thatwill lead a company--lend your women your tulwars. "

Ajeet's black eyes flashed anger, and his brows were drawn into a knotjust above his thin, hawk-like nose; suppressed passion at the Dewan'sdeadly insult was in the even, snarling tone of his voice:

"Dewan Sahib, harsh words are profitless--" his eyes, glittering, werefixed on the bulbous orbs of the man of the quill--"and the talk ofwomen in the affairs of men is not in keeping with caste. If you passthe order that we are not to have rations now that we are far fromhome, what are we to do? Think you that Raja Karowlee--"

"Do! do! if you serve not Sindhia what care I what you do. Go back toyour honourable trade of thieving. And as to Raja Karowlee, a man whokeeps a colony of cowards--what care I for him. Go, go!"

The jamadars with glowering eyes turned from the Dewan, even the harshsalaam they uttered in going sounded like a curse. 

And when they had gone, Baptiste was startled by a gurgling laughbubbling up from the Dewan's fat throat. 

"Sirdar, " he chuckled, "I've given that posing Rajput a poem to committo memory. Ha-ha! They have two strong reasons now for going--theirshame and lean stomachs. "

"They won't go, " Baptiste declared. "When a man is afraid of anythinghe can find a thousand reasons for not making the endeavour. IfSindhia will give me the troops I will make an end of Amir Khan. "

"And make enemies of the Pindaris: that we do not want; we want them tofight with us, not against us. The great struggle is about to takeplace; Holkar and Bhonsla and Sindhia, perhaps even the King of Oudh, leagued together, the accursed English will be driven from India. Buteven now they are trying to win over Amir Khan and his hundred thousandhorsemen by promises of territory and gold. With the Chief out of theway they would disband; he is a great leader, and they flock to hisflag. You saw the Englishman, Captain Barlow?"

"Yes, Dewani. Good soldier, I should say. "

"Well, Sirdar, we think that he waits here to undertake some mission toAmir Khan. You see, no office can be conducted without clerks, andsometimes clerks talk. "

The Frenchman twisted nervously at his slim grey moustache. "Icomprehend, Dewani, " he said presently; "it is expedient that Amir Khanbe eliminated. "

"It would be a merciful thing, " Sewlal added--"it would save bloodshed. "

"Well, Dewani, I must depart now. It will be interesting to see whatyour Bagrees do, especially when they become hungry. "

CHAPTER V

For two days the Bagrees sat nursing their wrath at the reproaches ofDewan Sewlal. 

And the Dewan, in spite of his bold denunciation of the decoits, wasuneasy. If they went back to Karowlee with a story of ill treatment, of broken promises, that hot-headed old Rajput would turn againstSindhia. And the present policy of the Mahratta Confederacy was tosecure allies in the revolt against the British which was beingsecretly planned. The Dewan was also afraid of Nana Sahib. He saw inthat young man a coming force. The Peshwa was actually the ruler ofMahrattaland; he had a commanding influence because he was the head ofthe Brahmins--the Brahmins were the real power--and his adopted son, his inborn subtle nature developed by his residence in England, now hadgreat influence over him. The Dewan knew that; and if he failed tocarry out this mission of removing the dangerous one from Nana Sahib'spath it might cost him his place as Minister. 

In his perplexity the Dewan asked Baptiste to formulate some excuse forgetting Nana Sahib up to Chunda--some matter affecting the troops, sothat he might casually get a sustaining suggestion from the wily Prince. 

It so happened that when Nana Sahib swung up the gravelled drive to theSirdar's bungalow on a golden chestnut Arab, Sewlal was there. Butwhen, presently, Baptiste's _durwan_ came in to say that Jamadar Hunsaof the new troops was sending his salaams to the Dewan, the lattergasped. He would have told the Bagree to wait, but Nana Sahib, catching the name Hunsa, commanded:

"By all means, my dear Baptiste, have that living embodiment of murderin. His face is a delight. You know"--and he smiled at theGeneral--"that that frightfulness of expression is the very reason whythe genial Kali has such a hold upon our people. You've seen her, Baptiste; four arms, one holding a platter to catch the blood thatdrips from a head she suspends above it by another arm; the third handclasps a sword, and the fourth has the palm spread out as much as tosay, 'That is what will happen to you. '"

The Frenchman shivered. He was snapping a finger and thumb in mentaltorture. 

But Nana Sahib chuckled: "Her tongue protrudes thirsting for moreblood--"

But the Sirdar protested: "Prince--pardon, but--"

"My dear Baptiste, when the Hunsa comes in observe if these things arenot all stamped by Brahm on his frontispiece; he fascinates me. "

The Dewan, devout Brahmin, had been running his fingers along a stringof lacquered beads that hung about his neck, muttering a prayer againstthis that was like sacrilege. 

When the jamadar was shown into the room his face took on a look ofuneasiness. It but added to the ferocity of the square scowlingmassive head. His huge shoulders, stooped forward as he salaamed, suggested the half-crouch of a tiger--even the eyes, the mouth, inducedthoughts of that jungle killer. 

Nana Sahib, a sneer on his lips, turned to the Minister: "Play him, Dewani, as you love us. There is some rare deviltry afloat. "

"Why have you come, Jamadar?" the Dewan asked. 

Hunsa's pig eyes shifted from Sewlal's face to roam over the other two, and then returned a question in them. 

"Tell him, " Nana Sahib suggested, "that he has nothing to fear from us. "

The jamadar was troubled by the English exchange, but the Dewanexplained: "The Prince says you are to speak what is on your mind. "

"It is this, Sahib Bahadur, " Hunsa began, "there is a way that the headof Amir Khan might be obtained as a gift for Maharaja Sindhia. ThenRaja Karowlee would be pleased for he would receive his commission andwe would be given a reward. "

"What is the way?" Sewlal queried. 

"The Chief of the Pindaris, after the habit of Moslems, is one whoseheart softens toward a woman who is beautiful and is pleasing to hiseye. "

"Ancient history, " Nana Sahib commented in English, "and not confinedto Musselmen. "

"Speak on, " the Dewan commanded curtly. 

"When I rode with Amir Khan, " Hunsa resumed, "in loot there fell to theChief's share a dancing girl, and Amir Khan, perhaps out of respect tohis two wives, would visit her at night quietly in the tent that wasgiven her as a place of residing. "

"Amir Khan seems to be less a Pindari and more a human than I thoughthim, " Nana Sahib commented drily. 

"The world is a very small place, Prince, " Baptiste added. 

"But why has Hunsa brought this tale to men of affairs?" Sewlal queried. 

Hunsa cast a furtive look over his shoulder toward the verandah, andhis coarse voice dropped a full octave. "The Presence has observedBootea, the one called Gulab Begum, who is with Ajeet Singh?"

"Ah-ha!" It was Nana Sahib's exclamation. 

"Yes, " the Dewan answered drily. 

"If a party of Bagrees were to go to the Pindari camp disguised asplayers and wrestlers, and the Gulab as a _nautchni_, Amir Khan mightbe enticed to her tent for she causes men to become drunk when shedances. Once she danced for Raja Karowlee, and, though he is old andfat and has more of wives than other possessions he became covetous ofthe girl. It is because of these things, that Ajeet keeps her withinthe length of his eye. Thus the Gulab would hold Amir Khan in herhand, and some night as he slept in her tent I would crawl neath thecanvas and accomplish that which is desired. "

"By Jove!" Nana Sahib exclaimed, "this jungle man has got the rightidea. But if Ajeet goes on that trip he'll never come back--Hunsa willsee to that. "

Then the son of the Peshwa took a quick turn to the door and gazed outas if he had his Arab in mind--something wrong; but a sweet bit ofdeviltry had suddenly occurred to him. He had noticed the youngEnglishman's interest in Bootea; had known that the girl's eyes hadshown admiration for the handsome sahib. A woman--by Jove! yes. If hecould bring the two of them together; have the Gulab get Barlowsensually interested she might act as a spy, get Barlow to talk. Noinstrument like a woman for that purpose. Nana Sahib turned back towhere the Dewan had been questioning Hunsa. 

"That description of the Gulab as a _nautch_ girl tickles my fancy, Dewani, " he said. "Between ourselves I think the Resident's jackal, the impressionable young Captain, was rather taken with her. I'mgiving a _nautch_ this week, and the presence of Miss Gulab isdesired--commanded. "

"But Ajeet--"

Nana Sahib smiled sardonically. "You and Hunsa are planning to sendher on a more difficult mission, so I have no doubt that this can beaccomplished. The Ajeet should esteem it an honour. "

The Dewan, also speaking in English, said, "I doubt if Ajeet wouldconsent to the girl's going to the Pindari camp. "

Nana Sahib swung on his heel to face Baptiste. "Sirdar, when you givean order to a soldier and he refuses to obey, what do you do?"

"Pouf, _mon_ Prince, " and Jean Baptiste snapped a thumb and fingerexpressively. 

"See, Dewani?" Nana Sahib queried; "I like Hunsa's idea; and you'veheard what the Commandant says. "

The Dewan turned to the Bagree, "Will Ajeet consent to the Gulab actingthus?"

Hunsa's answer was illuminating: "The Chief will agree to it if hecan't help himself. "

There was a lull, each one turning this momentous thing over in hismind. 

It was the jamadar who broke the silence; somewhat at a tangent hesaid: "As to a decoity, Your Honour said that we being of thatprofession should undertake one. "

The Dewan roared; the burden of his expostulation was the word liar. 

But Nana Sahib laughed tolerantly. "Don't mind me, Dewani; fancy allthe petty rajas and officials stand in with these decoits for a shareof the loot--I don't blame you, old chap. "

Hunsa, taking the accusation of being a liar as a pure matter ofcourse, ignored it, and now was drooling along, wedded to the one bigidea that was in his mind:

"If a decoity were made perhaps it might even happen that one waskilled--"

"Lovely! the 'One' will be, and his name is Ajeet, " Nana Sahib criedgleefully. 

But Hunsa plodded steadily on. "In that case Ajeet as Chief would bein the hands of the Dewan; then it could be mentioned to him that theGulab was desired for this mission. "

"That might be, " the Dewan said quietly. "I will demand that Ajeettakes the Gulab to help secure Amir Khan and if he refuses I will givethem no rations so that he will go on the decoity. "

"No, Dewan Sahib, " Hunsa objected; "say nothing of the Gulab, becauseAjeet will refuse, and then he will not go on a decoity, fearing atrap. If you will refuse the rations now, I will say that you havepromised that we will not be taken up if we make a decoity; then Ajeetwill agree, because it is our profession. "

"I must go, " Nana Sahib declared; "this Hunsa seems to have brains aswell as ferocity. " He continued in English: "If you do go through withthis, Dewan, tell Hunsa if anything happens when they make thedecoity--and if I'm any reader of what is in a man's heart, I thinksomething will happen the Ajeet--tell Hunsa to bring the Gulab to me. I like his idea, and we can't afford to let the girl get away. Don'tforget to arrange for the Gulab at my _nautch_. "

When Nana Sahib had gone Baptiste diplomatically withdrew, saying inEnglish to the Minister: "Dewan Sahib, possibly this simple child ofthe jungle would feel embarrassment in opening his heart fully before asahib, so you will excuse me. "

This elimination of individuals gave the Dewan a fine opportunity;promises made without witnesses were sure to be of a richer texture;also surely the word of a Dewan was of higher value than the word of adecoit if, at a future time, their evidences clashed. 

Then Hunsa was entrusted with a private matter that filled his uglysoul with delight. He assured Sewlal Sookdee, if he were promised, ashe had been, full protection, would join in the enmeshing of AjeetSingh. 

Sewlal pledged his word to the jamadar that no matter if an outcry wereraised over a decoity they would be protected--the matter would behushed up. 

Hunsa knew that this was no new thing; he had been engaged in many adecoity where men of authority had a share of the loot, and hadeffectually side-tracked investigation. In fact decoits always livedin the protection of some petty raja; they were an adjunct to thestate, a source of revenue. 

The Dewan had intimated that Hunsa and his men were to wait until amessenger brought them word where and when to make the decoity. Alsoif he betrayed them, failed to keep his compact with them, it wouldcause him the loss of his ugly head. 

The jamadar quite believed this; it would be an easy matter, surroundedas they were by Mahratta troops. 

So then for the next few days Hunsa and Sookdee cautiously developed aspirit of desire for action amongst the decoits, and a feeling ofresentment against Ajeet who was opposed to engaging in a punishablecrime so far from their refuge. 

The Dewan sent for Ajeet and explained to him, as if it were a verygreat honour, that Nana Sahib, having heard of Bootea's wonderfulgrace, had asked her to appear at a _nautch_ he was giving to theSahibs and Hindu princes at his palace. No doubt Bootea would receivea handsome present for this, also it would incline the heart of thePrince to the Bagrees. 

Ajeet was suspicious, but to refuse permission he knew would anger theDewan; and he was in the Minister's hands. His position was none toosecure; there was treachery in his own camp. He asked for a day toconsult Bootea over the matter; in reality he wanted to consider itmore fully before giving an answer. 

Of course Hunsa knew about it, and he told Sookdee; and when the mattercame up in camp they professed indignation at Ajeet's stupidity in notappreciating the honour; dancers were only too glad to appear beforesuch people as the Prince and the Resident at a palace dance, theyexplained. 

Of course the matter of Bootea's mission to the Pindari Chief had notbeen conveyed to Ajeet as yet; and Hunsa felt that this affair of the_nautch_ was a propitious thing--an inserting of the thin edge of thewedge. 

Somewhat grudgingly Ajeet consented, for Bootea, strangely enough, wasquite eager over it. As Nana Sahib had fancied the girl had taken anunexplainable liking for Captain Barlow. Of course that, the call, israrely explainable on reasonable grounds--it is a matter of a higherdispensation; just two pairs of eyes settle the whole business; onelook and the thing is done. 

The Sahib would see her in a new light--in an appealing light. In herthoughts there was nothing of a serious intent; just that to look uponhim, perhaps to see in his eyes a friendly pleasure, would beintoxication. 

So Ajeet took her to the palace to dance, but, of course, he had tocool his heels without the _durbar_ chamber--smoke the hooka and chatwith other natives while the one of desire was within. 

The girl had an exquisite sense of the beauty of simplicity--both indress and manner, and in her art; it was as if a lotus flower had beenanimated--given life. Her dancing was a floaty rhythm, an undulatingdrifting to the soft call of the _sitar_; and her voice, when she sangthe _ghazal_, the love-song, was soft, holding the compelling power ofsubdued passion--it thrilled Barlow with an emotion that, when she hadfinished, caused him to take himself to task. It was as if he hadsaid, "By Jove! fancy I've had a bit too much of that champagne--betterlook out. "

Nana Sahib and the Captain were sitting side by side, and the Gulab, when she had finished the song, had swept her sinuous lithe form backin a graceful curtsy in front of the two, and, as if by accident, a redrose had floated to the feet of Captain Barlow. Surely her soft, dark, languorous eyes had said: "For thee. "

With a cynical smile Nana Sahib picked up the rose and presented it toBarlow saying: "My dear Captain, you receive the golden apple--beautywill out. "

Barlow's fingers trembled with suppressed emotion as he took the flowerand carefully slipped it into a buttonhole. 

Elizabeth, who sat next him, saw this by-play, and her voice was coldas she commented: "Homage is a delightful thing, but it spoilschildren. "

Nana Sahib leaned across Barlow: "My dear Miss Hodson, these dancersalways play to the gods--it is their trade. But there is safety incaste--in _varna_, which is the old Brahmin name for caste, meaningcolour. When the Aryans came down into Hind they were olive-skinnedand the aborigines here were quite black, so, to draw the line, theycreated caste and called it _varna_, meaning that they of the lightskin were of a higher order than the aborigines--which they were. Awhite skin is like a shirt-of-mail, it protects morally, socially, inIndia. "

"Ultimately, no doubt, Prince. And, of course, a dance-girl is one ofthe fourth caste, practically an outcast--an 'untouchable, '" Elizabethcommented. 

Barlow knew this as a devilish arraignment of himself, for he had felta strong attraction. He said nothing; but he was aware of a feeling ofrepulsion toward Elizabeth; her harshness, on so slight a provocation, suggested vindictiveness--a narrow exaction. 

Nana Sahib was filled with delight--his evil soul revelled in thisdiscord. Then and there, if he could have managed it, he would havesuggested to the Captain that he would arrange for the Gulab to meethim--might even have her sent to his bungalow. But he had the waitingsubtlety of a tiger that crouches by a pool for hours waiting for akill; so, somewhat reluctantly, he let the opportunity pass. While heconsidered Barlow to be an Englishman possessed of rather slowperception, he knew that the Captain had a quixotic sense of honour, and possibly such a proposal might destroy his influence. 

And Bootea went back to the camp with Ajeet, suffused to silence by thestrange thing that had happened, the strange infatuation--for it wasthat--that had so suddenly filled her heart for the handsome sahibwhose soft, brave eyes had looked through hers into her very soul. 

CHAPTER VI

Nana Sahib had assumed a gracious manner toward Ajeet Singh when Booteahad been brought to the _nautch_. He had bestowed a handsome gift uponthe Chief, ten gold _mohrs_; and for Bootea there had been the gift ofa ruby, also ten gold _mohrs_. 

This munificence, --for Hunsa and Sookdee declared it to be a rareextravagance, --was not so much as reward for Bootea's _nautch_ as adesire on the part of the astute Prince to prepare for the greaterservice required. 

The Dewan also was very gracious to Ajeet over his compliance; but, atthe same time, declared that an order had been passed by Baptiste thatif the Bagrees would not obey the command to go after Amir Khan hewould not pay them a thousand rupees a day out of the treasury. He putall this very affably; raised his two fat hands toward heaven declaringthat he was helpless in the matter--Baptiste was the commander, and hewas but a dewan. With a curious furtive look in his ox-eyes he advisedAjeet to consult with Hunsa over a method of obtaining money for thedecoits. He would not commit himself as to making a decoity, for whenthey had seized upon the Chief for the crime Ajeet could not then saythat the Dewan had instigated it; there would be only Hunsa's word forthis, and, of course, he would deny that the Minister was the father ofthe scheme. 

And in the camp Hunsa and Sookdee were clamouring at Ajeet to undertakea decoity for they were all in need, and to be idle was not their wayof life. 

Hunsa went the length of telling Ajeet that the Dewan would even sendthem word where a decoity of much loot could be made and in a safe way, too, for the Dewan would take care that neither sepoys nor police wouldbe in the way. 

And then one day there came to the Bagree camp a mysterious message. Ayogi, his hair matted with filth till it stood twisted and writhed onhis head like the serpent tresses of Medusa, his lean skeletonash-daubed body clothed in yellow, on his forehead the crescent ofEklinga, in his hand a pair of clanking iron tongs, crawled wearily tothe tents where were the decoits, and bleared out of blood-shot blobsof faded brown at Ajeet Singh. 

He had a message for the Chief from the god Bhyroo who galloped atnight on a black horse, and the message had to do with the decoits, forif they were successful they could make offering to the priests at thetemple of Bhowanee, for in her service decoity was an honourableoccupation and of great antiquity. 

Hunsa and Sookdee had come to sit on their heels, and as they listenedthey knew that the wily old Dewan had sent the _yogi_ so that it couldnot be said that he, the Minister, had told them this thing. 

A rich jewel merchant of Delhi was then at Poona on his way to theNizam's court. He had a wealth of jewels--pearls the size of a bird'segg, emeralds the size of a betel nut, and diamonds that were likestars. This was true for the merchant had paid the duty as he passedthe border into Mahrattaland. 

Ajeet gave the yogi two rupees for food, though, viewing the animatedskeleton, it seemed a touch of irony. 

Then the jamadars considered the message so deeply wrapped inmysticism. Hunsa unhesitatingly declared that the yogi was a messengerfrom the Dewan, and if they did not take advantage of it they wouldperhaps have to fare forth on lean stomachs and in disgrace--perhapswould be beaten by the Mahratta sepoys--undoubtedly they would. 

Sookdee backed up the jamadar. 

"Very well, " declared Ajeet, "we will go on this mission. But rememberthis, Hunsa, that if there is treachery, if we are cast into the handsof the Dewan, I swear by Bhowanee that I will have your life. "

"Treachery!" It was the snarl of an enraged animal, and Hunsa sprangto his feet. He whirled, and facing Sookdee, said: "Let Bhowaneedecide who is traitor--let Ajeet and me take the ordeal. "

"That is but fair, " Sookdee declared. "The ordeal of the heated cannonball will surely burn the hand of the traitor if there is one, " and helooked at Ajeet; and though suspicious that this was still anothertrap, Ajeet without cowardice could not decline. 

"I will take the ordeal, " he declared. 

"We will take the ordeal to-night, " Hunsa said; "and we should preparewith haste the method of the decoity, for the merchant may pass, and wemust take the road in a proper disguise. There is the village to bedecided upon where he will rest in his journey, and many things. "

Even Ajeet was forced to acquiesce in this. 

Boastfully Hunsa declared: "The ordeal will prove that I am thinkingonly of our success. This method of livelihood has been our professionfor generations, and yet when we are in the protection of the powerfulDewan Ajeet says I am a traitor to our salt. "

For an hour they discussed the best manner of sallying forth in a waythat would leave them unsuspected of robbing. One of their favouritemethods was adopted; to go in a party of twenty or thirty as mendicantsand bearers of the bones of relatives to the waters of the sacredGanges. No doubt the yogi would accompany them as their priest, especially if well paid for the service. 

The plot was elaborated on, or rather adapted from past expeditions. Ajeet would be represented as a petty raja, with his retinue ofservants and his guard. The Gulab Begum would be convincing as aprincess, the wife of the raja. The wife of Sookdee could be alady-in-waiting. 

As a respectable strong party of holy men, and a prince, they wouldgain the confidence of the merchant, even of the _patil_ of the villagewhere he would rest for a night. 

They would send spies into Poona to obtain knowledge of the jewelmerchant's movements. The spies, two men who were happy in the art ofingratiating themselves into the good graces of prospective victims, would attach themselves to the merchant's party, and at night slip awayand join the robber band so that they might judge where he would campnext night; at some village that would be a day's march. 

When questioned, the _yogi_ told them where they would find themerchant; he was stopping with a friend in Poona. So the two set off, and the Bagrees prepared for their journey. 

For the ordeal a cannon ball was needed and a blacksmith to heat it. And as Hunsa had been the father of the scheme, Sookdee declared thathe must procure these from the Mahratta camp. 

Hunsa agreed to this. 

The Bagrees were encamped to one side of the Mahratta troops in a smalljungle of _dhak_ and slim-growing bamboos that afforded them privacy. 

In negotiating for the loan of a blacksmith Hunsa had impressed upon asergeant his sincerity by the gift of two rupees; and two rupees moreto the blacksmith made it certain that the heating of the cannon ballwould not make the test unfair to Hunsa. 

A peacock perched high in the feathery top of a giant _sal_ tree wascrying "miaow, miaow!" to the dipping sun when, in the centre of theBagree camp the blacksmith, sitting on his haunches in front of acharcoal fire in which nested the iron cannon ball, fanned the flameswith his pair of goat-skin hand-bellows. 

Lots were cast as to which of the two would take the ordeal first, andit fell to Ajeet. First seven paces were marked off, and Ajeet wastold that he must not run, but take the seven steps as in a walk, carrying the hot iron on a pipal leaf on his palm. 

"This food of the cannon is now hot, " the blacksmith declared, droppinghis bellows and grasping a pair of iron tongs. 

As Sookdee placed a broad pipal leaf upon the jamadar's palm, Ajeetrepeated in a firm voice: "I take the ordeal. If I am guilty, MahaKali, may the sign of thy judgment appear upon my flesh!"

"We are ready, " Sookdee declared, and the waiting blacksmith swung theinstrument of justice from its heat in the glowing charcoal to theoutstretched hand of the jamadar. 

Hunsa's hungry eyes glowed in pleased viciousness, for the blacksmithhad indeed heated the metal; the green pipal leaf squirmed beneath itsheat like a worm, as Ajeet Singh, with the military stride of asoldier, took the seven paces. 

Then dropping the thing of torture he extended his slim small hand toSookdee for inspection. 

Hunsa's villainy had worked out. A white rime, like a hoar frost, fretting the deep red of the scorched skin, that was as delicate asthat on a woman's palm. 

Sookdee muttered a pitying cry, and Hunsa declared boastfully: "Whenmen have evil in their hearts it is known to Bhowanee; behold her sign!"

But Ajeet laughed, saying: "Let Hunsa have the iron; he, too, will knowof its heat. "

"Put it again in the fire, " declared Sookdee, "for it is an ordeal inwhich only the guilty is punished; but the ball must be of the sameheat. "

And once more the shot was returned to the charcoal. 

Gulab Begum pushed her way rapidly to where the jamadars stood; butSookdee objected, saying: "When men appeal to Bhowanee it is not properthat women should be of the ceremony; it will indeed anger our mothergoddess. "

"Thou art a fool, Sookdee, " Bootea declared. "The hand of your chiefis in pain though he shows it not in his face. Shall a brave mansuffer because you are without feeling!"

She turned to the Chief. "Here I have cocoanut oil and a bandage ofsoft muslin. Hold to me your hand, Ajeet. "

"It is not needed, Gulab, star-flower, " the Chief declared proudly. 

The Gulab had poured from a ram's horn cool soothing cocoanut oil uponthe burns, and then she wrapped about the hand a bandage of shimmeringmuslin, bound in a wide strip of silk-like plantain leaf, saying: "Thiswill keep the oil cool to your wound, Chief; it will not let it dry outto increase the heat. "

There was another band of muslin passed around the leaf, and as theGulab turned away, she said: "Think you, Sookdee, that Bhowanee will beoffended because of mercy. Some day, Jamadar, fire will be put uponyour face, when the head has been lopped from your body, to hide thefeatures of a decoit that it may not bear witness against the tribe. "

"You have delayed the ordeal, " Sookdee answered surlily, "and becauseof that Bhowanee will have anger. "

The blacksmith, though pumping with both hands at his pair of bellows, had felt the impress of the two silver coins in his loin cloth, and, true to the bribe from Hunsa, had adroitly doctored his fire by dustingsand here and there so that the shot had lost, instead of gained heat. Now he cried out: "This kabob of the cannon is cooked, and my arms aretired whilst you have talked. "

Rising he seized his tongs asking, "Who now will have it placed uponhis palm?"

"Put it here, " Sookdee said, as he laid a pipal leaf of twice thethickness he had given Ajeet upon the palm of Hunsa. 

Then Hunsa, having repeated the appeal to Bhowanee, strode toward thegoal, and reaching it, cast the iron shot to the ground, holding up hishand in triumph. His was the hand of a gorilla, thick skinned, roughand hard like that of a workman, and now it showed no sign of a burning. 

"What say you, Ajeet Singh?" Sookdee asked. 

"As to the ordeal, " the Chief answered, "according to our faithBhowanee has spoken. But know you this, though the scar is in my palm, in my heart is no treachery. As to Hunsa, the ordeal has cleared himin your minds, and perhaps it is true. We will go forth to the decoityand what is to be will be. We are but servants of Bhowanee, and if wemake vow to sacrifice a buffalo at her temple perhaps she will keep usin her protection. "

Ajeet knew that he had been tricked somehow, but to dispute the ordeal, the judgment of the black goddess, would be like an apostacy--it wouldturn every Bagree against him--it would be a shatterment of theirtenets. So he said nothing but accepted mutely the decree. 

But Bootea's sharp eyes had been busy. She had watched the blacksmith, to whom Ajeet had paid little attention. In the faces of Hunsa andSookdee she had caught flitting expressions of treachery. She knewthat Ajeet had been guiltless of treason to the others, for she hadbeen close to him. Besides she had, when roused, an imperious temper. The Bagree women were allowed greater freedom than other women ofHindustan, even greater freedom than the Mahratta females who, thoughthey appeared in public unveiled, in the homes were treated aschildren, almost as slaves. The Bagree women at times even led gangsof decoits. Her anger had been roused by Sookdee earlier, and nowrising from where she sat, she strode imperiously forward till shefaced the jamadars:

"Your Chief is too proud to deny this trick that you, Sookdee andHunsa, and that accursed labourer of another caste, the blacksmith, that shoer of Mahratta horses whom Hunsa has bribed, have put upon himin the name of Bhowanee. "

Sookdee stared in affrighted silence, and Hunsa's bellow of rage wasstilled by Ajeet, who whirling upon him, the jade-handled knife in hisgrip, commanded: "Still your clamour! The Gulab has but seen thetruth. I, also, know that, but a soldier may not speak as may one ofhis women-kind. "

There was a sudden hush. A tremor of apprehension had vibrated fromBagree to Bagree; the jamadars felt it. A spark, one lunge with aknife, and they would be at each other's throats; the men of Alwaragainst the men of Karowlee; even caste against caste, for the Bagreesfrom Alwar were of the Solunkee caste, while the Karowlee men were ofKolee caste. 

And there the slim girl form of Bootea stood outlined, a delicate bitof statuary, like something of marble that had come from the hand ofPraxiteles, the white muslin sari in its gentle clinging folds showingagainst the now darkening wall of bamboo jungle. There was somethingabout the Gulab, magnetic, omnipotent, that subdued men, that enslavedthem; an indescribable subtlety of gentle strength, like thebronze-blue temper in steel. And her eyes--no one can describe thecompelling eyes of the world, the awful eyes that in their fiercemagnetism act on a man like _bhang_ on a Ghazi or, like the eyes ofChrist, smother him in love and goodness. The _karait_ of India has adull red eye without pupil, of which it is the belief that if a mangaze into it for a time he will go mad. To say that Bootea's eyes werebeautiful was to say nothing, and to describe their compelling forcewas impossible. 

So as they rested on the sullen eyes of Sookdee he quivered; and theothers stood in silence as Ajeet took Bootea by the arm saying, "Come, my lotus flower, " led her to the tent. 

There the jamadar put his sinewy arms about the slender girl, and benthis handsome face to implant a kiss on her red lips, but she thrust hisarms from her and drew back saying, "No, Ajeet!"

"Why, lotus--why, Gulab? Often from thy lips I have heard that thereis no love in thy heart for any man even for me, but is it not a lie, the curious lie of a woman who resents a master?"

Ajeet in a mingling of awe and anger had dropped into the formal "thou"pronoun instead of the familiar "you. "

"No, Ajeet, it is the truth; I do not tell lies. "

"But out there thou denounced those sons of depraved parents in defenceof Ajeet; thou bound up his hand as a mother dresses the wounds of achild in her love--even mocked Bhowanee and the ordeal; then sayestthou there is no love in thy heart for Ajeet. "

"There is not; just the tie such as is between us, that is all. Inever learned love--I was but a pawn, a prize. Seest that, Ajeet?" andBootea laid a finger upon the iron bracelet on her arm--the badge of awidow. 

Ajeet Singh sneered: "A metal lie, a--"

"Stop!" The girl's voice was almost a scream of expostulation. "Tospeak of that means death, thou fool. And thou hast sworn--"

Ajeet's face had blanched. Then a surge of anger re-flushed it. 

"Gulab, " he said presently, "take care that the love thou say'st isdead--but which is not, for it never dies in the heart of a woman, itis but a smouldering fire--take care that it springs not into flame atthe words of some other man, the touch of his hands, or the light ofhis eyes, because then, by Bhowanee, I will kill thee. "

The Gulab stamped a foot upon the earth floor of the tent: "Coward! nowI hate thee! Only the weak, the cowards, threaten women. When thouart brave and strong I do not hate if I do not love. 'Tis thou, Ajeet, who art to take care. "

Outside Guru Lal was casting holy oil upon the troubled waters of adisputed ordeal. The wily old priest knew well how omens and ordealscould be manipulated. Besides, unity among the Bagree leaders, leadingto much loot, would bring him tribute for the gods. 

"It may be, " he was saying to Sookdee, "that the blacksmith, who is notof our tribe, nor of our nine castes, but is of the Sumar caste, hassought to put shame upon our gods by a trick. At best he was a surlyrascal of little thought. It may be that the iron shot was made toohot for the hand of the Chief. An ordeal is a fair test when itsobservance is equal between men; it is then that the goddess judges andgives the verdict--her way is always just. Have not we many times readwrongly her omens, and have misjudged the signs, and have suffered. And Ajeet acted like one who is not guilty. "

"And think you, Guru, that Ajeet will give you a present of rupees forthis talk that is like the braying of an ass?" Hunsa growled. 

But Sookdee objected, saying: "Guru Lal is a holy man of age, and hisblood runs without heat, therefore if he speaks, the words are not amatter for passion, but to be considered. We will go upon a decoity, which is our duty, and leave the ordeal and all else in the hands ofBhowanee. "

CHAPTER VII

Perhaps it was the customs official that told Dewan Sewlal about the_Akbar Ka Diwa_, the Lamp of Akbar, the ruby that was so called becauseof its gorgeous blood-red fire, as being in the iron box of themerchant. 

This ruby had been an eye in one of the two gorgeous jewelled peacocksthat surmounted the "Peacock Throne" at Delhi in the time of Akbar tothe time when the Persian conqueror, Nadir Shah, sacked Delhi and tookthe Peacock Throne and the Kohinoor, and everything else of value backto Persia. But he didn't get the ruby for the Vizier of the King ofDelhi stole it. Then Alam, the eunuch, stole it from the Vizier. Itspossession was desirable, not only because of its great value as ajewel, but because it held in its satanic glitter an unearthly power, either of preservation to its holder or malignant evil against hisenemies. 

At any rate Sewlal sent for Hunsa the night of the ordeal and explainedto him, somewhat casually, that a jewel merchant passing throughMahrattaland had in his collection a ruby of no great value, but astone that he would like to become possessed of because a ruby was hislucky gem. The Dewan intimated that Hunsa would get a nice privatereward for this particular gem, if by chance he could, quite secretly, procure it for him. 

Next day was a busy one in the Bagree camp. 

Having followed the profession of decoits and thugs for generations itwas with them a fine art; unlimited pains were taken over every detail. As it had been decided that they would go as a party of mendicants andbearers of family bones to Mother Ganges, there were many things toprovide to carry out the masquerade--stage properties, as it were; redbags for the bones of females, and white bags for those of the males. 

In two days one of the spies came with word that Ragganath, themerchant, had started on his journey, riding in a covered cart drawn bytwo of the slim, silk-skinned trotting bullocks, and was accompanied bysix men, servants and guards; on the second night he would encamp atSarorra. So a start was made the next morning. 

Sookdee, Ajeet Singh, and Hunsa, accompanied by twenty men, and GulabBegum took the road, the Gulab travelling in an enclosed cart asbefitted the favourite of a raja, and with her rode the wife of Sookdeeas her maid. 

Ajeet rode a Marwari stallion, a black, roach-crested brute, with badhocks and an evil eye. The Ajeet sat his horse a convincing figure, aRajput Raja. 

Beneath a rich purple coat gleamed, like silver tracery, his steelshirt-of-mail; through his sash of red silk was thrust astraight-bladed sword, and from the top of his turban ofblue-and-gold-thread, peeped a red cap with dangling tassel of gold. 

In the afternoon of the second day the Bagrees came to the village ofSarorra. 

"We will camp here, " the leader commanded, "close to the mango _tope_through which we have just passed, then we will summon the headman, andif he is as such accursed officials are, the holy one, the yogi, willcast upon him and his people a curse; also I will threaten him with theloss of his ears. "

"The one who is to be destroyed has not yet come, " Hunsa declared, "forhere is what these dogs of villagers call a place of rest though it isbut an open field. "

Ajeet turned upon the jamadar: "The one who is to be destroyed, sayyou, Hunsa? Who spoke in council that the merchant was to be killed?We are men of decoity, we rob these fat pirates who rob the poor, butwe take life only when it is necessary to save our own. "

"And when a robbed one who has power, such as rich merchants have, makecomplaint and give names, the powers take from us our profit and castus into jail, " Hunsa retorted. 

"And forget not, Ajeet, that we are here among the Mahrattas far fromour own forests that we can escape into if there is outcry, " Sookdeeinterjected. "If the voices are hushed and the bodies buried beneathwhere we cook our food, there will be only silence till we are safeback in Karowlee. The Dewan will not protect us if there is anoutcry--he will deny that he has promised protection. "

The Bagrees were already busy preparing the camp, the camp of asupposed party of men on a sacred mission. 

It was like the locating of a circus. The tents they had brought stoodgaudily in the hot sun, some white and some of cotton cloth dyed inbrilliant colours, red, and blue, and yellow. In front of Ajeet's tenta bamboo pole was planted, from the top of which floated a red flagcarrying a figure of the monkey god, Hanuman, embroidered in green andyellow. 

The red and white bags carrying bones, which were supposed to be thebones of defunct relatives, were suspended from tripods of bamboo topreserve them from the pollution of the soil. 

And presently three big drums, Nakaras, were arranged in front of theyogi's tent, and were being beaten by strong-armed drummers, while aconch shell blared forth a discordant note that was supposed to bepleasing to the gods. 

Some of the Bagrees issued from their tents having suddenly becomecanonised, metamorphosed from highwaymen to devout yogis, their bodies, looking curiously lean and ascetic, now clothed largely in ashes andpaint. 

"Go you, Hunsa, " Ajeet commanded, "into this depraved village andsummon the _patil_ to come forth and pay to the sainted yogi the usualgift of one rupee four annas, and make his salaams. Also he is toprovide fowl and fruits for us who are on this sacred mission. He maybe a son of swine, such as the lord of a village is, so speak, Jamadar, of the swords the Raja's guards carry. Say nothing as to the expectedone, but let your eyes do all the questioning. "

Hunsa departed on his mission, and even then the villagers could beseen assembled between the Bagrees and the mud huts, watching curiouslythe encampment. 

"Sookdee, " Ajeet said, "if we can rouse the anger of the _patil_--"

The Jamadar laughed. "If you insist upon the payment of silver youwill accomplish that, Ajeet. "

Ajeet touched his slim fingers to Sookdee's arm: "Do not forget, Jamadar--call me Raja. But as to the village; if we anger them theywill not entertain the merchant; they will not let him rest in thevillage. And also if they are of an evil temper we will warn themerchant that they are thieves who will cut his throat and rob him. Wewill give him the protection of our numbers. "

"If the merchant is fat--and when they attain wealth they always becomefat--he will be happy with us, Raja, thinking perhaps that he willescape a gift of money the _patil_ would exact. "

"Yes, " Ajeet Singh answered, "we will ask him for nothing when hedeparts. "

After a time Hunsa was seen approaching, and with him thegrey-whiskered _patil_. 

The latter was a commoner. He suggested a black-faced, grey-whiskeredmonkey of the jungles. Indeed the pair were an anthropoid couple, Hunsa the gorilla, and the headman an ape. Behind them straggled adozen villagers, men armed with long ironwood sticks of combat. 

The headman salaamed the yogi and Ajeet, saying, "This is but a poorplace for holy men and the Raja to rest, for the water is bad andfamine is upon us. "

"A liar, and the son of a wild ass, " declared Ajeet promptly. "Give tothis saint the gift of silver, lest he put the anger of Kali upon you, and call upon her of the fiery furnace in the sacred hills to destroyyour houses. Also send fowl and grain, and think yourself favoured ofKali that you make offering to such a holy one, and to a Raja who is infavour with Sindhia. "

But the villager had no intention of parting with worldly goods if hecould get out of it. He expostulated, enlarged upon his poverty, rubbed dust upon his forehead, and called upon the gods to destroy himif he had a breakfast in the whole village for himself and people, declaring solemnly; "By my Junwa!"--though he wore no sacredthread, --"there is no food for man or horse in the village. " Then hewaxed angry, asking indignantly, who were these stragglers upon theroad that they should come to him, an official of the Peshwa, to demandtribute; he would have them destroyed. Beyond, not two _kos_ away, were a thousand soldiers, --which was a gorgeous lie, --who if he butsent a messenger would come and behead the lot, would cast the sacredbones in the gaudy bags upon the dunghill of the village bullocks. 

"To-morrow, monkey-man, the gift will be doubled, " Ajeet answeredcalmly, "for that is the law, and you know it. "

But the _patil_, thinking there would be little fight in a party ofpilgrims and mendicants, called to his stickmen to bring help and theywould beat these insolent ones and drive them on their way. 

"Take the yogi, Hunsa, " Ajeet said, "and the men that have thefire-powder and throw it upon the thatched roof of a hut in the way ofa visitation from the gods, because this ape will not leave us in peacefor our mission until he is subdued. "

In obedience as Hunsa and the yogi moved toward the village, the_patil_ cried. "Where go you?"

"We go with a message from the gods to you who offer insult to a holyone. "

The villagers armed with sticks, retreated slowly before the yogi, dreading to offer harm to the sainted one. Muttering his curses, hisiron tongs clanking at every step, the yogi strode to the firstmud-wall huts, and there raising his voice cried aloud: "Maha Kalilconsume the houses of these men of an evil heart who would deny theoffering to Thee. "

Then at a wave of his skeleton arm the two men threw upon the thatchedroof of a hut a grey preparation of gunpowder which was but apyrotechnical trick, and immediately the thatch burst into flames. 

"There, accursed ones--unbelievers! Kali has spoken!" the yogideclared solemnly, and turning on his heels went back to the camp. 

The headman and his men, with howls of dismay, rushed back to stop theconflagration. And just then the jewel merchant arrived in his cart. The curtains of the canopy were thrown back and the fat Hindu satblinking his owl eyes in consternation. At sight of Ajeet hedescended, salaamed, and asked:

"Has there been a decoity in the village--is it war and bloodshed?"

Ajeet assumed the haughty condescending manner of a Rajput prince, andexplained, with a fair scope of imagination that the _patil_ was a manof ungovernable temper who gave protection to thieves and outlaws, thatthe village itself was a nest for them. That two of his servants, having gone into the village to purchase food, had been set upon, beaten and robbed; that the conflagration had been caused by the firefrom a gun that one of the debased villagers had poked through a holein the roof to shoot his servants. 

"As my name is Ragganath, it is a visitation upon these scoundrels, "the merchant declared. 

"It is indeed, Sethjee. "

Ajeet had diplomatically used the "Sethjee, " which was a friendlyrendering of the name "Seth, " meaning "a merchant, " and the wily Hindu, not to be outdone in courtesy, promoted Ajeet. 

"Such an outrage, Maharaja, on the part of these low-caste people inthe presence of the sainted one, and the pilgrims upon such a sacredmission to Mother Gunga, has brought upon them the wrath of the gods. May the village be destroyed; and the _patil_ when he dies come back toearth a snake, to crawl upon his belly. "

"The headman even refused to give the holy one the gift ofsilver--tendering instead threats, " Ajeet added. 

The merchant spat his contempt: "Wretches!" he declared; "debasedassociates of skinners of dead animals, and scrapers of skulls; Bah!"and he spat again. "And to think but for the Presence having arrivedhere first I most assuredly would have gone into the village, andperhaps have been slain for my--"

He stopped and rolled his eyes apprehensively. He had been on thepoint of mentioning his jewels, but, though he was amongst saints andkings, he suddenly remembered the danger. 

"We would not have camped here, " Ajeet declared, "had we not been astrong party, because this village has an evil reputation. You havebeen favoured by the gods in finding honest men in the way ofprotection, and, no doubt, it is because you are one who makesofferings to the deity. "

"And if the Maharaja will suffer the presence of a poor merchant, whois but a shopkeeper, I will rest here in his protection. "

Ajeet Singh graciously consented to this, and the merchant commandedhis men to erect his small tent beneath the limbs of the deep greenmango trees. 

The decoits watched closely the transport of the merchant's effectsfrom the cart to the tent. When a strong iron box, that was an evidentweight for its two carriers, was borne first their eyes glistened. Therein was the wealth of jewels the flying horsemen of the night hadwhispered to the yogi about. 

CHAPTER VIII

When the merchant's tent had been erected, and he had gone to itsshelter, the jamadars, sitting well beyond the reach of his ears, helda council of war. Ajeet was opposed to the killing of Ragganath andhis men, but Hunsa pointed out that it was the only way: they wereeither decoits or they were men of toil, men of peace. Dead men werenot given to carrying tales, and if no stir were made about the decoityuntil they were safely back in Karowlee they could enjoy the fruits Oftheir spoils, which would be, undoubtedly, great. By the use of thestrangling cloth there would be no outcry, no din of battle; they ofthe village would think that the camp was one of sleep. Then when thebodies had been buried in a pit, the earth tramped down flat and solid, and cooking fires built over it to obliterate all traces of a grave, they would strike camp and go back the way they had come. 

Ajeet was forced to admit that it was the one thorough way, but hepersisted that they were decoits and not thugs. 

At this Sookdee laughed: "Jamadar, " he said, "what matters to a deadman the manner of his killing? Indeed it is a merciful way. Such asBhowanee herself decreed--in a second it is over. But with the spear, or the sword--ah! I have seen men writhe in agony and die ten timesbefore it was an end. "

"But a caste is a caste, " Ajeet objected, "and the manner of the caste. We are decoits, and we only slay when there is no other way. "

Hunsa tipped his gorilla body forward from where it rested on his heelsas he sat, and his lowering eyes were sullen with impatience:

"Chief Ajeet, " he snarled, "think you that we can rob the _seth_ of histreasure without an outcry--and if there is an outcry, that he will notgo back to those of his caste in Poona, and when trouble is made, thinkyou that the Dewan will thank us for the bungling of this? And as tothe matter of a thug or a decoit, half our men have been taught the artof the strangler. With these, "--and extending his massive arms heclosed his coarse hands in a gnarled grip, --"with these I would, withone sharp in-turn on the _roomal_, crack the neck of the merchant andhe would be dead in the taking of a breath. And, Ajeet, if this thatis the manner of men causes you fear--"

"Hunsa, " and Ajeet's voice was constrained in its deadliness, "thatass's voice of yours will yet bring you to grief. "

But Sookdee interposed:

"Let us not quarrel, " he said. "Ajeet no doubt has in his mind Booteaas I have Meena. And it would be well if the two were sent on the roadin the cart, and when our work is completed we will follow. Indeedthey may know nothing but that there is some jewel, such as women love, to be given them. "

"Look you, " cried Hunsa thrusting his coarse hand out toward the road, "even Bhowanee is in favour. See you not the jackal?"

Turning their eyes in the direction Hunsa indicated, a jackal was seenslinking across the road from right to left. 

"Indeed it is an omen, " Sookdee corroborated; "if on our journeys tocommit a decoity that is always a good omen. "

"And there is the voice!" Hunsa exclaimed, as the tremulous lowing of acow issued from the village. 

He waved a beckoning hand to Guru Lal, for they had brought with themtheir tribal priest as an interpreter of omens chiefly. "Is not thevoice of the cow heard at sunset a good omen, Guru?" he demanded. 

"Indeed it is, " the priest affirmed. "If the voice of a cow is heardissuing at twilight from a village at which decoits are to profit, itis surely a promise from Bhowanee that a large store of silver will beobtained. "

"Take thee to thy prayers, Guru, " Ajeet commanded, "for we have mattersto settle. " He turned to Sookdee. "Your omens will avail little ifthere is prosecution over the disappearance of the merchant. I amsupposed to be in command, the leader, but I am the led. But I willnot withdraw, and it is not the place of the chief to handle the_roomal_. We will eat our food, and after the evening prayers will sitabout the fire and amuse this merchant with stories such as honest menand holy ones converse in, that he may be at peace in his mind. AsSookdee says, the women will be sent to the grove of trees we camethrough on the road. "

"We will gather about the fire of the merchant, " Sookdee declared, "forit is in the mango grove and hidden from sight of the villagers. Alsoa guard will be placed between here and the village, and one upon theroadway. "

"And while we hold the merchant in amusement, " Hunsa added, "men willdig the pits here, two of them, each within a tent so that they willnot be seen at work. "

"Yes, Ajeet, " Sookdee said with a suspicion of a sneer, "we will givethe merchant the consideration of a decent burial, and not leave him tobe eaten by jackals and hyenas as were the two soldiers you finishedwith your sword when we robbed the camel transport that carried theBritish gold in Oudh. "

"If it is to be, cease to chatter like jays, " Ajeet answered crossly. 

In keeping with their assumed characters, the evening meal was usheredin with a peace-shattering clamour from the drums and a raucous blarefrom conch-shell horns. Then the devout murderers offered up prayersof fervency to the great god, beseeching their more immediate branch ofthe deity, Bhowanee, to protect them. 

And at the same time, just within the mud walls of Sarorra, its peoplewere placing flowers and cocoanuts and sweetmeats upon the shrine ofthe god of their village. 

Just without the village gate the elephant-nosed Ganesh sat looking inwhimsical good nature across his huge paunch toward the place of crime, the deep shadow that lay beneath the green-leafed mango trees. 

In the hearts of the Bagrees there was unholy joy, an eageranticipation, a gladsome feeling toward Bhowanee who had certainlyguided this rapacious merchant with his iron box full of jewels totheir camp. 

Indeed they would sacrifice a buffalo at her temple of Kajuria, forthat was the habit of their clan when the booty was great. The takingof life was but an incident. In Hindustan humans came up like flies, returning over and over to again encumber the crowded earth. In thevicissitudes of life before long the merchant would pass for areincorporation of his soul, and probably, because of his sins as anoppressor of the poor, come back as a turtle or a jackass; certainlynot as a revered cow--he was too unholy. In the gradation of humans hewas but a merchant of the caste of the third dimension in the greatquartette of castes. It would not be like killing a Brahmin, a sin inthe sight of the great god. 

This philosophy was as subtle as the perfume of a rose, unspoken, evenat the moment a floaty thought. Like their small hands and their erectair of free-men, the Rajput atmosphere, it had grown into their createdbeing, like the hunting instinct of a Rampore hound. 

The merchant, smoking his _hookah_, having eaten, observed with keensatisfaction the evening devotions of the supposed mendicants. As itgrew dark their guru was offering up a prayer to the Holy Cow, for shewas to be worshipped at night. The merchant's appreciation was largelya worldly one, a business sense of insurance--safety for his jewels andnothing to pay for security--men so devout would have the gods in theirmind and not robbery. When the jamadars, and some of the Bagrees whowere good story tellers, and one a singer, did him the honour of comingto sit at his camp-fire he was pleased. 

"Sit you here at my right, " he said to Hunsa, for he conceived him tobe captain of the Raja's guard. 

Sookdee and the others, without apparent motive, contrived it so that aBagree or two sat between each of the merchant's men, engaging them inpleasant speech, tendering tobacco. And, as if in modesty, some of theBagrees sat behind the retainers. 

"This is indeed a courtesy, " the merchant assured Hunsa; "a poor traderfeels honoured by a visit from so brave a soldier as the captain of theRaja's guard. "

He noticed, too, with inward satisfaction, that the jamadars had lefttheir weapons behind, which they had done in a way of not arousingtheir victim's fears. 

"Would not it be deemed a courtesy, " the merchant asked, "if one likemyself, who is a poor trader, should go to pay his respects to the Rajaere he retires, for of course it would be beneath his dignity to cometo his servant?"

"No, indeed, " declared Hunsa quickly, thinking of the graves that wereeven then being dug; "he is a man of a haughty temper, and when he isin the society of the beautiful dancing girl who is with him, he caresnot to be disturbed. Even now he is about to escort her in the cartdown the road to where there is a shrine that women of that caste makeoffering to. "

It had been arranged that Ajeet would escort Bootea, with two Bagreesas attendants, to the grove of trees half a mile down the road. He hadinsisted on this in the way of a negative support to the murder. Asthere would be no fighting this did not reflect on his courage as aleader. And as to complicity, Hunsa knew that as the leader of theparty, Ajeet would be held the chief culprit. It was always the leaderof a gang of decoits who was beheaded when captured, the others perhapsescaping with years of jail. And Hunsa himself, even Sookdee, would besafe, for they were in league with the Dewan. 

There was an hour of social talk; many times Hunsa fingered the_roomal_ that was about his waist; the yellow-and-white stranglingcloth with which Bhowanee had commanded her disciples, the thugs, tokill their victims. In one corner of it was tied a silver rupee forluck. The natural ferocity of his mind threw him into an eageranticipation: he took pride in his proficiency as a strangler; hiscoarse heavy hands, like those of a Punjabi wrestler, were suited tothe task. Grasping the cloth at the base of a victim's skull, tight tothe throat, a side-twist inward and the trick was done, the spinesnapped like a pipe-stem. And he had been somewhat out of practice--hehad regretted that; he was fearful of losing the art, the knack. 

About the fat paunch of the merchant was a silver-studded belt. Hunsaeyed this speculatively. Beyond doubt in its neighbourhood would bethe key to the iron box; and when its owner lay on his back, hisbulbous eyes glaring upward to where the moon trickled through thethick foliage of the mango tree beneath which they sat, he would seizethe keys and be first to dabble his grimy fingers in the glitteringgems. 

Beyond, the village had hushed--the strident call of voices had ceased. Somewhere a woman was pounding grain in a wooden mortar--a dullmonotonous "thud, thud, swish, thud" carrying on the dead air. Night-jars were circling above the trees, their plaintive call, "chy-eece, chy-e-ece!" filtering downward like the weird cry ofspirits. Once the deep sonorous bugling note of a _saurus_, like thebass pipe of an organ, smote the stillness as the giant crane wingedhis way up the river that lay beyond, a mighty ribbon of silver in themoonlight. A jackal from the far side of the village, in the fields, raised a tremulous moan. 

Sookdee looked into the eyes of Hunsa and he understood. It was the_tibao_, the happiest augury of success, for it came over the rightshoulder of the victim. 

Hunsa, feeling that the moment to strike had come, rose carelessly, saying: "Give me tobacco. "

That was a universal signal amongst thugs, the command to strike. 

Even as he uttered the words Hunsa had slipped behind the merchant andhis towel was about the victim's neck. Each man who had been assignedas a strangler, had pounced upon his individual victim; while Sookdeestood erect, a knife in his hand, ready to plunge it into the heart ofany one who was likely to overcome his assailant. 

Hunsa had thrown the helpless merchant upon his face, and with one kneebetween his shoulder-blades had broken the neck; no sound beyond agurgling breath of strangulation had passed the Hindu's lips. Therehad been no clamour, no outcry; nothing but a few smothered words, gasps, the scuffle of feet upon the earth; it was like a horriblenightmare, a fantastic orgy of murderous fiends. The flame of thecampfire flickered sneers, drawn torture, red and green shadows in thestaring faces of the men who lay upon the ground, and the figures ofthe stranglers glowed red in its light, like devils who danced in hell. 

Hunsa had turned the merchant upon his back and his evil gorilla facewas thrust into the face of his victim. No breath passed the thickprotruding lips upon which was a froth of death. 

As the Jamadar tore the keys from the waist-band, snapping a silverchain that was about the body, he said: "Sookdee, be quick. Have thebodies carried to the pits. Do not forget to drive a spear througheach belly lest they swell up and burst open the earth. "

"You have the keys to the chest, Hunsa?" Sookdee said, with suspicionin his voice. 

"Yes, Jamadar; I will open it. We will empty it, and place the ironbox on top of the bodies in a pit, for it is too heavy to carry, and ifwe are stopped it might be observed. "

"Take the dead, " Sookdee commanded the Bagrees; "lay them out; takedown the tents that are over the pits, and by that time I will be thereto count these dead things in the way of surety that not one hasescaped with the tale. 

"Come, " he said to Hunsa, "together we will go to the iron box and openit; then there can be no suspicion that the men of Alwar have beendefrauded. "

Hunsa turned malignant eyes upon Sookdee, but, keys in hand, strodetoward the tent. 

Sookdee, thrusting in the fire a torch made from the feathery bark ofthe _kujoor_ tree, followed. 

Hunsa kneeling before the iron box was fitting the keys into the doublelocks. Then he drew the lids backward, and the two gasped at a glitterof precious stones that lay beneath a black velvet cloth Hunsa strippedfrom the gems. 

Sookdee cried out in wonderment; and Hunsa, slobbering gutturals ofavarice, patted the gems with his gorilla paws. He lifted a largesquare emerald entwined in a tracery of gold, delicate as thecriss-cross of a spider's web, and held it to his thick lips. 

"A bribe for a princess!" he gloated. "Take you this, Sookdee, andhide it as you would your life, for a gift to the son of the Peshwa, who, methinks, is behind the Dewan in this, we will be men of honour. And this"--a gleaming diamond in a circlet of gold--"for SirdarBaptiste, " and he rolled it in his loin cloth. "And this, "--a stringof pearls, that as he laid it on the black velvet was like the tears ofangels, --"This for the fat pig of a Dewan to set his four wives at eachother's throats. Let not the others know of these, Sookdee, of thesethat we have taken for the account. "

Suddenly there was a clamour of voices, cries, the clang of swords, thesharp crash of a shot, and the two jamadars, startled, eyes staring, stood with ears cocked toward the tumult. 

"Soldiers!" Sookdee gasped. His hand brushed Hunsa's bare arm as hethrust it into the chest and brought it forth clasping jewels, which hetied in a knot of his waistcloth. "Take you something, Hunsa, and lockthe box till we see, " he said darting from the tent. 

Hunsa filled a pocket of his brocaded Jacket, but he was looking forthe Akbar Lamp, the ruby. He lifted out a tray and ran his grimy handsthrough the maze of gold and silver wrought ornaments below. Hisfingers touched, at the very bottom, a bag of leather. He tore itopen, and a blaze of blood-red light glinted at him evilly where a rubycaught the flame of the torch that Sookdee had thrown to the earthfloor as he fled. 

With a snarl of gloating he rolled the ruby in a fold of his turban, locked the box, and darted after Sookdee. 

He all but fell over the seven dead bodies of the merchant and his menas he raced to where a group was standing beyond. And there three morebodies lay upon the ground, and beside them, held, were two horses. 

"It is Ajeet Singh, " Sookdee said pointing to where the Chief lay withhis head in the lap of a decoit. "These two native soldiers of theEnglish came riding in with swiftness, for behind them raced Ajeet whomust have seen them pass. "

"And here, " another added, "as the riders checked at sight of the dead, Ajeet pulled one from his horse and killed him, but the other, with apistol, shot Ajeet and he is dead. "

"The Chief is not dead, " said the one who held his head in his lap; "heis but shot in the shoulder, and I have stopped the blood with my hand. "

"And we have killed the other soldier, " another said, "for, having seenthe bodies, we could not let him live. "

From Sookdee's hand dangled a coat of one of the dead. 

"This that is a leather purse, " he said, "contains letters; the redthing on them I have looked upon before--it is the seal of the Englay. It was here in the coat of that one who is a sergeant--the other beinga soldier. "

He put the leather case within the bosom of his shirt, adding: "Thismay even be of value to the Dewan. Beyond that, there was little ofloot upon these dogs of the Englay--eight rupees. The coats and theturbans we will burn. "

Hunsa stooped down and slipped the sandals from the feet of the oneSookdee had pointed out as the officer. 

"The footwear is of little value, but we will take the brass cookingpots of the merchant, " Sookdee said, eyeing this performance; there wassuspicion in his eyes lighted from the flare of their camp fires. 

"Sookdee, " Hunsa said, "you have the Englay leather packet, but they donot send _sowars_ through the land of the Mahratta with the realmessage written on the back of the messenger. In quiet I will ripapart the soles of this footwear. Do you that with the saddles;therein is often hidden the true writing. In the slaying of these twowe have acquired a powerful enemy, the English, and the message, ifthere be one, might be traded for our lives. Here are the keys to thebox, for it is heavy. "

Into Hunsa's mind had flashed the thought that the gods had opened theway, for he had plotted to do this thing--the destruction of Ajeet. 

"Have all the bodies thrown into the pit, Sookdee, " he advised; "makeperfect the covering of the fire and ash, and while you prepare forflight I will go and bring Bootea's cart to carry Ajeet. "

Then Hunsa was swallowed up in the gloom of the night, melting like ashadow into the white haze of the road as he raced like a grey wolftoward the Gulab, who now had certainly been delivered into his hands. 

Soon his heart pumped and the choke of exertion slowed him to a fastwalk. The sandals, bulky with their turned-up toes, worried him. Hedrew a knife from his sash and slit the tops off, muttering: "If it ishere, the message of value, it will be between the two skins of thesoles. "

Now they lay flat and snug in his hand as he quickened his pace. 

CHAPTER IX

The Gulab heard the shot at the Bagree camp, and Hunsa found hertrembling from apprehension. 

"What has happened, Jamadar?" she cried. "Ajeet heard the beat ofiron-shod hoofs upon the road, and seeing in the moonlight the tworiders knew from the manner they sat the saddles that they were of theEnglay service; when he called to them they heeded him not. Then Ajeetfollowed the two. Why was the shot, Hunsa?"

"They have killed Ajeet, " Hunsa declared; "but also they are dead, andI have the leader's leather sandals for a purpose. The shot has rousedthe village, and even now our people are preparing for flight. Get youinto the cart that I may take you to safety. " He took the ruby fromhis turban, saying: "And here is the most beautiful ruby in Hind; thefat pig of a Dewan wants it, but I have taken it for you. "

But Bootea pushed his hand away: "I take no present from you, Hunsa. "

Hunsa put the jewel back in his turban and commanded the two men, whostood waiting, "Make fast the bullocks to the cart quickly lest we becaptured, because other soldiers are coming behind. "

The two Bagrees turned to where the slim pink-and-grey coated trottingbullocks were tethered by their short horns to a tree and leading themto the cart made fast the bamboo yoke across their necks. 

"Get into the cart, Bootea, " Hunsa commanded, for the girl had notmoved. 

"I will not!" she declared. "I'm going back to Ajeet; he is notdead--it is a trick. "

"He _is_ dead, " Hunsa snarled, seizing her by arm. 

The Gulab screamed words of denunciation. "Take your hands off me, sonof a pig, accursed man of low caste! Ajeet will kill you for this, dog!"

At this the wife of Sookdee fled, racing back toward the camp. One ofthe men darted forward to follow, but Hunsa stayed him, saying, "Lether go--it is better; I war not upon Sookdee. "

He had the Gulab now in the grasp of both his huge paws, and holdingher tight, said rapidly: "Be still you she-devil, accursed fool! Youare going to a palace to be a queen. The son of the Peshwa desiresyou. True, I, also, have desire, but fear not for, by Bhowanee! it isa life of glory, of jewels and rich attire that I take you to; so getinto the cart. "

But Bootea wrenched free an arm and struck Hunsa full upon his uglyface, screaming her rebellion. 

"To be struck by a woman!" Hunsa blared; "not a woman, but the spawn ofa she-leopard! why should not I beat your beautiful face into uglinesswith one of these sandals of a dead pig!"

He lifted her bodily, calling to the man upon the ground, the otherhaving mounted behind the bullocks. "Put back the leather wall of thecart that I may hurl this outcast widow of a dead Hindu within. "

Bootea clawed at his face; she kicked and fought; her voice screaming acall to Ajeet. 

There was a heavy rolling thump of hoofs upon the roadway, unheard ofHunsa because of the vociferous struggle. Then from the shimmer ofmoonlight thrust the white form of a big Turcoman horse that was thrownalmost to his haunches, his breast striking the back of the decoit. 

The bullocks, nervous little brutes, startled by the huge white animal, swerved, and before the man who sat a-straddle of the one shaftgathered tight the cord to their nostrils, whisked the cart to theroadside where it toppled over the bank for a fall of fifteen feet intoa ravine, carrying bullocks and driver with it. 

The moonlight fell full upon the face of the horseman, its light makingstill whiter the face of Captain Barlow. 

And Bootea recognised him. It was the face that had been in her visionnight and day since the _nautch_. 

"Save me, Sahib!" she cried; "these men are thieves; save me, Sahib!"

The hunting crop in Barlow's hand crashed upon the thick head of Hunsain ready answer to the appeal. And as the sahib threw himself from thesaddle the jamadar, with a snarl like a wounded tiger, dropped the girland, whirling, grappled with the Englishman. 

Barlow was strong; few men in the force, certainly none in theofficers' mess, could put him on his back; and he was lithe, supple asa leopard; and in combat cool, his mind working like the mind of achess player: but he realised that the arms about him were the arms ofa gorilla, the chest against which he was being crushed was the chestof a trained wrestler; a smaller man would have heard his bonescracking in that clutch. 

He raised a knee and drove it into the groin of the jamadar; then inthe slight slackening of the holding arms as the Bagree shrank from theblow, he struck at the bearded chin; it was the clean, trainedshort-arm jab of a boxer. 

But even as the gorilla wavered staggeringly under the blow, a softsomething slipped about Barlow's throat and tightened like the coils ofa python. And behind something was pressing him to his death. Theother Bagree springing to the assistance of Hunsa had looped his_roomal_ about the Sahib's throat with the art of a thug. 

Barlow's senses were going; his brain swam; in his fancy he had beenshot from a cliff and was hurtling through space in which there was noair--his lungs had closed; in his brain a hammer was beating him intounconsciousness. 

Then suddenly the pressure on his throat ceased, it fell away; the airrushed to the parched lungs. With a wrench his brain cleared, and hewent down; but now with power in his arms, the arms that still clungabout the dazed Hunsa, and he was on top. 

Scarce aware of the action, out of a fighting instinct, he dragged fromits holster his heavy pistol, and beat with its butt the ugly headbeneath, beat it till it was still. Then he staggered to his feet andlooked wonderingly at the form of the Bagree behind who lay sprawled onthe road, a great red splash across the white jacket on his breast. 

In the Gulab's hand was still clutched the dagger she had drawn fromher girdle and driven home to save the sahib who had sat like a god inher heart. With the other hand she held out from contact with herlimbs the muslin _sari_ that was crimsoned where the blood of theBagree had fountained when she drew forth her knife. 

Barlow darted forward as Bootea reeled and caught her with an arm. Close, the face, fair as that of a memsahib in the pallor of fright andthe paling moonlight, sweet, of finer mould, more spiritual than theMona Lisa's, puritanically simple, the mass of black hair drawnstraight back from the low broad brow--for the rich turban had fallenin her fight for freedom--woke memory in the sahib; and as the bloodebbed back through the girl's veins, the pale cheeks flushed with rose, her eyelids quivered and drew back their shutters from eyes that werelike those of an antelope. 

"You--you, Gulab, the giver of the red rose, the singer of the lovesong!" Barlow gasped. 

"Yes, Captain Sahib, you who are like a god--" Bootea checked, her headdrooped. 

But Barlow putting his fingers under her chin and gently lifting theface asked, "And what--what?"

"You came like one in a dream. Also, Sahib, I am but one who dancedbefore you and you have saved me. "

"And, little girl, you saved my life. "

He felt a shudder run through the girl's form, and then she pushed himfrom her crying, "Sahib--Hunsa! Quick!"

For the jamadar, recovering his senses, had risen to his knees fumblingat his belt groggily for his knife. 

Barlow swung the pistol from its holster and rushed toward Hunsa, butthe latter, at sight of the dreaded weapon, fled, pursued for a fewpaces by the Captain. 

The girl saw the sandal soles lying upon the ground where Hunsa haddropped them in the struggle, and slipped them beneath her breast-belt, a quick thought coming to her that if the Captain saw them he mightrecognise them as the footwear of the soldiers. Also Hunsa had saidthey were for a purpose. 

Barlow followed the fleeing shadow for a dozen strides, then his pistolbarked, and swinging on his heel he came back, saying, with a littlelaugh, "That was just to frighten the beggar so he wouldn't come back. "

But Bootea's eyes went wide now with a new fear; the sound of the shotwould travel faster even than the fleeing Hunsa: and if the decoitscame--for already they would be making ready for the road--thisbeautiful god, with eyes like stars and a voice of music, would bekilled, would be no more than the Bagree lying on the road who was butcarrion. In her heart was a new thing. The struggle with Hunsa, thefright, even the horribleness of the blood upon her knife, was washedaway by a hot surging flood of exquisite happiness. The Hindu name forlove--"a pain in the heart"--was veritably hers in its intensity; thesahib's arm about her when she had closed her eyes had caused her tofeel as if she were being lifted to heaven. 

She laid a hand on Barlow's arm and her eyes were lifted pleadingly tohis: "You must go, Sahib--mount your horse and go, because--"

"Because of what?"

"There are many, and you will be killed. Hunsa will bring others. "

"Others--who are they?"

But the Gulab had turned from him and was listening, her eyes turned tothe road up which floated from beyond upon the hushed silence that wasabout them, --that seemed deeper because of the dead man lying in themoonlight, --the beat of Hunsa's feet on the road. Once there was thewhining note of wheels that claimed a protest from a dry axle; oncethere was a clang as if steel had struck steel; and on the droningthrough the night-hush was a rasping hum as if voices clamoured in thedistance. This was the bee-hive stirring of the startled village. 

"What is it, Bootea?" Barlow asked. 

The eyes raised to his face were full of fright, a pleading fright. "Sahib, " she answered, "do not ask--just go, because--"

"Yes, girl, why?"

"That this is dead (and her hand gestured toward the slain Bagree) andthat others are dead, is; but you, --will you mount the horse and goback the way you came, Sahib?"

Her small fingers clutched the sleeve of the coat he wore--it was ofhunting cloth, red-and-green: "Others are dead yonder, and evil is inthe hearts of those that live. Go, Sahib--please go. "

Barlow's mind was racing fast, in more materialistic grooves than theGulab's. There was something about it he didn't understand; somethingthe girl did not want to tell him; some horrible thing that she wasafraid of--her face was full of suppressed dread. 

Suddenly, through no sequence of reasoning, in fact there was no datato go upon, nothing except that a girl--the Gulab was just that--stoodthere afraid--through him she had just escaped from a man who waslittle more than an ape--stood quivering in the moonlight alone, exceptfor himself. So, suddenly, he acted as if energised by logic, as ifmental deduction made plain the way. 

"You are right, " he said: "we must go. "

He laid a hand upon the bridle-rein of the grey, that had stood therewith the submission of a cavalry horse, saying, "Come, Bootea. "

Foot in stirrup he swung to the saddle; and as the grey turned, hereached down both hands saying: "Come, I'll take you wherever you wantto go. "

But the girl drew back and shook her beautifully-modelled head, --thedelicate head with the black hair smoothed back to simplicity, and hervoice was half sob: "It can't be, Sahib, I am but--" She checked; tospeak of the decoits even, might lead to talk that would cause theSahib to go to their camp, and he would be killed; and she would be awitness to testify against her own people, the slayers of the sepoys. 

Barlow laughed, "Because you are a girl who dances you are not to besaved, eh?" he said. "But listen, the Sahibs do not leave women at themercy of villains; you must come, " and his strong sun-browned handswere held out. 

Bootea, wonderingly, as if some god had called to her, put her hands inBarlow's, and with a twist of his strong arms she was swung across hisknees. 

"Put your arms about my waist, Gulab, " he said, as the grey, to thetickle of a spur, turned to the road. "Don't lean away from me, " hesaid, presently, "because we have a long way to go and that tires. That's better, girl, " as her warm breast pressed against his body. 

The big grey, with a deep breath, and a sniffle of satisfaction, scenting that his head was turned homeward, paced along the ghost-stripof roadway in long free strides. Even when a jackal, or it might havebeen a honey-badger, slipped across the road in front, a driftingshadow, the Turcoman only rattled the snaffle-bit in his teeth, cockedhis ears, and then blew a breath of disdain from his big nostrils. 

In the easy swinging cradle of the horse's smooth stride the minds ofboth Barlow and the Gulab relaxed into restfulness; her arms about thestrong body, Bootea felt as if she clung to a tower of strength--thatshe was part of a magnetic power; and the nightmare that had been, soshort a time since, had floated into a dream of content, of gloriouspeace. 

Barlow was troubling over the problem of the gorilla-faced man, andthinking how close he had been to death--all but gone out except forthat figure in his arms that was so like a lotus; and the death wouldhave meant not just the forfeit of his life, but that his duty, themission he was upon for his own people, the British government, hadbeen jeopardised by his participation in some native affair of strife, something he had nothing to do with. He had ridden along that roadhoping to overtake the two riders that now lay dead in the pit with theother victims of the thugs--of which he knew nothing. They werebearing to him a secret message from his government, and he had riddento Manabad to there take it from them lest in approaching the city ofthe Peshwa, full of seditious spies and cutthroats, the paper might bestolen. But at Manabad he had learned that the two had passed, hadridden on; and then, perhaps because of converging different roads, hehad missed them. 

But most extraordinarily, just one of the curious, tangented ways ofFate, the written order lay against his chest sewn between the doublesole of a sandal. Once or twice the hard leather caused him to turnslightly the girl's body, and he thought it some case in which shecarried jewels. 

CHAPTER X

They had gone perhaps an eighth of a mile when the road they followedjoined another, joined in an arrowhead. The grey turned to the left, tothe west, the homing instinct telling him that that way lay his stall inthe city of the Peshwa. 

"This was the way of my journey, Bootea, " Barlow said; "I rode fromyonder, " and he nodded back toward the highway into which the two roadswedged. "It was here that I heard your call, the call of a woman indread. Also it might have been a business that interested me if it werea matter of waylaying travellers. Did you see two riders of largehorses, such as Arabs or of the breed I ride, men who rode as do_sowars_?"

"No, Sahib, I did not see them. "

This was not a lie for it was Ajeet who had seen them, and because of theSahib's interest she knew the two men must have been of his command; andif she spoke of them undoubtedly he would go back and be killed. 

"Were they servants of yours, Sahib--these men who rode?"

Barlow gave off but a little sliver of truth: "No, " he answered; "but atManabad men spoke of them passing this way, journeying to Poona, and ifthey were strangers to this district, it might be that they had taken thewrong road at the fork. But if you did not see them they will be ahead. "

"And meaning, Sahib, it would not be right if they saw you bearing onyour horse one who is not a memsahib?"

"As to that, Gulab, what might be thought by men of low rank is of noconsequence. "

"But if the Sahib wishes to overtake them my burden upon the horse willbe an evil, and he will be sorry that Bootea had not shame sufficient torefuse his help. "

She felt the strong arm press her body closer, and heard him laugh. Butstill he did not answer, did not say why he was interested in the twohorsemen. If it were vital, and she believed it was, for him to knowthat they lay dead at the Bagree camp, it was wrong for her to not tellhim this, he who was a preserver. But to tell him would send him to hisdeath. She knew, as all the people of that land knew, that the sahibswent where their Raja told them was their mission, and laughed at death;and the face of this one spoke of strength, and the eyes of placidfearlessness; so she said nothing. 

The sandal soles that pinched her soft flesh she felt were areproach--they had something to do with the thing that was between theSahib and the dead soldiers. There were tears in her eyes and sheshivered. 

Barlow, feeling this, said: "You're cold, Gulab, the night-wind thatcomes up from the black muck of the cotton fields and across the river israw. Hang on for a minute, " he added, as he slipped his arm from abouther shoulders and fumbled at the back of his saddle. A couple of buckleswere unclasped, and he swung loose a warm military cloak and wrapped itabout her, as he did so his cheek brushing hers. 

Then she was like a bird lying against his chest, closed in fromeverything but just this Sahib who was like a god. 

A faint perfume lingered in Barlow's nostrils from the contact; it wasthe perfume of attar, of the true oil of rose, such as only princes usebecause of its costliness, and he wondered a little. 

She saw his eyes looking down into hers, and asked, "What is it, Sahib--what disturbs you? If it is a question, ask me. "

His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight. "Just nothing that a manshould bother over--that he should ask a woman about. "

But almost involuntarily he brushed his face across her black hair andsaid, "Just that, Gulab--that it's like burying one's nose in a rose. "

"The attar, Sahib? I love it because it's gentle. "

"Ah, that's why you wore the rose that I came by at the _nautch_?"

"Yes, Sahib. Though I am Bootea, because of a passion for the rose I amcalled Gulab. "

"Lovely--the Rose! that's just what you are, Gulab. But the attar is socostly! Are you a princess in disguise?"

"No, Sahib, but one brought me many bottles of it, the slim, long bottleslike a finger; and a drop of it lasts for a moon. "

"Ah, I see, " and Barlow smiled; "you have for lover a raja, the one whobrought the attar. "

The figure in the cloak shivered again, but the girl said nothing. AndBarlow, rather to hear her voice, for it was sweet like flute music, chaffed: "What is he like, the one that you love? A swaggering tallblack-whiskered Rajput, no doubt, with a purple vest embroidered in gold, clanking with _tulwar_, and a voice like a Brahmini bull--full of demand. "

The slim arms about his waist tightened a little--that was all. 

"Confess, Gulab, it will pass the time; a love story is sweet, and Brahm, who creates all things, creates flowers beautiful and sweet to stirlove, " and he shook the small body reassuringly. 

"Sahib, when a girl dances before the great ones to please, it ispermitted that she may play at being a princess to win the favour of araja, and sing the love song to the music of the _sitar_ (guitar), but itis a matter of shame to speak it alone to the Presence. "

"Tell me, Gulab, " and his strong fingers swept the smooth black hair. 

The girl unclasped her arms from about Barlow's waist and led his fingerto a harsh iron bracelet upon her arm. 

At the touch of the cold metal, iron emblem of a child marriage, ashackle never to be removed, he knew that she was a widow, accounted byBrahminical caste an offence to the gods, an outcast, because if thehusband still lived she would be in a _zenanna_ of gloomy walls, and notone who danced as she had at Nana Sahib's. 

"And the man to whom you were bound by your parents died?" he asked. 

"I am a widow, Sahib, as the iron bracelet testifies with coldbitterness; it is the badge of one who is outcast, of one who has notbecome _sati_, has not sat on the wood to find death in its devouringflame. "

Barlow knew all the false logic, the metaphysical Machiavellians, theBrahmins, advanced to thin out the undesirable females, --women consideredat all times in that land of overpopulation of less value than men, --bythe simple expedient of self-destruction. He knew the Brahmins' thesisculled from their Word of God, the Vedas or the Puranas, calculated tomake the widow a voluntary, willing suicide. They would tell Bootea thatowing to having been evil in former incarnations her sins had beenvisited upon her husband, had caused his death; that in a former life shehad been a snake, or a rat. 

The dead husband's mother, had Bootea come of an age to live with him, though yet but a child of twelve years, would, on the slightestprovocation, beat her--even brand her with a hot iron; he had known of ithaving been done. She would be given but one meal a day--rice andchillies. Even if she had not yet left her father's house he would lookupon her as a shameful thing, an undesirable member of the family, onenot to be rid of again in the way of marriage; for if a Hindu married herit would break his caste--he would be a veritable pariah. No servantwould serve him; no man would sell him anything; if he kept a shop no onewould buy of him; no one would sit and speak with him--he would beostracised. 

The only life possible for the girl would be that of a prostitute. Shemight be married by the temple priests to the god Khandoka, as thousandsof widows had been, and thus become a nun of the temple, a prostitute tothe celibate priests. Knowing all this, and that Bootea was what shewas, her face and eyes holding all that sweetness and cleanness, that shelived in the guardianship of Ajeet Singh, very much a man, Barlow admiredher the more in that she had escaped moral destruction. Her face was theface of one of high caste; she was not like the ordinary _nautch_ girl ofthe fourth caste. Everything about Bootea suggested breeding, quality. The iron bracelet, indicated why she had socially passed down thescale--there was no doubt about it. 

"I understand, Gulab, " he said; "the Sahibs all understand, and know thatwidowhood is not a reproach. "

"But the Sahib questioned of love; and how can one such know of love?The heart starves and does not grow for it feeds upon love--what we ofHind call the sweet pain in the heart. "

"But have none been kind, Gulab--pleased by your flower face, has no onewarmed your heart?"

The slim arms that gripped Barlow in a new tightening trembled, the facethat fled from the betraying moonlight was buried against his tunic, andthe warm body quivered from sobs. 

Barlow turned her face up, and the moonlight showed vagrant pearls thatlay against the olive cheeks, now tinted like the petals of a rose. Thenfrom a service point of view, and as a matter of caste, Barlow went_ghazi_. He drooped his head and let his lips linger against the girl'seyes, and uttered a superb common-place: "Don't cry, little girl, " hesaid; "I am seven kinds of a brute to bother you!"

And Bootea thought it would have been better if he had driven a knifeinto her heart, and sobbed with increased bitterness. Once her fingerswandered up searchingly and touched his throat. 

Barlow casting about for the wherefore of his madness, discovered themoonlight, and heard the soft night-air whispering through the harpchords of trees that threw a tracery of black lines across the whiteroad; and from a grove of mango trees came the gentle scent of theirblossoms; and he remembered that statistics had it that there was but onememsahib to so many square miles in that land of expatriation; and heknew that he was young and full of the joy of life; that a Britishsoldier was not like a man of Hind who looked upon women as cattle. 

There did not obtrude into his mental retrospect as an accusation againstthis unwarrantable tenderness the vision of the Resident'sdaughter--almost his fiancée. Indeed Elizabeth was the antithesis inphysical appeal of the gentle Gulab; the drawing-room perhaps; reparteeof Damascus steel fineness; tutored polish, class, cold integrity--thesethings associated admirably with the unsensuous Elizabeth. Thoughts ofher, remembrances, had no place in glamorous perfumed moonlight. 

So he set his teeth and admonished the grey Turcoman, called him thedecrepit son of a donkey, being without speed; and to punish him strokedhis neck gently: even this forced diversion bringing him closer to thetorturing sweetness of the girl. 

But now he was aware of a throbbing on the night wind, and a faint shrillnote that lay deep in the shadows beyond. It was a curious rumblingnoise, as though ghosts of the hills on the right were playing bowls withrounded rocks. And the shrilling skirl grew louder as if men marchedbehind bagpipes. 

The Gulab heard it, too, and her body stiffened, her head thrust from theenveloping cloak, and her eyes showed like darkened sapphires. 

"Carts carrying cotton perhaps, " he said. But presently he knew thatsmall cotton carts but rattled, the volume of rumbling was as if an armymoved. 

From up the road floated the staccato note of a staff beating itssurface, and the clanking tinkle of an iron ring against the wooden staff. 

"A mail-carrier, " Barlow said. 

And then to the monotonous pat-pat-pat of trotting feet the mail-carrieremerged from the grey wall of night. 

"Here, you, what comes?" the Captain queried, checking the grey. 

The postie stopped in terror at the English voice. 

"Salaam, Bahadur Sahib; it is war. "

"Thou art a tree owl, " and Barlow laughed. "A war does not spring uplike a drift of driven dust. Is it some raja's elephants and carts withhis harem going to a _durbar_?"

"Sahib, it is, as I have said, war. The big brass cannon that is called'The Humbler of Cities, ' goes forth to speak its order, and with it aresepoys to feed it the food of destruction. Beyond that I know not, Sahib, for I am a man of peace, being but a runner of the post. "

Then he salaamed and sifted into the night gloom like a thrown handful ofwhite sand, echoing back the clamp-clamp-clamp of his staff's iron ring, which was a signal to all cobras to move from the path of him who ran, slip their chilled folds from the warm dust of the road. 

And on in front what had been sounds of mystery was now a turmoil ofnoises. The hissing screech, the wails, were the expostulations oftortured axles; the rumbling boom was unexplainable; but the jungle ofthe hillside was possessed of screaming devils. Black-faced, white-whiskered monkeys roused by the din, screamed cries of hate andalarm as they scurried in volplaning leaps from tree to tree. Andpeacocks, awakened when they should have slept, called with their harshvoices from lofty perches. 

A party of villagers hurried by, shifting their cheap turbans to hidefaces as they scurried along. 

The Gulab was trembling; perhaps the decoits, led by Hunsa, had come by ashorter way; for they were like beasts of the jungle in this art ofsilent, swift travel. 

"Sahib, " she pleaded, "go from the road. "

"Why, Bootea?"

"The one with the staff spoke of soldiers. "

He laughed and patted her shoulder. "Don't fear, little lady, " he said, "an army doesn't make war upon one, even if they are soldiers. It willbe but a wedding party who now take the wife to the village of herhusband. "

"Not at night; and a Sahib who carries a woman upon his saddle will hearwords of offence. "

Though Barlow laughed he was troubled. What if the smouldering fire ofsedition had flared up, and that even now men of Sindhia's were slippingon a night march toward some massing of rebels. The resonant, heavymoaning of massive wheels was like the rumble of a gun carriage. And, too, there was the drumming of many hoofs upon the road. Barlow's eartold him it was the rhythmic beat of cavalry horses, not the erraticrat-a-tat, rat-a-tat of native ponies. 

With a pressure upon the rein he edged the grey from the white road to afringe of bamboo and date palms, saying; "If you will wait here, Gulab, I'll see what this is all about. "

He slipped from the saddle and lifted her gently to the ground saying, "Don't move; of a certainty it is nothing but the passing of some raja. But, if by any chance I don't return, wait until all is still, until allhave gone, and then some well-disposed driver of a bullock cart will takeyou on your way. " Putting his hand in his pocket, and drawing it forth, he added: "Here is the compeller of friendship--silver; for a bribe evenan enemy will become a friend. "

But the Gulab with her slim fingers closed his hand over the rupees, andpressed the back of it against her lips saying, "If I die it is nothing. But stay here, Sahib, they may be--"

She stopped, and he asked, "May be who, Gulab?"

"Men who will harm thee. "

But Barlow lifting to the saddle passed to the road, and Bootea crumpleddown in a little desolate heap of misery, her fingers thrust within herbodice, pleading with an amulet for protection for the Sahib. She prayedto her own village god to breathe mercy into the hearts of those whomarched in war, and if it were the Bagrees, that Bhowanee would vouchsafethem an omen that to harm the one on a white horse would bring her wrathupon their families and their villages. 

Captain Barlow reined in the grey on the roadside, for those that marchedwere close. Now he could see, two abreast, horses that carried cavalrymen. Ten couples of the troop rode by with low-voiced exchanges of wordsamongst themselves. A petty officer rode at their heels, and behind him, on a bay Arab, whose sweated skin glistened like red wine in themoonlight, came a _risiladar_, the commander of the troop. A little downthe road Barlow could see an undulating, swaying huge ribbon ofwhite-and-pink bullocks, twenty-four yoke of the tall lean-flankedpowerful _Amrit Mahal_, the breed that Hyder Ali long ago had brought onhis conquering way to the land of the Mahrattas. And beyond theghost-like line of white creatures was some huge thing that they drew. 

The commander reined his Arab to a stand beside Barlow and saluted, saying, "Salaam, Major Sahib--you ride alone?"

Barlow said: "My salaams, Risiladar, and I am but a captain. I ride atnight because the days are hot. My two men have gone before me becausemy horse dropped a shoe which had to be replaced. Did the Risiladar seemy two servants that were mounted?"

"I met none such, " the commander answered. "Perhaps in some village theyhave rested for a drink of liquor; they of the army are given to suchpractices when their Captain's eye is not upon them. I go withthis"--and he waved a gauntleted hand back toward the thing that loomedbeyond the bullocks that had now come to a halt. "It is the brasscannon, the like of which there is no other. We go to the camp of theAmil, who commands the Sindhia troops, taking him the brass cannon thatit may compel a Musselman zemindar to pay the tax that is long past due. Why the barbarian should not pay I know not for a tax of one-fourth isnot much for a foreigner, a debased follower of Mahomet, to render untothe ruler of this land that is the garden of the world. He has shuthimself and men up in his mud fort, but when this brass mother ofdestruction spits into his stronghold a ball or two that is not opium hewill come forth or we will enter by the gate the cannon has made. "

"Then there will be bloodshed, Risiladar, " Barlow declared. 

"True, Captain Sahib; but that is, after a manner, the method ofcollecting just dues in this land where those who till the soil now, were, but a generation or two since, men of the sword, --they can't forgetthe traditions. In the land of the British Raj six inches of a paper, with a big seal duly affixed, would do the business. That I know, for Ihave travelled far, Sahib. As to the bloodshed, worse will be thetrampling of crops, for in the district of this worshipper of Mahomet thewheat grows like wild scrub in the jungle, taller than up to the belly ofmy horse. That is the whyfore of the cannon, in a way of speaking, because from a hill we can send to this man a slaying message, and leavethe wheat standing to fill the bellies of those who are in his hands as atyrant. Sirdar Baptiste was for sending a thousand sepoys to put thefear of destruction in the debtor; but the Dewan with his eye on revenuefrom crops, hit upon this plan of the loud-voiced one of brass. "

Then the commander ordered the advance, and saluting, said: "Salaam, Captain Sahib, and if I meet with your servants I will give them newsthat you desire their presence. "

When the huge cannon had rumbled by, and behind it had passed a companyof sepoys on foot, Barlow turned his horse into the jungle for Gulab. 

CHAPTER XI

Bootea's eyes glistened like stars when, lowering a hand, Barlow said:"Put a foot upon mine, Gulab, and I'll swing you up. "

When they were on the road she said; "I saw them. It is as the runnersaid, war--is it so, Sahib?"

"The Captain says that he goes to collect revenue, but it may be thathe spoke a lie, for it is said that a man of the land of the FiveRivers, which is the Punjaub, has five ways of telling a tale, and butone of them is the truth and comes last. "

The girl pondered over this for a little, and then asked; "Does theSahib think perhaps it is war against his people?"

That was just what was in Barlow's mind since he had seen the big gungoing forth at night; that perhaps the plot that was just a whisper, fainter than the hum of a humming bird's wing, was moving with swiftsilent velocity. 

"Why do you ask that question? Have you heard from lips--perhapsloosened by wine or desire--aught of this?"

When she remained without answer, Barlow tapped his fingers lightlyupon her shoulder, saying, "Tell me, girl. "

"I have heard nothing of war, " she said. "There was a something thoughthat men whispered in the dark. "

"What was it?"

"It was of the Chief of the Pindaris. "

She felt the quivering start that ran through Barlow's body; but hesaid quietly: "With the Pindaris there is always trouble. Something ofrobbery--of a raid, was it?"

"I will listen again to those that whisper in the dark, " she answered, "and perhaps if it concerns you, for your protection, I will tell. "

"I hope those men didn't fall in with my two chaps, " Barlow said, rather voicing his thoughts than in the way of speaking to the girl. 

"The two who rode--they were the Captain Sahib's servants?"

Barlow started. "Yes, they were: I suppose I can trust you. "

"And the Sahib is troubled? Perhaps it was a message for the Sahibthat they carried. "

"I don't know, " he answered, evasively. "I was thinking that perhapsthey might be messengers, for our sepoys are not stationed here, andcome but on such errands. "

"And if they were lulled, and the message stolen, it would causetrouble?"

She felt him tremble as he looked down into her eyes. 

"I don't know. But the messages of a Raj are not for the ears of mento whom they have not been sent. "

Barlow had an intuition that the girl's words were not prompted by idlecuriosity. He was possessed of a sudden gloomy impression that sheknew something of the two men who rode. And it was strange that theyhad not been seen upon either of the roads. The officer spoke of themfrankly, and not as a man hiding something. 

Suddenly he took a firm resolve, perhaps a dangerous one; not dangerousthough if his men had really gone through. 

"Gulab, " he said, --and with his hand he turned her face up by the chintill their eyes were close together, --"if the two bore a message forme, and it was stolen, I would be like that one you loved was lost. "

The beautiful face swung from his palm and he could hear her gasping. 

"You know something?" he said, and he caressed the smooth black tresses. 

"I did not see them, Sahib. "

They rode in silence for half a mile and then she said, "Perhaps, Sahib, Bootea can help you--if the message is lost. "

"And you will, girl?"

"I will, Sahib; even if I die for doing it, I will. "

His arm tightened about her with a shrug of assuring thankfulness, andshe knew that this man trusted her and was not sorry of her burden. Little child-dreams floated through her mind that the silver-faced moonwould hang there above and light the world forever, --for the moon wasthe soul of the god Purusha whose sacrificed body had created theworld, --and that she would ride forever in the arms of this fair-facedgod, and that they were both of one caste, the caste that had as markthe sweet pain in the heart. 

And Barlow was sometimes dropping the troubled thought of the missingorder and the turmoil that would be in the Council of the GovernorGeneral when it became known, to mutter inwardly: "By Jove! if thechaps get wind of this, that I carried the Gulab throughout a moonlitnight, there'll be nothing for me but to send in my papers. I'll bedrawn;--my leg'll be pulled. " And he reflected bitterly that nothingon earth, no protestation, no swearing by the gods, would make itbelieved as being what it was. He chuckled once, picturing the face ofthe immaculate Elizabeth while she thrust into him a bodkin of moralautopsy, should she come to know of it. 

Bootea thought he had sighed, and laying her slim fingers against hisneck said, "The Sahib is troubled. "

"I don't care a damn!" he declared in English, his mind still on thepersonal trail. 

Seeing that she, not understanding, had taken the sharp tone as arebuke, he said, "If I had been alone, Gulab, I'd have been troubledsorely, but perhaps the gods have sent you to help out. "

"Ah, yes, God pulled our paths together. And if Bootea is but asacrifice that will be a favour, she is happy. "

If the girl had been of a white race, in her abandon of love she wouldhave laid her lips against his, but the women of Hind do not kiss. 

The big plate of burnished silver slid, as if pushed by celestialfingers, across the azure dome toward the loomed walls of the Ghatsthat it would cross to dip into the sea, the Indian Ocean, and mileupon mile was picked from the front and laid behind by the grey as hestrode with untiring swing toward his bed that waited on the highplateau of Poona. 

The night-jars, even the bats, had stilled their wings and slept in thelimbs of the neem or the pipal, and the air that had borne the softperfume of blossoms, and the pungent breath of jasmine, had chilled andgrown heavy from the pressure of advancing night. 

The two on the grey rode sleepily; the Gulab warm and happy, cuddled inthe protecting cloak, and Barlow grim, oppressed by fatigue and themental strain of feared disaster. Now the muscles of the horse rippledin heavier toil, and his hoofs beat the earth in shorted stride; theway was rising from the plain as it approached the plateau that waslike an immense shelf let into the wall of the world above the lowland;a shelf that held jewels, topaz and diamonds, that glinted their redand yellow lights, and upon which rested giant pearls, the moonlightsilvering the domes and minarets of white palaces and mosques of Poona. The dark hill upon which rested the Temple of Parvati threw its blackoutline against the sky, and like a burnished helmet glowed the goldendome beneath which sat the alabaster goddess. At their feet, strungout between forbidding banks of clay and sand, ran a molten stream ofsilver, the sleepy waters of the Muta. 

"By Jove!" and Barlow, suddenly cognisant that he had practicallyarrived at the end of his ride, that the windmill of Don Quixote stoodyonder on the hill, realised that in a sense, so far as Bootea wasconcerned, he had just drifted. Now he asked: "I'm afraid, littlegirl, your Sahib is somewhat of a fool, for I have not asked where youwant me to take you. "

"Yonder, Sahib, " and her eyes were turned toward the jewelled hill. 

As they rose to the hilltop that was a slab of rock and sand carrying acity, he asked: "Where shall I put you down that will be near yourplace of rest, your friends?"

"Is there a memsahib in the home of the Sahib?" she asked. 

"No, Bootea, not so lucky--nobody but servants. "

"Then I will go to the bungalow of the Sahib. "

"Confusion!" he exclaimed in moral trepidation. 

Bootea's hand touched his arm, and she turned her face inward to hidethe hot flush that lay upon it. "No, Sahib, not because of Bootea; onedoes not sleep in the lap of a god. "

"All right, girl, " he answered--"sorry. "

As the grey plodded tiredly down the avenue of trees, a smooth roadbordered by a hedge of cactus and lanten, Barlow turned him to theright up a drive of broken stone, and dropping to the ground at theverandah of a white-waited bungalow, lifted the girl down, saying:"Within it can be arranged for a rest place for you. "

A _chowkidar_, lean, like a mummified mendicant, rose up from asqueaking, roped _charpoy_ and salaamed. 

"Take the horse to the stable, Jungwa, and tell the _syce_ to undresshim. Remember to keep that monkey tongue of yours between your teethfor in my room hangs a bitter whip. It is a lie that I have not riddenhome alone, " Barlow commanded. 

CHAPTER XII

As Barlow led the Gulab within the bungalow she drew, as a veil, alight silk scarf across her face. 

Upon the floor of the front room a bearer, head buried in yards of pinkcotton cloth, his _puggri_, lay fast asleep. 

As Barlow raised a foot to touch the sleeper in the ribs the girl drewhim back, put the tips of her finger to her lips, and pointed towardthe bedroom door. 

Barlow shook his head, the flickering flame of the wick in an ironoil-lamp that rested in a niche of the wall exaggerating to ferocitythe frown that topped his eyes. 

But Bootea pleaded with a mute salaam, and raising her lips to his earwhispered, "Not because of what is not permitted--not because ofBootea--please. "

With an arm he swept back the beaded tendrils of a hangingdoor-curtain, the girl glided to the darkness of the room, and Barlow, lifting from its niche the iron lamp, followed. Within, she pointed tothe door that lay open and Barlow, half in rebellion, softly closed it. As he turned he saw that she had dropped from their holding cords theheavy brocaded silk curtains of the window. 

His limbs were numb from the long ride with the weight of the girl'sbody across his thighs; he was tired; he was mentally distressed overthe messengers he had failed to locate, and this, the almost forcedintrusion of Bootea into his bedroom, the closed door and the curtainedwindows, her doing, was just another turn of the kaleidoscope with itsbits of broken glass of a nightmare. He dropped wearily into a bigcane-bottomed Hindu chair, saying; "Little wilted rose, cuddle up onthat divan among the cushions and rest, while you tell me why we sit in_purdah_. "

The girl dragged a cushion from the divan, and placing it on the floorbeside his chair, sat on it, curling her feet beneath her knees. 

Barlow groaned inwardly. If his mind had not been so lethargic becauseof the things that weighted it, like the leaden soles upon a diver'sboots, he would have roused himself to say, "Look here, a chap can'tpull a girl who is as sweet as a flower and as trusting as a babe, outof trouble and then make bazaar love to her; he can't do it if he's anysort of a chap. " All this was casually in his mind, but he let histired eyes droop, and his hand that hung over the teak-wood arm of thechair rested upon the girl's shoulder. 

"Bootea will soon go so that the Sahib may sleep, for he is tired, " shesaid; "but first there is something to be said, and I have come closeto the Sahib because men not alone whisper in the dark but they listen. "

The hand that rested on Bootea's shoulder lifted to her cheek, andstrong fingers caressed its oval. 

"Would the Sahib sleep, and would his mind rest if he knew where thetwo who rode are?"

Barlow sat bolt upright in the chair, roused, the lethargy gone, as ifhe had poured raw whisky down his throat. And he was glad, the closeddoor and the drawn curtains were not now things of debasement. Curiousthat he should care what this little Hindu maid was like, but he did. His hand now clasped the girl's wrist, it almost hurt in its tenseness. 

"Yes, Gulab, "--and he subdued his voice, --"tell me if you know. "

"They are dead upon the road beyond where you saved Bootea. "

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"It was too late, Sahib; and if you had gone there they would havekilled you. "

"Who?"

"That, I cannot tell. "

"You must, Gulab. "

"No, Bootea will not. "

Barlow stared angrily into the big eyes that were lifted to his, thatthough they lingered in soft loving upon his face, told him that shewould not tell, that she would die first; even as he would have givenhis life if he had been captured by tribesmen and asked to betray hisfellow men as the price of liberty. 

He threw himself back wearily in the chair. "Why tell me this now, --tomock me, to exult?" he said, reproach in his voice. 

"But it is the message, Sahib, that is more than the life of a _sepoy_, is it not?"

Again he sat up: "Why do you say this--do you know where it is?"

She drew from beneath her bodice the sandal soles, saying: "These arefrom the feet of the messenger who is dead. The one the Sahib beatover the head with his pistol dropped them, --and he was carrying themfor a purpose. The Sahib knows, perhaps, the secret way of this land. "

In the girl's hand was clasped the knife from her girdle, and shetendered it, hilt first: "Bootea knows not if they are of value, theleather soles, but if the Sahib would open them, then if there are eyesthat watch the curtains are drawn. "

Barlow revivified, stimulated by hope, seized the knife and ran itssharp point around the stitching of the soles. Between the doubleleather of one lay a thin, strong parchment-like paper. 

He gave a cry of exultation as, unfolding it, he saw the seal of hisRaj. His cry was a gasp of relief. Almost the shatterment of hiscareer had lain in that worn discoloured sole, and disaster to his Rajif it had fallen into the hands of the conspirators. 

In an ecstasy of relief he sprang to his feet, and lifting Bootea, clasped her in his arms, smothering her face in kisses, whispering:"Gulab, you are my preserver; you are the sweetest rose that everbloomed!"

He felt the pound of her heart against his breast, and her eyesmirrored a happiness that caused him to realise that he was going toofar--drifting into troubled waters that threatened destruction. Thegirl's soul had risen to her eyes and looked out as though he were agod. 

As if Bootea sensed the same impending evil she pushed Barlow from herand sank back to the cushion, her face shedding its radiancy. 

Cursing himself for the impetuous outburst Barlow slumped into thechair. 

"Gulab, " he said presently, "my government gives reward for loyalty andservice. "

"Bootea has had full reward, " the girl answered. 

He continued: "We had talk on the road about the Pindaris; what didthey who whisper in the dark say?"

"That the chief, Amir Khan, has gathered an army, and they fear thatbecause of an English bribe he will attack the Mahrattas; so the Dewanhas brought men from Karowlee to go into the camp of the Pindaris indisguise and slay the chief for a reward. "

This information coming from Bootea was astounding. Neither ResidentHodson nor Captain Barlow had suspected that there had been a leak. 

"And was there talk of this message from the British to--?" Barlowchecked. 

"To the Sahib?" Bootea asked. "Not of the message; but it waswhispered that one would go to the Pindari camp to talk with Amir Khan, and perhaps it was the Sahib they meant. And perhaps they knew hewaited for orders from the government. "

Then suddenly it flashed upon Barlow that because of this he had beenmarked. The foul riding in the game of polo that so nearly put him outof commission--it had been deliberately foul, he knew that, but he hadattributed it to a personal anger on the part of the Mahratta officer, bred of rivalry in the game and the fanatical hate of an individualHindu for an Englishman. 

"Now that a message has come will the Sahib go to the Pindari camp?"Bootea persisted. 

"Why do you ask, Gulab?"

"Not in the way of treachery, but because the Sahib is now like a god;and because I may again be of service, for those who will slay AmirKhan will also slay the Sahib. "

"Gulab, --"

Barlow's voice was drowned by yells of terror in the outer room. 

"Thieves! Thieves have broken in to rob, and they have stolen my lamp!_Chowkidar, chowkidar_! wake, son of a pig!"

It was the bearer, who, suddenly wakened by some noise, had in the darkgroped for his lamp and found it missing. 

"Heavens!" the Captain exclaimed. "Now the cook house will beempty--the servants will come!" He rubbed a hand perplexedly over hisforehead. "Quick, Gulab, you must hide!"

He swung open a wooden door between his room and a bedroom next. Within he said: "There's a bed, and you must sleep here till daylight, then I will have the _chowkidar_ take you to where you wish to go. Youcouldn't go in the dark anyway. Bar the door; you will be quite safe;don't be frightened. " He touched her cheek with his fingers: "Salaam, little girl. " Then, going out, he opened the door leading to the roomof clamour, exclaiming angrily, "You fool, why do you scream in yourdreams?"

"God be thanked! it is the Sahib. " The bearer flopped to his knees andput his hands in abasement upon his master's feet. 

Jungwa had rushed into the room, staff in hand, at the outcry. Now hestood glowering indignantly upon the grovelling bearer. 

"It is the opium, Sahib, " he declared; "this fool spends all his timein the bazaar smoking with people of ill repute. If the Presence willbut admonish him with the whip our slumbers will not again bedisturbed. "

The bearer, running true to the tenets of native servants, put up theuniversal alibi--a flat denial. 

"Sahib, you who are my father and my mother, be not angry, for I havenot slept. I observed the Sahib pass, but as he spoke not, I thoughthe had matters of import upon his mind and wished not to be disturbed. "

"A liar--by Mother Gunga!" The _chowkidar_ prodded him in the ribswith the end of his staff, and turning in disgust, passed out. 

"Come, you fool!" Barlow commanded, returning to his room, and, sittingdown wearily upon the bed, held up a leg. 

The bearer knelt and in silence stripped the _putties_ from hismaster's limbs, unlaced the shoes, and pulled off the breeches. 

When Barlow had slipped on the pyjamas handed him, he said: "Tell the_chowkidar_ to come to me at his waking from the first call of thecrows. "

CHAPTER XIII

An omen of dire import all thugs believe is to hear the cry of a kitebetween midnight and dawn; to hear it before midnight does not matter, for the sleeper in turning over smothers the impending disaster beneathhis body. But Captain Barlow had put up no such defence if evil hungover him, for when the _chowkidar_ stood outside the door callingsoftly, "Captain Sahib! Captain Sahib!" Barlow lay just as he hadflopped on the bed, his tiredness having held him as one dead. 

Gently the soft voice of the _chowkidar_ pulled him back out of hisNirvana of non-existence, and he called sleepily, "What is it?"

"It is Jungwa, " the watchman answered, "and I have received the Sahib'sorder to come at this hour. "

Then Barlow remembered. He swung his feet to the floor, saying, "Come!"

When the watchman had walked out of his sandals to approach in his barefeet, the Captain said, "Is your tongue still to remain in your mouth, Jungwa, or has it been made sacrifice to the knife for the sin oftelling in the cookhouse tales of your Sahib and last night?"

"No, Sahib, I have not spoken. I am a Meena of the Ossary _jat_. InJaipur we guard the treasury and the zenanna of the Raja, and it is ourchief who puts the _tika_ upon the forehead of the Maharaja when heascends to the throne. Think you, then, Sahib, that an Ossary wouldbetray a trust?"

Barlow fixed the lean saffron-hued face with a searching look, andmuttered, "Damned if I don't believe the old chap is straight!" "Ithink it is true, " he said. "Shut the door. " Then he continued: "Theone who came last night is in the next room and you must take her outthrough the bathroom door, for there is cover of the crotons andoleanders, and then to the road. Acquire a _gharry_ and go with her towhere she directs you. "

"Salaam, Sahib! your servant will obey. And as to the _chota hazri_, Sahib?"

"By Jove! right you are, Jungwa"; for Barlow had forgotten that--thelittle breakfast, as it was called. 

Then he ran his fingers through his hair. To send the Gulab offwithout even a cup of tea was one thing; to admit the bearer to know ofher presence was another. 

The wily old watchman sensed what was passing in his master's mind, andhe hazarded, diplomatically, "If the One is of high caste she will noteat what is brought by the bearer who is of the Sudra caste, but fromthe hands of a Meena none but the Brahmin _pundits_ refuse food. "

Barlow laughed; indeed the grizzled one had perception--he was anaccomplice in the plot of secrecy. 

"Good! Eggs and toast and tea. Demand plenty--say your Sahib ishungry because of a long ride and nothing to eat. But hurry, I hearthe 'seven sisters' (crows) calling to sleepers that the sun is herewith its warmth. "

Then the bearer entered, but Barlow ordered him away, saying, "Sitwithout till I call. "

As he slipped into breeches and brown riding boots he cursed softly theentanglement that had thrust upon him this thing of ill flavour. Ofcourse the watchman, even if he did keep his mouth shut, which would bea miracle in that land of bazaar gossip, would have but one opinion ofwhy Bootea had spent the night in the bungalow. But if Barlow squaredthis by speaking of a secret mission, that would be a knowledge thatcould be exchanged for gold. Perhaps not all servants were spies, butthere were always spies among servants. 

"Damn the thing!" he muttered; but he was helpless. The old man wouldgive no sign of what, no doubt, was in his mind; he would hold thatleathery face in placid acquiescence in prevalent moral vagary. 

Then he tapped lightly on the wooden door, calling softly, "Bootea--Bootea!"

When it was opened he said: "Food is coming, Gulab. A man of castebrings it, and it is but eggs from which no life has been taken, so youmay eat. Then the _chowkidar_ will go with you. "

Jungwa brought the breakfast and put it down, saying, "I will wait, Sahib, outside the bathroom door. "

"Here is money--ten rupees for whatever is needed. Be courteous to thelady, for she is not a _nautchni_. "

"The Sahib would entertain none such, " the _chowkidar_ answered with agrave salaam. 

"Damn the thing!" Barlow groaned. 

CHAPTER XIV

An hour later Barlow, mounted on a stalky Cabuli polo-pony, rode to theResidency, happy over the papers in his pocket, but troubling over howhe could explain their possession and keep the girl out of it. To evenmention the Gulab, unless he fabricated a story, would let escape thenight-ride, and, no doubt, in the perversity of things, Resident Hodsonwould want to know where she was and where he had taken her, and insiston having her produced for an official inquisition. The Resident, amachine, would sacrifice a native woman without a tremor to theofficial gods. 

Barlow could formulate no plausible method; he could not hide the deathof the two native messengers, and would simply have to take the standof, "Here is this message from His Excellency and as to how I came byit is of as little importance as an order from the War Officeregulating the colour of thread that attaches buttons to a tunic. "

He turned the Cabuli up the wide drive that led to the Residency, thebig white walled bungalow in which Hodson lived, and shook his ridingcrop toward Elizabeth who was reading upon the verandah. He swung fromthe saddle, and held out his hand to the girl, saying cheerily, "Hello, Beth! Didn't you ride this morning, or are you back early?"

The novel seemed to require support of the girl's hand, or she had notobserved that of the caller. Her face, always emotionless, wasrepellent in its composure as she said; "Father is just inside in hisoffice with a native, and I fancy it's one of the usual dark things ofmystery, for he asked me to sit here by the window that he might haveboth air and privacy; I'm to warn off all who might stand here againstthe wall with an open ear. "

"I'll pull a chair up and chat to you till he's--"

"No, Captain Barlow--" Barlow winced at this formality--"Father, I'msure, wants you in this matter; in fact, I think a _chuprassi_ is onhis way now to your bungalow with the Resident's salaams. "

Barlow laid his fingers on the girl's shoulder: "I'm ghastly tired, Beth. I'll come back to you. "

"Yes, India is enervating, " she commented in a flat tone. 

Barlow had a curious impression that the girl's grey eyes had turnedyellow as she made this observation. 

"Ah, Captain, glad you've come, " Hodson said, rising and extending ahand across a flat-topped desk. "I'm--I'm--well--pull a chair. Thisis one Ajeet Singh, " and he drooped slightly his thin, lean, bald headtoward the Bagree Chief, who stood stiff and erect, one arm in a sling. 

At this, Ajeet, knowing it for an informal introduction, put his handto his forehead, and said, "Salaam, Sahib. "

"_Tulwar_ play, sir, and an appeal for protection to the British, eh?"and Barlow indicated the arm in the sling. 

Still speaking in English Hodson said: "As to that, --" he pursed histhin lips, --"something dreadful has happened; this man has been mixedup in a decoity and has come for protection; he wants to turn Approver. "

"The usual thing; when these cut-throats are likely to be caught theyturn Judas; to save their own necks they offer a sacrifice of theircomrades. "

"Yes, " the Resident affirmed, "but I'm glad he came. Perhaps we hadbetter just sit tight and let him go on--he's only nicely started. I've practically promised him that if what he confesses is of serviceto His Excellency's government I will give him our conditional pardon, and use what influence I have with the Peshwa. But I fancy that oldBaji Rao is mixed up in it himself. "

He turned to the decoit: "Commence again, and tell the truth; and if Ibelieve, you may be given protection from the British; but as toSindhia I have no power to protect his criminals. "

The decoit cleared his throat and began: "I, Ajeet Singh, holdallegiance to the Raja of Karowlee, and am Chief of the Bagrees, whoare decoits. "

The Resident held up his hand: "Have patience. " He rose, and took froma little cabinet a small alabaster figure of _Kali_ which he placedupon the table, saying in English to Barlow, "When these decoitsconfess to be made Approvers, half of the confession is lies, for toswear them on our Bible is as little use as playing a tin whistle. Ifhe's a Bagree this is his goddess. "

In Hindi he said: "Ajeet Singh, if you are a Bagree decoit you are inthe protection of Bhowanee, and you make oath to her. "

"Yes, Sahib. "

"This is Bhowanee, --that is your name for Kali, --and with obeisance toher make oath that you will tell the truth. "

"Yes, Sahib, it is the proper way. "

"Proceed. "

The jamadar with the fingers of his two hands clasped to his foreheadin obeisance, declared: "If I, Ajeet Singh, tell that which is nottrue, Mother _Kali_, may thy wrath fall upon me and my family. "

Then Hodson shifted the black goddess and let it remain upon a cornerof his table, surmising that the sight of it would help. 

"Speak, now, " the Resident commanded; and the Jamadar proceeded. 

"Dewan Sewlal sent to Raja Karowlee for men for a mission, and whetherit was in the letter he sent that _thugs_ should come I know not, butin our party were thugs, and that led to why I am here. "

"What is the difference, Ajeet, " Hodson asked sharply. "You are adecoit who robs and kills, and thugs kill and rob; you are bothdisciples of this murderous creature, Kali. "

"We who are decoits, while we make offerings to Kali, are not thugs. They have a chief mission of murder, while we have but desire to gainfor our families from the rich. The thugs came in this wise, sahib. Bhowanee created them from the sweat of her arms, and gave to them hertooth for a pick-axe, which is their emblem, a rib for a knife, and thehem of her garment for a noose to strangle. The hem of her sacredgarment was yellow-and-white, and the _roomal_ that they strangle withis yellow-and-white. They are thugs, Sahib, and we are decoits. "

"A fine distinction, sir, " and Barlow laughed. 

"Proceed, " Hodson commanded. 

"We were told by the Dewan to go to the camp of the Pindaris and bringback the head of Amir Khan. "

"Lovely!" Barlow muttered softly; but Hodson started, --a slight rougecrept over his pale face and he said, "By Gad! this grows interesting, my dear Captain. "

"Absolutely Oriental, " Barlow added. 

Then when their voices had stilled Ajeet continued: "But Hunsa hadridden with the Pindari Chief and he knew that he was well guarded, andthat it would be impossible to bring his head in a basket, so werefused to go on this mission. The Dewan was angry and would not giveus food or pay. Through Hunsa the Dewan sent word that we must obtainour living in the way of our profession, which is decoity. "

"I wonder, " Barlow queried. 

But Hodson, nodding his head said: "Quite possible; and also quiteprobable that the dear avaricious Dewan would claim a share of the lootif it were of value, jewels especially. " He addressed Ajeet, "I havenothing to do with this; I am not Sindhia. "

"True, Sahib Bahadur, but a decoity was made upon a merchant on theroad and he and his men were killed, but also two English _sowars_ wereslain. "

"By heavens!" The cool, trained, bloodless machine, that was a BritishResident at a court of intrigue, was startled out of his composure; hiseyes flashed to those of Barlow. 

But the Captain, knowing all this beforehand, had an advantage, and heshowed no sign of trepidation. 

Then the thin drawn face of the Resident was flattened out by control, and he commanded the decoit to talk on. 

"I tried to save the two sepoys, and one was a sergeant, but I wasstricken down with a wound and it was in the way of treachery. "

Ajeet laid a hand upon his wounded shoulder, saying, "When the two_sepoys_ rode suddenly out of the night into our camp, where there inthe moonlight lay the bodies of the merchant and his men, the Bagreeswere afraid lest the two should make report. They rushed upon the tworiders, and it was then that I was wounded. I would have been killedbut for this protection, " and Ajeet rubbed affectionately the beautifulstrong shirt-of-mail that enwrapped his torso. 

"And observe, Sahib, the wound is from behind, which is a wound oftreachery. As I rushed to the two and cried to them to be gone, a ballfrom a short gun in the hands of some Bagree smote me upon theshoulder, and this, --" he again touched the shirt-of-mail, --"and myshoulder-blade turned it from my heart. Even then Hunsa thought I wasdead. And he was in league with the Dewan to obtain for Nana Sahib agirl of my household, who is called the Gulab because she is asbeautiful as the moon. "

At this statement Barlow knew why the man he had beaten with his pistolhad tried to seize the Gulab. It was startling. The leg that hadrested across a knee clamped noisily to the floor, and a smothered"Damn!" escaped from his lips. What a devilish complicated thing itwas. 

Ajeet resumed: "Hunsa rushed to where the Gulab was in hiding andhelped the men who had been sent by Nana Sahib to steal her. Then hecame back to our camp saying that many men had beaten him, and that hehad been forced to flee. "

At this vagary Barlow chuckled inwardly. 

"What of the two soldiers?" Hodson asked; "why were they here in thisland and at the camp of the Bagrees?"

"I know not, Sahib. "

"Were the bodies robbed by your men--they would be--did they findpapers that would indicate the two were messengers?" and the Resident'sbloodless fingers that clasped a pen were trembling with thesuppression of the awful interest he strove to hide, for he knew, aswell as Barlow, what their mission was. 

"Yes, Sahib, they were stripped and the bodies thrown in the pit withthe others. Eight rupees were taken, but as to papers I know nothing. "

"Where is the woman you call the Gulab?"

"She will be in the hands of Nana Sahib, " Ajeet answered; "and becauseof that I have come to confess so your Honour will save my life fromhim for he will make accusation that I was Chief of those who killedthe soldiers of the British; and that the Sahib will cause to havereturned to me the Gulab. "

The Resident took from a drawer a form, and his pen scratched irritablyat blanks here and there. He tossed it over to Barlow saying, "I'mgoing to give this decoit this provisional pardon; perhaps it will nailhim. What he has confessed is of value. You translate this to himwhile I think; I can't make mistakes--I must not. "

Captain Barlow read to Ajeet the pardon, which was the form adopted bythe British government to be issued to certain thugs and decoits whobecame spies, called Approvers, for the British. 

"You, Ajeet Singh, are promised exemption from the punishment of deathand transportation beyond seas for all past offences, and suchreasonable indulgence as your services may seem to merit, and may becompatible with your safe custody on condition:--1st, that you makefull confession of all the decoities in which you have been engaged;2nd, that you mention truly the names of all your associates in thesecrimes, and assist to the utmost of your power in their arrest andconviction. If you act contrary to these conditions--conceal any ofthe circumstances of the decoities in which you have beenengaged--screen any of your friends--attempt to escape--or accuse anyinnocent person--you shall be considered to have forfeited thereby allclaims to such exemption and indulgence. "

When the Captain had finished interpreting this the Resident passed itto the decoit, saying: "This will protect you from the British. Youare now bound to the British; and I want you to bring me any papersthat may have been found upon the two soldiers. Bring here this woman, the Gulab, if you can find her. Go now. "

When Ajeet, with a deep salaam, had gone from the room Hodson threwhimself back in his chair wearily and sighed. Then he said: "A woman!the jamadar was lying--all that stuff about Nana Sahib. There's beensome deviltry; they've used this woman to trap the messengers; that'sIndia. It's the papers they were after; they must have known they werecoming; and they've hidden the woman. We've got to lay hands upon her, Captain--she's the key-note. "

CHAPTER XV

Barlow had waited until the decoit would have gone before showing thepapers that were in his pocket because it was an advantage that theenemy should think them lost. He was checked now as he put a hand inhis pocket to produce them by the entrance of Elizabeth, and he fanciedthere was a sneer on her thin lips. 

"Father, " she said, as she leaned against the desk, one hand on itsteak-wood top, "I've been listening to the handsome leader of thieves;I couldn't help hearing him. I fancy that Captain Barlow could tellyou just where this woman, the Gulab, who is as beautiful as the moon, is. I'm sure he could bring her here--if he _would_. "

The Captain's fingers unclasped from the papers in his pocket, and nowwere beating a tattoo on his knee. 

"Elizabeth!" the father gasped, "do you know what you are saying?" Hiscold grey eyes were wide with astonishment. "Did you hear all of AjeetSingh's story?"

"Yes, all of it. "

"It's your friend, Nana Sahib, whom you treat as if he were anEnglishman and to be trusted, that knows where this woman is, Elizabeth. "

A cynical laugh issued from the girl's lips that were so like herfather's in their unsympathetic contour: "Yes, one may trust men, but awoman's eyes are given her to prevent disaster from this trust which isso natural to the deceivable sex. "

"Elizabeth! you do not know what you are saying--what the inferencewould be. "

"Ask Captain Barlow if he doesn't know all about the Gulab's movements. "

The Resident pushed irritably some papers on his desk, and turning inhis chair, asked, "Can you explain this, Captain--what it is all about?"

There were ripples of low temperature chilling the base of Barlow'sskull. "I can't explain it--it's beyond me, " he answered doggedly. 

The girl turned upon him with ferocity. "Don't lie, Captain Barlow; aBritish officer does not lie to his superior. "

"Hush, Beth, " the father pleaded. 

"Don't you know, Captain Barlow, " the girl demanded, "that this woman, the Gulab, is one who uses her beauty to betray men, even Sahibs?"

"No, I don't know that, Miss Hodson. I saw her dance at Nana Sahib'sand I've heard Ajeet's statement. I don't know anything evil of thegirl, and I don't believe it. "

"A man's sense of honour where a woman is concerned--lie to protecther. I have no illusions about the Sahibs in India, " she continued, ina tone that was devilish in its cynicism, "but I did think that aBritish officer would put his duty to his King above the shielding of a_nautch_ girl. "

"Elizabeth!" Hodson rose and put a hand upon the girl's arm; "do yourealise that you are doing a dreadful thing--that you are impeachingCaptain Barlow's honour as a soldier?"

Barlow's face was white, and Hodson was trembling, but the girl stood, a merciless cold triumph in her face: "I do realise that, father. Forthe girl I care nothing, nor for Captain Barlow's intrigue with such, but I am the daughter of the man who represents the British Raj here. "

Barlow, knowing the full deviltry of this high protestation, knowingthat Elizabeth, imperious, dominating, cold-blooded, was knifing asupposed rival--a rival not in love, for he fancied Elizabeth wasincapable of love--felt a surge of indignation. 

"For God's sake, Elizabeth, what impossible thing has led you tobelieve that Captain Barlow has anything to do with this girl?" thefather asked. 

"I'll tell you; the matter is too grave for me to remain silent. Thismorning I rode early--earlier than usual, for I wanted to pick up theCaptain before he had started. As I turned my mount in to his compoundI saw, coming from the back of the bungalow, this native woman, and shewas being taken away by his _chowkidar_. She had just come out someback door of the bungalow, for from the drive I could see the openspace that lay between the bungalow and the servants' quarters. "

Hodson dropped a hand to the teak-wood desk; it looked inadequate, thin, bloodless; blue veins mapped its white back. "You are mistaken, Elizabeth, I'm sure. Some other girl--"

"No, father, I was not mistaken. There are not many native girls likethe Gulab, I'll admit. As she turned a clump of crotons she saw mesitting my horse and drew a gauze scarf across her face to hide it. Iwaited, and asked the _chowkidar_ if it were his daughter, and the oldfool said it was the wife of his son; and the girl that he claimed washis son's wife had the iron bracelet of a Hindu widow on her arm. Andthe Gulab wears one--I saw it the night she danced. "

A ghastly hush fell upon the three. Barlow was moaning inwardly, "PoorBootea!"; Hodson, fingers pressed to both temples, was trying to thinkthis was all the mistaken outburst of an angry woman. Thestrong-faced, honest, fearless soldier sitting in the chair could notbe a traitor--_could not be_. 

Suddenly something went awry in the inflamed chambers of Elizabeth'smind--as if an electric current had been abruptly shut off. Shehesitated; she had meant to say more; but there was a staggeringvacuity. 

With an effort she grasped a wavering thing of tangibility, and said:"I'm going now, father--to give the keys to the butler for breakfast. You can question Captain Barlow. "

Elizabeth turned and left the room; her feet were like dependents, servants that she had to direct to carry her on her way. She did notcall to the butler, but went to her room, closed the door, flungherself on the bed, face downward, and sobbed; tears that scaldedsplashed her cheeks, and she beat passionately with clenched fist atthe pillow, beating, as she knew, at her heart. It was incredible, this thing, her feelings. 

"I don't care--I don't care--I never did!" she gasped. 

But she did, and only now knew it. 

"I was right--I'm glad--I'd say it again!"

But she would not, and she knew it. She knew that Barlow could not bea traitor; she knew it; it was just a battered new love assertingitself. 

And below in the room the two men for a little sat not speaking of theghoulish thing. Barlow had drawn the papers from his pocket; he passedthem silently across the table. 

Hodson, almost mechanically, had stretched a hand for them, and whenthey were opened, and he saw the seal, and realised what they were, some curious guttural sound issued from his lips as if he had waked inaffright from a nightmare. He pulled a drawer of the desk open, tookout a cheroot--and lighted it. Then he commenced to speak, slowly, droppingly, as one speaks who has suddenly been detected in a crime. He put a flat hand on the papers, holding them to the desk. And it wasElizabeth he spoke of at first, as if the thing under his palm, thatmeant danger to an empire, was subservient. 

"Barlow, my boy, " he said, "I'm old, I'm tired. "

The Captain, looking into the drawn face, had a curious feeling thatHodson was at least a hundred. There was a floaty wonderment in hismind why the fifty-five-years'-service retirement rule had not beenenforced in the Colonel's case. Then he heard the other's words. 

"I've had but two gods, Barlow, the British Raj and Elizabeth; that'ssince her mother died. In a little, a few years more, I will retirewith just enough to live on plus my pension--perhaps in France, whereit's cheap. And then I'll still have two gods, Elizabeth and the oneGod. And, Captain, somehow I had hoped that you and Elizabeth wouldhit it off, but I'm afraid she's made a mistake. "

Barlow had been following this with half his receptivity, for, thoughhe fought against it, the memory of Bootea--gentle, trusting, radiatinglove, warmth--cried out against the bitter unfemininity of the girl whohad stabbed his honour and his cleanness. The black figure of Kalistill rested on the table, and somehow the evil lines in the face ofthe goddess suggested the vindictiveness that had played about the thinlips of his accuser. 

And the very plea the father was making was reacting. It was this, that he, Barlow, was rich, that a chance death or two would make himLord Barradean, was the attraction, not love. A girl couldn't be inlove with a man and strive to break him. 

Hodson had taken up the papers, and was again scanning them mistily. 

"They were on the murdered messenger--he was killed, wasn't he, Barlow?"

"Yes. "

"And has any native seen these papers, Captain?"

"No, I cut them from the soles of the sandals the messenger wore, myself, Sir. "

"That is all then, Captain; we have them back--I may say, thank God!"He stood up and holding out his hand added, "Thank you, Captain. Idon't want to know anything about the matter--I'm too much machine nowto measure rainbows--fancy I should wear a strip of red-tape as a tie. "

"If you will listen, Sir--there is another that I want to put right. Your daughter did see the Gulab, but because she had brought me thesandals. And you can take an officer's word for it that the Gulab isnot what Elizabeth believes. "

"Captain, I have lived a long time in India, too long to be led away byquick impressions, as unfortunately Elizabeth was. I've outlived myprejudices. When the _mhowa_ tree blooms I can take glorious pleasurefrom its gorgeous fragrant flowers and not quarrel with its leaflesslimbs. When the pipal and the neem glisten with star flowers andsweeten the foetid night-air, it matters nothing to me that the nativesbelieve evil gods home in the branches. I know that even a cobra triesto get out of my way if I'll let him, and I know that the natives havebeauty in their natures--one gets to almost love them as children. So, my dear Captain, when you tell me that the Gulab rendered you and meand the British Raj this tremendous service, and add, quiteunnecessarily, that she's a good girl, I believe it all; we need neverbring it up again. Elizabeth has just made a mistake. And, Barlow, men are always forgiving the mistakes of women where their feelings areconcerned--they must--that is one of the proofs of their strength. Butthese"--and he patted the papers lovingly--"well, they're rather like areprieve brought at the eleventh hour to a man who is to be executed. We're put in a difficult position, though. To pass over in silence thekilling of two soldiers would end only in the House of Commons;somebody would rise in his place and want to know why it had beenhushed up. But to take action, to create a stir, would give rise to asuspicion of the existence of this. "

Hodson rose from his chair and paced the floor, one hand clasped to hisforehead, his small grey eyes carrying a dream-look as though he wereseeking an occult enlightenment; then he sat down wearily, and spoke asif interpreting something that had been whispered him. 

"Yes, Barlow, this decoit has been seized by the Nana Sahib lot. Hislife was forfeit, and they've offered him his life back to come hereand turn Approver--to become a spy, not _for_ us but as a spy _on_ usfor them. Ajeet would know that information of his coming to me wouldbe carried to them by spies--the spies are always with me--and his lifewouldn't be worth two annas. I gave him that pardon because we have nopower to seize him here, but it will make them think that we havefallen into the trap. They might even believe--wily and suspicious asthey are--that what he gleans here is the truth. 

"There's a curious efficacy, Barlow, in what I might call anaffectation of simplicity. You know those stupid heavy-headedcrocodiles in that big pool of the Nerbudda below the marble gorge, andhow they'll take nearly an hour wallowing and sidling up to a mud-bankbefore they crawl out to bask in the sun; but just show the tip of yourhelmet above the rock and they're gone. That's perhaps what I mean. As we might say back in dear old London, this wily Rajput thinks he haspulled my leg. "

"I think, Colonel, that you are dead onto his wicket. "

"Well, then, the thing to do is to emulate the mugger. Butthis"--Hodson lifted the paper and he grew crisp, incisive, his greyeyes blued like temper purpling polished steel--"we've got to act:they've got to be delivered, and soon. "

"I am ready, Sir. "

"It's a dangerous mission--most dangerous. "

"Pardon, Sir?"

"Sorry, Captain. I was just thinking aloud--musing; forgive me. Perhaps when one likes a young man he lets the paternal spirit come inwhere it doesn't belong. I'm sorry. There's a trusty Patan here whocould go with you, " Hodson continued, "and this side of his own borderhe is absolutely to be trusted; I have my doubts if any Patan can berelied upon by us across the border. "

"I will go alone, " Barlow said quietly. Then his strong white teethshowed in a smile. "You know the Moslem saying, Colonel, that tenDervishes can sleep on one blanket, but a kingdom can only hold oneking. I don't mean about the honour of it, but it will be easier forme. I went alone through the Maris tribe when we wanted to know whatthe trouble was that threatened up above the Bolan, and I had nodifficulty. You know, Sir, the playful name the chaps have given mefor years?"

"Yes--the 'Patan'--I've heard it. "

"I make a good Musselman--scarce need any make-up, I'm so dark; I canrattle off the _namaz_ (daily prayer), and sing the _moonakib_, thehymn of the followers of the Prophet. "

"Yes, " Hodson said, his words coming slowly out of a deep think, "therewill be Patans in the Pindari camp; in fact Pindari is an all-embracingname, having little of nationality about it. Rajputs, Bundoolas, Patans, men of Oudh, Sindies--men who have the lust of battle and loot, all flock to the Pindari Chief. Yes, it's a good idea, Captain, thedisguise; not only for an unnoticed entrance to the camp, but to escapea waylaying by Nana Sahib's cut-throats. "

"Yes, Colonel, from what I have learned--from the Gulab it was, Sir--the Dewan has an inkling that I am going on a mission; and if Irode as myself the King might lose an officer, and officers cost poundsin the making. "

The Resident toyed with the papers on his desk, his brow wrinkled froma debate going on behind it; he rose, and grasping the black Kalicarried it back to the cabinet, saying: "That devilish thing, sosuggestive of what we are always up against here, makes me shiver. "

Then he sat down, adding, "Captain, there is another important matterconnected with this. The Rana of Udaipur is being stripped of everyrupee by Holkar and Sindhia; they take turn about at him. Holkar is upthere now, where we have chased him--threatened to sack Udaipur unlesshe were paid seventy lakhs, seven million rupees--the accursed thief!We have managed to get an envoy to the Rana with a view to having him, and the other smaller rulers of Mewar, join forces with us to crushforever the Mahratta power--drive them out of Mewar for all time. TheRajputs are a brave lot--men of high thought, and it is too bad to havethese accursed cut-throats bleeding to death such a race. If the Ranawould sign this paper also as an assurance of friendship, to be shownthe Pindari Chief, it would help greatly. "

"I understand, Colonel. You wish me to get that from the Rana?"

"Yes, Captain; and I may say that if you can get through with all thisthere will be no question about your Majority; you might even go higherup than Major. "

"By Jove! as to that, my dear Colonel, this trip is just good sport--Ilove it: less danger than playing polo with these rotters. I'll swingover to Udaipur first--it's just west of the Pindari camp, --been thereonce before on a little pow-wow--then I'll switch back to Amir Khan. "

"I wish you luck, Captain; but be careful. If we can feel sure thatthis horde of Pindaris are not hovering on our army's flank, like theRussians hovered on Napoleon's in the Moscow affair, it will be a greatthing--you will have accomplished a wonderful thing. "

"Right you are, Sir, " Barlow exclaimed blithely. The stupendous task, for it was that, tonicked him; he was like a sportsman that hadreceived news of a tiger within killing distance. He rose, andstretched out his hand for the paper, saying: "I've got a job ofcobbling to do--I'll put this between the soles of my sandal, as it wascarried before--it's the safest place, really. To-morrow I'll becomean apostate, an Afghan; and I'll be busy, for I've got to do it allmyself. I can trust no one with a dark skin. "

"Not even the Gulab, I fear, Captain; one never knows when a woman willbe swayed by some mental transition. " He was thinking of Elizabeth. 

"You're right, Colonel, " Barlow answered. "I fancy I could trust theGulab--but I won't. "

CHAPTER XVI

Captain Barlow had been through a busy day. The very fact that all hedid in preparation for his journey to the Pindari camp had been donewith his own hands, held under water, out of sight, had increased thestrain upon him. 

In India in the usual routine of matters, a staff of ten servants forma composite second self to a Sahib: to hand him his boots, and lacethem; to lay out his clothes, and hold them while slipped into; tobring a cheroot or a peg of whiskey; a _syce_ to bring the horse andrub a towel over the saddle--to hold the stirrup, even, for the liftedfoot, and trotting behind, guard the horse when the Sahib makes a call;a man to go here and there with a note or to post a letter; a servantto whisk away a plate and replenish the crystal glass with pearl-beadedwine without sign from the drinker, and appear like a bidden ghost, clad in speckless white, silent and impassive of face, behind hismaster's chair at the table when he dines out; everything in factbeyond the mental whirl of the brain to be arranged by one or other ofthe ten. 

But this day Barlow had been like a man throwing detectives off histrail. Not one of his servants must suspect that he contemplated atrip--no, not just that, for the Captain had intimated casually to thebutler that he would go soon to Satara. 

Thus it had to be arranged secretly that he would ride from hisbungalow as Captain Barlow and leave the city as Ayub Alli, an Afghan. 

Perhaps Barlow was over tired, that curious knotted condition of thenerves through overstrain that rasps a man's mental fibre beyond thenarcotic of sleep, and yet holds him in a hectic state of halfunconsciousness. He counted camels--long strings of soured, complaining beasts, short-legged, stout, shaggy desert-ships, such asmerchants of Kabul used to carry their dried fruits, --figs and datesand pomegranates, and the wondrous flavoured Sirdar melon, --wendingacross the Sind Desert of floating white sand to Rajasthan. 

Once a male, tickled to frenzy by the caress of a female's velvet lipsupon his rump, with a hoarse bubbling scream, wheeled suddenly, snapping the thin lead-cord that reached from the tail of the camel infront to the button in his nostril, and charged the lady in anexuberance of affection with a full broadside--thrust from his chestthat bowled her over, where she lay among the fragments of two hugebroken burnt-clay _gumlas_, that, filled with water, had been lashed toher sides. 

Barlow sat up at this startling tumult that was the outcome of hisslipping a little into slumber. He threw his head back on the pillowwith a smothered, "Damn!"

His bed had creaked, and an answering echo as if something had slippedor slid, perhaps the sole of a bare foot on the fibrous floor matting, at the window, fell upon his senses. Turning his face toward the soundhe waited, eyes trying to pierce the gloom, and ear attuned. He almostcried out in alarm as something floated through the dark from thewindow and fell with a soft thud upon his face. He brushed at thesomething--perhaps a bat, or a lizard, or a snake--with his hand andreceived a sharp prick, a little dart of pain in a thumb. He sprangfrom the bed, lighted the wick that floated in the iron lamp, anddiscovered that the thing of dread was a rose, its petals red againstthe white sheet. 

He knew who must have thrown the rose, and almost wished that it hadbeen a chance missil, even a snake, but he put the lamp down, passedinto the bathroom, and unbarring the wooden door, called softly, "Whois there?"

From the cover of an oleander a slight girlish form rose up and came tothe door saying, "It is Bootea, Sahib; do not be angry, --there issomething to be said. "

By the arm he led her within and bidding her wait, passed to thebedroom and drew the heavy curtains of the windows. Then he wentthrough the drawing-room and out to the verandah, where the watchmanlay asleep on his roped charpoy. Barlow woke him: "There's a thiefprowling about the bungalow. Do not sleep till I give you permission. See that no one enters, " he commanded. 

He went back to his room, closed and barred the door, and told Booteato come. 

When the girl entered he said: "You should not have come here; thereare eyes, and ears, and evil tongues. "

"That is true, Sahib, but also death is evil--sometimes. "

"I have brought this to the Sahib, " Bootea said as she drew a paperfrom her breast and passed it to the Captain. It was the pardon theResident had given that morning to Ajeet Singh. 

Barlow, though startled, schooled his voice to an even tone as heasked: "Where did you get this--where is Ajeet?"

"As to the paper, Sahib, what matters how Bootea came by it; as toAjeet, he is in the grasp of the Dewan who learned that he had been tothe Resident in the way of treachery. "

"Ajeet thought Nana Sahib had stolen you, Bootea. "

"Yes, Sahib, for he did not find me when he went to the camp, and I didnot go there. But now he would betray the Sahibs, that is why I havebrought back the paper of protection. "

"Will they kill Ajeet?" Barlow asked. 

"I will tell the Sahib what is, " the girl answered, drawing her _sari_over her curled-in feet, and leaning one arm on Barlow's chair. "Thedecoity that was committed last night was, as Ajeet feared, because oftreachery on the part of the Dewan. I will tell it all, though itmight be thought a treachery to the decoits. As to being false toone's own clan Ajeet is, because he is a Bagree--but I am not. "

Barlow pondered over this statement. The girl had mystified him--thatis as to her breeding. Sometimes she spoke in the first person andagain in the third person, like so many natives, as if her language hadbeen picked up colloquially. But then the use of the third person whenshe used Bootea instead of a nominative pronoun might be due to acultured deference toward a Sahib. 

"I thought you were not of these people--you are of high caste, Bootea, " he said presently. 

He heard the girl gasp, and looking quickly into her eyes saw that theywere staring as if in fright. 

For a space of a few seconds she did not answer; then she said, andBarlow felt her voice was being held under control by force of will: "Iam Bootea, one in the care of Ajeet Singh. That is the present, Sahib, and the past--" She touched the iron bracelet on her arm, and lookedinto Barlow's eyes as if she asked him to bury the past. 

"Sorry, girl--forgive me, " he said. 

"Ajeet has told why the men were brought--for what purpose?"

"Yes, Gulab; to kill Amir Khan. "

"And when they refused to go on this mission, the Dewan, to get them inhis power, connived with Hunsa to make the decoity so that their liveswould be forfeit, then if the Dewan punished them for not going theRaja of Karowlee could not make trouble. Hunsa told the Dewan that ifI were sent to dance before Amir Khan, some of the men going asmusicians and actors, the Chief would fall in love with me, and that Icould betray him to those who would kill him; that he would come to mytent at night unobserved--because he has a wife with him--and thatHunsa would creep into the tent and kill him as he slept; then we wouldescape. "

Barlow sprang to his feet and paced the floor; then he plumped into thechair again, saying: "What an unholy scheme, even for India. Gad! howI wish I'd killed the brute when I had the chance. "

"I did not know that Hunsa had proposed this--neither did Ajeet; forthey wanted to get him in their power through the decoity so that if herefused permission he might be killed. And now Ajeet is trappedthrough the decoity and Bootea is going to the Pindari camp. "

"You're not going to betray Amir Khan, have him murdered!" Barlowcried, aghast at the villainy, at the thought that one so sweet couldbe forced to complicity in such a ghastly crime. 

"No, Sahib, to _save_ his life, for if I do not go now Ajeet will bekilled, and all the others put in prison because of the decoity. Worsewill happen Bootea, --she will be placed in the seraglio of Nana Sahib. "

"Damn it! they can't do that!" Barlow exclaimed angrily. "I'll stopthat. "

"No, the Sahib can't; and he has a mission, he is not of the service ofprotecting Bootea. "

"You can't save Amir Khan's life unless you betray the Bagrees to him?"

"Yes, Sahib, I can. Perhaps the Chief will like Bootea, and willlisten to what she says. Men such as brave warriors always treatBootea not as a _nautchni_ so I will ask him not to come to the tent atnight because of ill repute. Hunsa will not be able to slay him unlessit is a trap on my part to get him from the watching eyes of his men. If Hunsa becomes suspicious, and there is real danger, I will threatenthat I will expose him to the Chief. If we come back because we havefailed in our mission, having tried to succeed, it will not be likerefusing to go; and perhaps there will be mercy shown. "

"Mercy!" Barlow sneered; "Nana Sahib knows nothing of mercy, he's atiger. "

"But if I refuse to go another _nautchni_ will be sent, perhaps morebeautiful than I am, and she would betray the Chief, and perhaps allwould be killed. "

"By Jove! you're some woman, you're magnificent--you're like a Rajputniprincess. "

A slim hand was placed on Barlow's wrist and the girl said, "Sahib, Iam just Bootea, --please, please!"

"And that's your reason for taking this awful chance, to save Ajeet andthe others--is it?"

"There is another reason, Sahib. " The girl dropped her eyes andturning a gold bangle on her wrist gazed upon a ruby that had thecontour of a serpent's head. Presently she asked, "Will the Sahib goto Khureyra and have a knife thrust between his ribs?"

Barlow was startled by this query. "Why should I go to Khureyra, Gulab?"

"To see Amir Khan. "

"What makes you say that?"

"Because it is known. But the Chief is not now there--he has taken hishorsemen to Saugor. "

Again this was startling. Also the information was of great value. Ifthe Pindari horde had left the territory of Sindhia and crossed theborder into Saugor they were closer to the British. 

Barlow patted the girl's hand, saying, "My salaams to you, little girl. "

He felt her slim cool fingers press his hand, but he shrank from theclaiming touch, muttering, "The damned barrier!"

Suddenly Barlow remembered Bootea had spoken of another reason forgoing to the Pindari camp. He puzzled over this a little, hesitatingto question her; she had not told him what it was, but had asked if hewere going there; the reason evidently had something to do with him. It couldn't be treachery--she had done so much for him; it must be thesomething that looked out of her eyes when they rested on his face, theunworded greatest thing on earth in the way of fealty and devotion. Possibly this was the grand motive, the reason she had given beingsecondary. 

"You said, Gulab, that you had another reason for this awful trip; whatis it?" he asked. 

The girl's eyes dropped to the ruby bracelet again; "To acquire meritin the eyes of Mahadeo, Sahib. "

"To do good acts so that you may be reincarnated as a heaven-born, aBrahmini, perhaps even come back as a memsahib. "

At this her big eyes rose to Barlow's face, and he could swear thatthere were tears misting them; and sensing that if she had fallen inlove with him, what he had said about her becoming a memsahib had hurt. Perhaps she, as he did, realised that that was the barred door tohappiness--that she wasn't of the white race. 

"Yes, Sahib, " she said presently, "a Swami told me that in a formerlife I had been evil. "

"The Swami is an awful liar!" Barlow ejaculated. 

"The holy ones speak the truth, Sahib. The Swami said that because ofhaving been beautiful I had caused deaths through jealousy. "

"Oh, the crazy fool!" Barlow declared in English; "and it's all rot!This is the reason you spoke of, Gulab--good deeds; is it the onlyother reason?"

The girl turned her face away, and Barlow saw her shoulders quiver. 

He rose from the chair, and lifting the girl to her feet held her inhis arms, saying: "Look me in the eyes, Gulab, and tell me if you aregoing through this devilish thing because of me. "

"Bootea is going to the camp of Amir Khan because Hunsa and the othershave been told to kill the Sahib; and she will see that this is notaccomplished. "

Barlow clasped the girl to his breast and smothered her face in kisses;"You are the sweetest little woman that ever lived, " he said; "and I ama sinner, for this can only bring you misery. "

"Sahib--it can't be, but it is not misery. The sweet pain has been putin the heart of Bootea by the Sahib's eyes, and she is happy. But donot go as a Sahib. "

Barlow cursed softly to himself, muttering, "India! Even dreams arenot unheard!" Then, "What made you say that?" he queried. 

"It is known because that is the way of the Sahib. He knows that wherehe sleeps or eats, or plays games with the little balls, that there arealways servants, and it is known that Captain Barrle is called thePatan by his friends. "

"St. George and the Cross!" he ejaculated. "If I were thus would theyknow me?" he asked. "There would be danger, but the Sahib knowing ofthis, could take more care in the way of deceit. But Bootea willknow--the eyes will not be hidden. "

Then he thought of Hunsa, and asked, "But aren't you afraid to go withthat beast, Hunsa?"

The girl laughed. "The decoits have orders from the Dewan to kill himif I complain of him; but if they do not he is promised the torturewhen he comes back if I make complaint. If the Sahib will but wait afew days before the journey so that Bootea has made friends with AmirKami before he comes, it will be better. We will start in two days. "

"I'll see, Gulab, " he answered evasively. "You are going now?"

"Yes, Sahib--it has been said. "

"I'll send the doorman with you. "

"No, Bootea will be better alone, " she touched the knife in her sash;"it must not be known that Bootea came to the Sahib. "

Barlow took her arm leading her through the bathroom to the back door;he opened it, and listened intently for a few seconds. Then he tookher oval face in his palms and kissed her, passionately, saying, "Good-bye, little girl; God be with you. You are sweet. "

"The Sahib is like a god to Bootea, " she whispered. 

As the girl slipped away between the bushes, like something floatingout of a dream, Barlow stood at the open door, a resurge of abasementflooding his soul. In the combat between his mentality and his heartthe heart was making him a weakling, a dishonourable weakling, so itseemed. He pulled the door shut, and went back to his bed and finallyfell asleep, a thing of tortured unrest. 

CHAPTER XVII

Barlow was up early next morning, wakened by that universal alarm clockof India, the grey-necked, small-bodied city crow whose tribe is calledthe Seven Sisters--noisy, impudent, clamorous, sharp-eyed thieves thatthrong the compounds like sparrows, that hop in through the open windowand steal a slice of toast from beside the cup of tea at the bedside. 

He mounted the waiting Cabuli pony and rode to the Residency. He hadmuch to talk over with Hodson in the light of all that had transpiredin the last two days, and, also, he had a hope that Elizabeth would bepossessed of an after-the-storm calm, would greet him, and somehow givehim a moral sustaining against his lapse in heart loyalty. Mentally hedidn't label his feeling toward Elizabeth love. Toward her it had beenlargely a matter of drifting, undoubted giving in to suasion, more ofassociation than what was said. She had class; she was intellectual;there was no doubt about her wit--it was like a well-cut diamond, sparkling, brilliant--no warmth. When Barlow reflected, jogging alongon the Cabuli, that he probably did not love Elizabeth, picturing thepassion as typified by Romeo and Juliet as instance, he suddenly askedhimself: "By Jove! and does anybody except the pater love Elizabeth?"He was doubtful if anybody did. All the servants held her in esteem, for she was just, and not niggardly; but hers was certainly not adisposition to cause spontaneous affection. Perhaps the word admirableepitomised Elizabeth all round. But he felt that he needed a sort ofChristian Science sustaining, as it were, in this sensuousdrifting--something to make his slipping appear more obnoxious. 

As he rode up to the verandah of the Residency he saw Elizabeth cuttingflowers, probably to decorate the breakfast table. That was likeElizabeth; instead of leaving it to the _mahli_ (gardener), with thebutler to festoon the table, she was doing it herself. It was anoccupation akin to water-colour painting or lace work, just the sort ofthing to find Elizabeth at--typical. 

Barlow was possessed of a hopeful fancy that perhaps she had not riddenexpecting that he would call on the Resident; but as always with theResident's daughter he could deduct nothing from her manner. Shenodded pleasantly, looking up, a gloved hand full of roses; and, as heslipped from the saddle, relinquishing the horse to the _syce_, shefell in beside him as far as the verandah, where they stood talkingdesultory stuff; the morning sun on the pink and white oleanders, thecurious snake-like mottling of the croton leaves, and the song of a_dhyal_ that, high in a tamarind, was bubbling liquid notes of joy. 

"The Indian robin red-breast makes one homesick, " Elizabeth said. 

"Home--", but the girl put a quick hand on his arm checking him; theaction was absolutely like Elizabeth, imperious. A small, long-tailed, brown-breasted bird had darted across the compound to a mango tree fromwhere he warbled a love song as sweet and rich toned as the evensong ofa nightingale. 

The _dhyal_, as if feeling defeat in the sweeter carol of his rival, hushed. 

"The _shama_, " Elizabeth said; "when I hear him I close my eyes andpicture the downs and oaked hills of England, and fancy I'm listeningto the nightingale or the lark. "

Barlow turned involuntarily to look into the girl's face; it was aninquisitive look, a wondering look; gentle sentiment coming fromElizabeth was rather a reversal of form. 

Also there was immediately a reversal of bird form, a shatterment ofsentiment, a rasping maddening note from somewhere in the dome of apipal tree. A Koel bird, as if in derision of the feathered songsters, sent forth his shrill plaintive, "Koe-e-el, Koe-e-el, Ko-e-e-el!"

"Ah-a-a!" Barlow exclaimed in disgust--"that's India; the fever-bird, the koel, harbinger of the hot-spell, of burning sun and stifling dust, and throbbing head. "

He cursed the koel, for the gentle mood had slipped from Elizabeth. Hehad hoped that she would have spoken of yesterday, give him a shamedsolace for the hurt she had given him. Of course Hodson would havetold her all about the Gulab. But while that, the service, wassufficient for the Resident, Elizabeth would consider the fact thatBarlow knew Bootea well enough to have this service rendered; it wouldtouch her caste--also her exacting nature. 

Something like this was floating through his mind as he groped mentallyfor an explanation of Elizabeth's attitude, the effect of which wasneutral; nothing to draw him toward her in a way of moral sustaining, but also, nothing to antagonise him. 

She must know that he was leaving on a dangerous mission; but she didnot bring it up. Perhaps with her usual diffident reserve she feltthat it was his province to speak of that. 

At any rate she called to a hovering bearer telling him to give hismaster Captain Barlow's salaams. Then with the flowers she passed intothe bungalow. She had quite a proppy, military stride, bred of muchriding. 

Barlow gazed after Elizabeth ruefully, wishing she had thrown him alife belt. However, it did not matter; it was up to him to act in asane manner, men of the Service were taught to rely on themselves. Andin Barlow was the something of breeding that held him to the truething, to the pole; the breeding might be compared to the elusive thingin the magnetic needle. It did not matter, he would probably marryElizabeth--it seemed the proper thing to do. Devilish few of the chapshe knew babbled much about love and being batty over a girl--that is, the girls they married. 

Then the bearer brought Hodson's salaams to the Captain. 

And Hodson was a Civil Servant in excelsis. He took to bed with himhis Form D and Form C--even the "D. O. ", the Demi Official business, and worried over it when he should have slept or read himself to sleep. Duty to him was a more exacting god than the black Kali to theBrahmins; it had dried up his blood--atrophied his nerves of enjoyment. And now he was depressed though he strove to greet Barlow cheerily. 

"It's a devilish shindy, this killing of our two chaps, " he burst forthwith; "I've pondered over it, I've worried over it; the only solace inthe thing is, that the arm of the law is long. "

"I think you've got it, sir, " Barlow encouraged. "When we've smashedSindhia--and we will--we'll demand these murderers, hang a few of them, and send the rest to the Andamans. "

"Yes, it has simply got to wait; to stir up things now would only letthe Peshwa know what you are going to do--we'd show him our hand. AndI don't mind telling you, Captain, that he is an absolute traitor; andI believe that it's that damn Nana Sahib who's influencing him. "

"There's no doubt about it, sir. "

"No, there is not!" the Resident declared gloomily. "The two dead_sowars_ must be considered as sacrifice, just as though they hadfallen in battle; it's for the good of the Raj. If I get hauled overthe coals for this I don't give a damn. I've pondered over it, almostprayed over it, and it's the only way. There's talk of a big loot ofjewellery by these decoits, and the killing of the merchant and hismen, but I've got nothing to do with that. The one wonderful thing is, that we saved the papers. That little native woman that brought themto you must be rewarded later. By the way, Barlow, I took the libertyof explaining all that to Elizabeth, and I think she's pretty badly cutup over the way she acted. But you understand, don't you, Captain? Ibelieve that if it had been my case I'd have, well, I'd have known thatit was because the girl cared. Elizabeth is undemonstrative--too muchso, in fact; but I fancy--well, never mind: it's so long ago that Itook notice of these things that I find I'm trying to speak in anunknown tongue. "

The little man rose and bustled about, pulling out drawers from thecabinet and shoving them back again, venting little asthmatic coughs ofsheer nervousness. Then coming up to Barlow he held out his handsaying: "My dear boy, God be with you; but don't take chances--willyou?"

At that instant Elizabeth appeared at the doorway: "Captain Barlow willhave breakfast with us, won't he, father--it's all ready, and Boodhasays he has a chop-and-kidney curry that is a dream?"

"Jupiter!" Hodson exclaimed; "fancy I'm getting India head; was sendingBarlow off without a word about breakfast. Of course he'llstay--thanks, Elizabeth. "

The tired drawn parchment face of the Resident became revivified, itwas the face of a happy boy; the grey eyes blued to youth. Inwardly hemurmured: "Elizabeth is wonderful! I knew it; good girl!"

It was a curious breakfast--mentally. Elizabeth was the Elizabeth ofthe verandah. Perhaps it was the passionate beating of the pillow theday before, when she had realised for the first time what Barlow meantto her, that now cast her into defence; encased her in an armour ofprotection; caused her to assume a casualness. She would give worldsto not have said what she had said the day before, but the Captain mustknow that she had been roused by a knowledge of his intimacy with theGulab. Just what had occurred did not matter--not in the least; it washis place to explain it. That was Elizabeth's way--it was her mannerof thought; a subservience of impulse to propriety, to class. In thelight of her feeling when she had lain, wet-eyed, beating the pillow, she knew that if he had put his arms about her and said just evenstupid words--"I'm sorry, Beth, you know I love you"--she would havecapitulated, perhaps even in the capitulation have said a Bethism: "Itdoesn't matter--we'll never mention it again. "

But Barlow, very much of a boy, couldn't feel this elusive thing, androde away after breakfast from the bungalow muttering: "By gad!Elizabeth should have said something over roasting me. Fancy shedoesn't care a hang. Anyway--I'll give her credit for that--shedoesn't hunt with the hounds and run with the hare. If it's theprospect of sharing a title with me, a rotter would have eaten theleek. Yes, Elizabeth is class. "

CHAPTER XVIII

Dewan Sewlal was in a shiver of apprehension over the killing of thetwo sepoys; there would be trouble over this if the Resident came toknow of it. 

But Hunsa had assured him that the soldiers and their saddles had beenburied in the pit with the others, and that nobody but the decoits knewof their advent. 

Then when he learned that Ajeet Singh had been to the Resident he wasin a panic. But as that British official made no move, said nothingabout the decoity, he fancied that perhaps Ajeet had not mentionedthis, in fact he had no proof that he had made a confession at all. But Ajeet's complicity in the decoity where the merchant and his menhad been killed, gave the Dewan just what he had planned for--the powerof death over the Chief. As to his own complicity he had taken care tospeak of the decoity to no one but Hunsa. The yogi had been inspired, of course, but the yogi would not appear as a witness against him, andHunsa would not, because it would cost him his head. 

So now, at a hint from Nana Sahib, the Dewan seized upon Ajeet, voicinga righteous indignation at his crime of decoity, and gave him thealternative of being strangled with a bow-string or forcing the Gulabto go to the camp of Amir Khan to betray him. Not only would Ajeet bekilled, but Bootea would be thrust into the _seraglio_, and the otherBagrees put in prison--some might be killed. Ajeet was forced to yieldto these threats. The very complicity of the Dewan made him the morehurried in this thing. Also he wanted to get the Bagrees away to thePindari camp before the Resident made a move. 

The mission to Amir Khan would be placed in the hands of Hunsa andSookdee, Ajeet being retained as a pawn; also his wound hadincapacitated him. He was nominally at liberty, though he knew wellthat if he sought to escape the Mahrattas would kill him. 

The jewels that had been stolen from the merchant were largely retainedby the Bagrees, though the Dewan found, one night, very mysteriously, amagnificent string of pearls on his pillow. He did not ask questions, and seemingly no one of his household knew anything about the pearls. 

When the yogi asked Hunsa about the ruby, the Akbar Lamp, Hunsa, whohad determined to keep it himself, as, perhaps, a ransom for his lifein that troublous time, declared that in the turmoil of the coming ofthe soldiers he had not found it. Indeed this seemed reasonable, forhe, having fled down the road to the Gulab, had not been there whenthey had opened the box and looted it. 

So the Dewan sent for Ajeet, Hunsa and Sookdee, and declared that ifthe Bagree contingent of murder did not start at once for the Pindaricamp he would have them taken up for the decoity. 

It was Ajeet who answered the Dewan: "Dewan Sahib, we be men whoundertake all things in the favour of Bhowanee, and we make prayer tothat goddess. If the Dewan will give fifty rupees for our _pooja_, to-morrow we will make sacrifice to her, for without the feast and thesacrifice the signs that she would vouchsafe would be false. Then wewill take the signs and the men will go at once. "

"You shall have the money, " the Dewan declared: "but do not delay. "

That evening the Bagrees made their way to a mango grove for the feast, carrying cocoanuts, raw sugar, flour, butter, and a fragrant gum, goojul. A large hole was dug in the ground and filled with drycow-dung chips which were set on fire. Sweet cakes were baked on thefire and then broken into small pieces, a portion of the fire raked toone side, and their priest sprinkled upon it the fragrant gum, callingin a loud voice: "Maha Kali, assist and guide us in our expedition. Keep calamity from us who worship Thee, and have made this feast in Thyhonour. Give us the sign, that we may know if it is agreeable to Theethat we destroy the enemy of Maharaja Sindhia. "

When the Bagrees had eaten much cooked rice and meat-balls, which wereserved on plantain leaves, they drank robustly of _mhowa_ spirit, firstspilling some of this liquor upon the ground in the name of the goddess. 

The strong rank native liquor roused an enthusiasm for theirapproaching interview of the sacred one. Once Ajeet laid his hand uponthe pitcher that Hunsa was holding to his coarse lips, and pressing itdownward, admonished:

"Hunsa, whilst Bhowanee does not prohibit, it is an offence to approachher except in devout silence. "

The surly one flared up at this; his ungovernable rage drew his hand toa knife in his belt, and his eyes blazed with the ferocity of a woundedtiger. 

"Ajeet, " he snarled, "you are now Chief, but you are not Raja tocommand slaves. "

With a swift twist of his wrist Ajeet snatched the pitcher from thehand of Hunsa, saying: "Jamadar, it is the liquor that is in you, therefore you have had enough. "

But Hunsa sprang to his feet and his knife gleamed like the spitting offire in the slanting rays of the setting sun, as he drove viciously atthe heart of his Chief. There was a crash as the blade struck andpierced the matka which Ajeet still held by its long neck. 

There was a scream of terror from the throats of the women; a cry ofhorror from the Guru at this sacrilege--the spilling of liquor upon theearth in anger at the feast of Bhowanee. 

Ajeet's strong fingers, slim bronzed lengths of steel, had gripped thewrist of his assailant as Bootea, darting forward, laid a hand upon thearm of Hunsa, crying, "Shame! shame! You are like sweepers of lowcaste--eaters of carrion, they who respect not Bhowanee. Shame! youare a dog--a tapper of liquor!"

At the touch of the Gulab on his arm, and the scorn in her eyes, Hunsashivered and drew back, his head hanging in abasement, but his facedevilish in its malignity. 

Ajeet, taking a brass dish, poured water upon the hand that had grippedthe wrist of Hunsa, saying, "Thus I will cleanse the defilement. " Thenhe sat down upon his heels, adding: "Guru, holy one, repeat a prayer toappease Bhowanee, then we will go into the jungle and take theauspices. "

The Guru strode over to Hunsa, and holding out his thin skinny palmcommanded, "Jamadar, from you a rupee; and to-morrow I will put uponthe shrine of Kali cocoanuts and sweet-meats and marigolds as peaceofferings. "

Hunsa took from his loin cloth a silver coin and dropped it surlily inthe outstretched hand, sneering: "To Bhowanee you will give four annas, and you will feast to the value of twelve annas, for that is the way ofyour craft. The vultures always finish the bait when the tiger hasbeen slain. "

Soon the feathery lace work of bamboos beneath which they sat werewhispering to the night-wind that had roused at the dropping of thehuge ball of fire in the west, and the soft radiance of a gentle moonwas gilding with silver the gaunt black arms of a babool. Then thepriest said: "Come, jamadars, we now will go deeper into the silentplaces and listen for the voice of Bhowanee. "

He untangled from the posture of sitting his parchment-covered matterof bones, and carrying in one hand a brocaded bag of black velvet andin the other a staff, with bowed head and mutterings started deeperinto the jungle of cactus and slim whispering bamboo, followed byAjeet, Sookdee and Hunsa. Presently he stopped, saying, "Sit you in aline, brave chiefs, facing the great temple of Siva, which is in themountains of the East, so that the voice of Bhowanee coming out of thesilent places and from the mouth of the jackal or the jackass, shall beknown to be from the right or the left, for thus will be theinterpretation. "

The priest took his place in front of the jamadars, sitting with hisback to them, and placed upon the ground, first a white cloth ofcotton, and then the velvet bag, upon which rested a silver pickaxe. 

When Ajeet saw the pickaxe he said angrily: "That is the emblem ofthugs; we be decoits, not stranglers, Guru. "

"They are equal in honour with Bhowanee, " the Guru replied: "they slayfor profit, even as you do, and among you are those who are thugs, forI minister to both. "

Then the Guru buried his shrivelled skull in his thin hands and droopedforward in silent listening. Ajeet objected no more, and in the newsilence they could hear the shrill rasping of cicadae in the foliage ofa gigantic elephant-creeper, that, like a huge python, crawled its wayfrom branch to branch, sprawling across a dozen stately trees. Fromsomewhere beyond was a steady "tonk! tonk! tonk!"--like the beat ofwood against a hollow pipe--of the little green-plumaged coppersmithbird. A honey-badger came timorously creeping, his feet shuffling thefallen leaves, peered at the strange figures of the men, and, at themove of an arm, fled scurrying through the stillness with the noise ofsome great creature. 

Suddenly the jungle was stilled, even from the voice of the raspingcicadae; the leaves had ceased to whisper, for the wind had hushed. The devotees could hear the beating of their hearts in the strain ofwaiting for a manifestation from the dread goddess. The white-robedfigure of the Guru was like a shrivelled statue of alabaster where thefaint moon picked it out in blotches as the light filtered throughleaves above. 

Sookdee gasped in terror as just above them a tiny tree owl called, "Whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo!" as if he jeered. But Ajeet knew that that, intheir belief, was a sign of encouragement, meaning not overmuch, butnot an evil omen. From far off floated up on the dead night air thebelling note of a startled cheetal, and almost at once the harsh, grating, angry roar of a leopard, as though he had struck for thethroat of the stag and missed. These were but jungle voices, not inthe curriculum of their pantheistic belief, so the Guru and the Bagreessat in silence, and no one spoke. 

Then, the night carried the faint trembling moan of a jackal, as theGuru knew, a _female_ jackal, coming from a distance on the left. 

"Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo! Aye-aye! yi-yi-yi-yi!" the jackal wailed, the noterising to a fiendish crescendo; and then suddenly it hushed and therewas only a ghastly silence in the jungle depths. 

The white-clothed, ghost-like priest sprang to his feet, and with hislean left arm stretched high in suppliance, said: "Bhowanee, thou hastvouchsafed to thy devotees the _pilsao_. We will strew thy shrine withflowers and sweetmeats. "

He turned to the jamadars who had risen, saying, "Bhowanee is pleased;the suspicies are favourable; had the call of the jackal been from theright it would have been the _tibao_ and we should have had to waituntil the sweet goddess gave us another sign. Now we may go back, andperhaps she will confirm this omen as we go. "

Hunsa, always possessed of a mean disposition, and still sulky over theencounter with Ajeet, was in an evil mood as they trudged through thejungle to their camp. When Ajeet spoke of the priest's success in hisappeal, he snarled: "The hangman always advises the one who is to havehis neck stretched that he is better off dead. "

"What do you mean by that?" Ajeet queried. 

"Just that you are not going on this mission, Ajeet;" then he laugheddisagreeably. 

"If you are afraid to go Sookdee will be well without you, " Ajeetretorted. 

Before more could be said in this way, and as they approached the camp, the lowing of a cow was heard. 

"Dost hear that, Guru?" Hunsa queried. "In a decoity is not the lowingof a cow in a village held to be an evil omen?"

"Not so, Hunsa, " the Priest declared. "It is an evil omen if thedecoity is to be made on the village in which the cow raises her voice, but we are going to our own camp in peace, and it is a voice ofapproval. "

"As to that, " Ajeet commented, "if Hunsa is right, it is written in ourcode of omens that hearing a cow call thus simply means that one of theparty making the decoity will be killed; perhaps as he was the one tonotice it, the evil will fall upon him. "

"You'd like that, " Hunsa growled. 

"Not being given to lies, it would not displease me, for, as thehangman said, you would be better dead. "

But they were now at their camp, and the jamadars, standing togetherfor a little, settled it that the omens being favourable, and the wrathof the Dewan feared, they would take the way to the Pindari camp nextday. 

CHAPTER XIX

Dewan Sewlal had warned Hunsa and Sookdee against their naturalproclivities for making a decoity while travelling to the Pindari camp, as the mission was more important than loot--an enterprise that mightcause them to be killed or arrested. Indeed the Gulab had made this acondition of her going with them. She was practically put in command. Both Nana Sahib and the Dewan were pleased over what they deemed hersensible acquiescence in the scheme. As has been said, the Dewan, recognising the debased ferocity of Hunsa, had promised him the torturewhen he returned if Bootea had any cause of complaint. 

The decoit, believing that Bootea was designed for Nana Sahib's harem, knew that as one favoured in the Prince's eyes, he would surely be putto death if he offended her. 

So, travelling with the almost incessant swift progress which was anart with all decoits, in a few days they arrived at Rajgar, the town towhich Amir Khan had shifted. He had taken possession of a palacebelonging to the Rajput Raja as his head-quarters, and his army ofhorsemen were encamped in tents on the vast sandy plain that extendedfrom both sides of the river Nahal: the local name of this river was"The Stream of Blood, " so named because a fierce force of Arabmercenaries in the employ of Sindhia, many years before, had butcheredthe entire tribe of Nahals--man, woman, and child, --higher up in thehills. 

As had been planned, some of the decoits had come as recruits to thePindari standard. This created no suspicion, because free-lancesoldiers, adventurous spirits, from all over India flocked to a forcethat was known to be massed for the purpose of loot. It was an easyservice; little discipline; a regular Moslem fighting horde, holdinglittle in reverence but the daily prayer and the trim of a spear, orthe edge of a sword. Amir Khan was the law, the army regulation, theone thing to obey. As to the matter of prayers, for those who were notfollowers of the Prophet, who carried no little prayer carpet to kneelupon, face to Mecca, there was, it being a Rajput town, always theshrine of Shiva and his elephant-headed son, Ganesh, to receiveobeisance from the Hindus. And those who had come as players, wrestlers, were welcomed joyously, for, there being no immediate matterof a raid and throat-cutting, and little of disciplinary duties, timehung heavy on the hands of these grown-up children. 

Hunsa was remembered by several of the Pindaris as having ridden withthem before; and he also had suffered an apostacy of faith for he nowswore by the Beard of the Prophet, and turned out at the call of the_muezzin_, and testified to the fact that there was but one god--Allah. And he had known his Amir Khan well when he had told the Dewan that thefierce Pindari was gentle enough when it came to a matter of femininebeauty, for Bootea made an impression. 

Of course it would have taken a more obdurate male than Amir Khan tonot appreciate the exquisite charm of the Gulab; no art could haveequalled the inherent patrician simplicity and sweetness of her everythought and action. Perhaps her determination to ingratiate herselfinto the good graces of the Chief was intensified, brought to a finerperfection, by the motive that had really instigated her to accept thisterrible mission, her love for the Englishman, Barlow. 

Of course this was not an unusual thing; few women have lived who arenot capable of such a sacrifice for some one; the "grand passion, " whenit comes, and rarely out of reasoning, smothers everything in the heartof almost every woman--once. It had come to Bootea; foolishly, impossible of an attainment, everything against its ultimateaccomplished happiness, but nothing of that mattered. She was there, waiting--waiting for the service that Fate had whispered into her being. 

And she danced divinely--that is the proper word for it. Her dancingwas a revelation to Amir Khan who had seen _nautchnis_ go through theirsensuous, suggestive, voluptuous twistings of supple forms, disfiguredby excessive decoration--bangles, anklets, nose rings, high-colouredswirling robes, and with voices worn to a rasping timbre that shrilledrather than sang the _ghazal_ (love song) as they gyrated. But herewas something different. Bootea's art was the art that was taughtprincesses in the palaces of the Rajput Ranas, not the bidding of acourtesan for the desire of a man. Her dress was a floating cloud ofgauzy muslin: and her sole evident adornment the ruby-headed goldsnake-bracelet, the iron band of widowhood being concealed higher onher arm. Some intuition had taught the girl that this mode would giverise in the warrior's heart to a feeling of respectful liking: it hadalways been that way with real men where she was concerned. 

When Amir Kahn passed an order that Bootea was to be treated as aqueen, his officers smiled in their heavy black beards and whisperedthat his two wives would yet be hand-maidens to a third, the favourite. 

Hunsa saw all this, for he was the one that often carried a message tothe Gulab that her presence was desired in the palace. But there werealways others there; the players and the musicians--the ones who playedthe sitar (guitar) and the violin; and the officers. 

Hunsa was getting impatient. Every time he looked at the handsomeblack-bearded head of the warrior he was like a covetous thief gazingupon a diamond necklace that is almost within his grasp. He had comethere to kill him and delay was dangerous. He had been warned by theDewan that they suspected Barlow meant to visit the Chief on behalf ofthe British. He might turn up any day. When he spoke to Bootea abouther part in the mission, the enticing of Amir Khan to her tent so thathe might be killed, she simply answered:

"Hunsa, you will wait until I give you a command to kill the Chief. Ifyou do not, it is very likely that you will be the sacrifice, for he isnot one to be driven. " She vowed that if he broke this injunction shewould denounce him to Amir Khan; she would have done so at first butfor the idea that treachery to her people could not be justified but bydire necessity. 

Every day the Gulab, as she walked through the crowded street, scannedthe faces of men afoot and on horseback, looking for one clothed as aPatan, but in his eyes the something she would know, the something thatwould say he was the deified one. And she had told Amir Khan thatthere was a Patan coming with a message for him, and that when such anone asked for audience that he should say nothing, but see that he wasadmitted. 

Then one day--it was about two weeks of waiting--Captain Barlow came. He was rather surprised at the readiness with which he was admitted foran audience with the Chief. It was in the audience hall that he wasreceived, and the Chief was surrounded, as he sat on the Raja's dais, by officers. 

Barlow had come as Ayub Alli, an Afghan, and as it was a privateinterview he desired, he made the visit a formal one, the paying ofrespects, with the usual presenting of the hilt of his sword for theChief to touch with the tips of his fingers in the way of accepting hisrespects. 

The Chief, knowing this was the one Bootea had spoken of, wrote on aslip of yellow paper something in Persian and tendered it to Barlow, saying, "That will be your passport when you would speak with me ifthere is in your heart something to be said. "

Going, Barlow saw that he had written but the one word [Transcriber'snote: three Afghan or Persian characters], translated, "the Afghan. "

Hunsa, too, had watched for the coming of Barlow. The same whisperthat had come to Bootea's ears that he would ride as a Patan had beentold him by the Dewan. Knowing that when Barlow arrived he wouldendeavour to see the Chief in his quarters, Hunsa daily hovered nearthe palace and chatted with the guard at the gates; the heavy doubleteak-wood gates, on one side of which was painted, on a whitestone-wall, a war-elephant and the other side a Rajput horseman, hisspear held at the charge. This was the allegorical representation, sogeneral all over Mewar, of Rana Pertab charging a Mogul prince mountedon an elephant. 

Thus Hunsa had seen the tall Patan and heard him make the request foran audience with Amir Khan. It was the walk, the slight militaryprecision, that caused the decoit to mutter, "No hill Afghan that. "

And when Barlow had come forth the Bagree trailed him up through thechowk; and just as the man he followed came to the end of the narrowcrowded way, Hunsa saw Bootea, coming from the opposite direction, suddenly stop, and her eyes go wide as they were fixed on the face ofthe tall Patan. 

"It is the accursed Sahib, " Hunsa snarled between his grinding teeth. He brooded over the advent of the messenger and racked his animal brainfor some scheme to accomplish his mission of murder, and counteract theother's influence. And presently a bit of rare deviltry crept into hismind, joint partner with the murder thought. If he could but kill theChief and have the blame of it cast upon the Sahib, who, no doubt, would have his interviews with Amir Khan alone. 

During the time Hunsa had been there, several times in the palace, somewhat of a privileged character, known to be connected with theGulab, he had familiarised himself with the plan of the marblebuilding: the stairways that ran down to the central court; the manypassages; the marble fret-work screen niches and mysterious chambers. 

Either Hunsa or Sookdee was now always trailing Barlow--his every movewas known. And then, as if some evil genii had taken a spirit hand inthe guidance of events, Hunsa's chance came. Barlow, who had triedthree times to see Amir Khan, one day received a message at the gatethat he was to come back that evening, when the Chief, having said hisprayers, would give him a private audience. 

Hunsa had seen Barlow making his way from the _serai_ where he campedwith his horse toward the palace, and hurrying with the swift celerityof a jungle creature, he reached the gate first. His head wrapped inthe folds of a turban so that his ugly face was all but hidden, he wastalking to the guard when Barlow gave the latter his yellow slip ofpassport; and as the guard left his post and entered the dim entranceto call up the stairway for one to usher in the Afghan, Hunsa slippednonchalantly through the gate and stood in the shadow of a juttingwall, his black body and drab loin-cloth merging into the gloom. 

CHAPTER XX

"Is the one alone?" Amir Khan asked when a servant had presentedBarlow's yellow slip of paper. 

"But for the orderly that is with him. "

"Tell him to enter, and go where your ears will remain safe upon yourhead. "

The bearer withdrew and Captain Barlow entered, preceded by theorderly, who, with a deep salaam announced:

"Sultan Amir Khan, it is Ayub Alli who would have audience. " Then hestepped to one side, and stood erect against the wall. 

"Salaam, Chief, " Barlow said with a sweep of a hand to his forehead, and Amir Khan from his seat in a black ebony chair inlaid withpearl-shell and garnets, returned the salutation, asking: "And whatfavour would Ayub Alli ask?"

"A petition such as your servant would make is but for the ears of AmirKhan. "

The black eyes of the Pindari, deep set under the shaggy eyebrows, hungupon the speaker's face with the fierce watchful stab of a falcon's. 

Barlow saw the distrust, the suspicion. He unslung from his waist hisheavy pistol, took the _tulwar_ from the wide brass-studded belt abouthis waist, and tendered them to the orderly saying: "It is a message ofpeace but also it is alone for the ears of Amir Khan. "

The Pindari spoke to the orderly, "Go thou and wait below. "

When he had disappeared the Pindari rose from the ebon-wood chair, stretched his tall giant form, and laughed. "Thou art a seemly man, Ayub Alli, but thinkst thou that Amir Khan would have fear that thousendst thy playthings by the orderly?"

"No, Chief, it was but proper. And you will know that the message issuch that none other may hear it. "

"Sit on yonder divan, Afghan, and tell this large thing that is in thymind. "

As Barlow took a seat upon the divan covered by a red-and-greenBokharan rug, lifting his eyes suddenly, he was conscious of a mockingsmile on the Pindari's lips; and the fierce black eyes were watchinghis every move as he slipped a well-strapped sandal from a foot. Rising, he stepped to the table at one end of which the Pindari sat, and placing the sandal upon it, said: "If the Chief will slit thedouble sole with his knife he will find within that which I havebrought. "

"The matter of which you speak, Afghan, is service, and Amir Khan isnot one to perform a service of the hands for any one. "

"But if I asked for the Chief's knife, not having one--"

"_Inshalla_! but thou art right; if thou hadst asked for the knife thoumightst have received it, and not in the sandal, " he laughed. Thelaugh welled up from his throat through the heavy black beard like thebubble of a bison bull. 

The Pindari reached for the sandal, and as he slit at the leatherthread, he commented: "Thou hast the subtlety of a true Patan; within, I take it, is something of value, and if it were in a pocket of thyjacket, or a fold at thy waist, those who might seek it with one slitof their discoverer, which is a piece of broken glass carrying an edgesuch as no blade would have, would take it up. But a man's sandalswell strapped on are removed but after he is dead. "

"Bismillah!" The Pindari had the paper spread flat upon the blacktable and saw the seal of the British Raj. He seemed to ponder overthe document as if the writing were not within his interpretation. Then he said: "We men of the sword have not given much thought to thepen, employing scribblers for that purpose, but to-morrow a _mullah_will make this all plain. "

Barlow interrupted the Chief. "Shall I read the written word?"

"What would it avail? Hereon is the seal of the _Englay_ Raj, but asyou read the thumb of the Raj would not be upon your lip in the way ofa seal. The _mullah_ will interpret this to me. Is it of analliance?" he asked suddenly. 

"It is, Chief. "

The Pindari laughed: "Holker would give me a camel-load of gold rupeesfor this and thy head: Sindhia might add a province for the same. "

"True, Chief. And has Amir Khan heard a whisper of reward and a dressof honour from Sindhia's Dewan for his head?"

"Afghan, there is always a reward for the head of Amir Khan; but a giftis of little value to a man who has lost his life in the trying. Without are guards ready to run a sword through even a shadow, and hereI could kill three. "

He raised his black eyes and scanned the form of Ayub Alli. There wasa quizzical smile on his lips as he said:

"Go back and sit thee upon the divan. "

When Barlow had taken his place, the Chief laughed aloud, saying, "Welldone, Captain Sahib; thou art perfect as a Patan; even to the manner ofsitting down one would have thought that, except for a saddle, thouhadst always sat upon thy heels. "

Barlow smiled good humouredly, saying, "It is even so; I am CaptainBarlow. And this, "--he tapped the loose baggy trousers of the Afghanhillman, and the sheepskin coat with the wool inside--"was not in theway of deceit but for protection on the road. "

"It is well thought of, " the Pindari declared, "for a Sahib travellingalone through Rajasthan would be robbed by a Mahratta or killed by aRajput. But as to the deceiving of Amir Khan, dost thou suppose thathe gives to a Patan the paper of admittance, or of passing, such as hegave to thee. Even at the audience I was pleased with thy manner ofdisguise. "

Barlow was startled. "Did you know then that I was a Sahib--how didyou know?"

"Because thou wert placed in my hand in the way of protection. "

Then Barlow surmised that of all outside his own caste there could bebut one, and he knew that she was in the camp, for he had seen her. "It was a woman. "

"A rare woman; even I, Chief of the Pindaris--and we are not bred tosoftness--say that she is a pearl. "

"They call her the Gulab, " Barlow ventured. 

"She is well named the Gulab; the perfume of her is in my nostrilsthough it mixes ill with the camel smell. Without offence to Allah Ican retain her for it is in the Koran that a man may have four wivesand I have but two. "

"But the Gulab is of a different faith, " Barlow objected and a chillhung over his heart. 

The Pindari laughed. "The Sahibs have agents for the changing offaith, those who wear the black coat of honour; and a _mullah_ willsoon make a good Musselmani of the beautiful little infidel. Ofcourse, Sahib, there is the other way of having a man's desire which isthe way of all Pindaris; they consider women as fair loot when thesword is the passport through a land. But as to the Gulab, the floweris most too fair for a crushing. In such a matter as I have spoken ofthe fragrance is gone, and a man, when he crushes the weak, hasconflict with himself. "

"It's a topping old barbarian, this leader of cut-throats, " Barlowadmitted to himself; but in his mind was a horror of the fate meant forthe girl. And somehow it was a sacrifice for him, he knew, anenlargement of the love that had shown in the soft brown eyes. As helistened schemes of stealing the Gulab away, of saving her werehurtling through his brain. 

"And mark thee, Sahib, Amir Khan has found favour with the littleflower, for when I thought of an audience with her in her own tent--forto be a leader of men, in possession of two wives, and holding strongby the faith of Mahomet, it is as well to be circumspect--the Gulabwarned me that a knife might be presented as I slept. A jealous lover, perhaps, I think--it would not have been Ayub Alli by any chance?"

What Barlow was thinking, was, "A most subtle animal, this. " And henow understood why the Pindari, as if he had forgotten the message, wastalking of the Gulab; as an Oriental he was coming to the point incircles. 

"It was not, Chief, " Barlow answered. "A British officer on matters ofstate, would break his _izzat_ (honour) if he trifled with women. "

"Put thy hand upon thy beard, Afghan--though thou hast not one--andswear by it that it was not thee the woman meant when she spoke of aknife, for I like thee. "

Barlow put his hand to his chin. "I swear that there was nothing ofevil intent against Amir Khan in my heart, " he said; "and that is thesame as our oath, for it is but one God that we both worship. "

The Chief again let float from his big throat his low, deep, musicallaugh. 

"An oath is an oath, nothing more. To trust to it and go to sleep inits guardianship, one may never wake up. Even the gods cannot bind aheart that is black with words. It was one of my own name who swore onthe shrine of Eklinga at Udaipur friendship for a Prince of Marwar, andchanged turbans with him, which is more binding than eating opiumtogether, then slew him like a dog. Of my faith, an oath, 'by theBeard of the Prophet, ' is more binding, I think. Too many gods, suchas the men of Hind have, produce a wavering. But thou hast sworn tothe truth as I am a witness. The delay of an audience was that thoumightst be well watched before much had been said, for a child at playhides nothing, and if thou hadst gone but once to the tent of theGulab, Amir Khan would have known. 

"But as to this, "--his hand tapped the document--"it has been said thatthe British Raj doles out the lives of its servants as one doles grainin a time of famine. If an envoy, such as a Raja sends in a way ofpride, came with this, and were made a matter of sacrifice, perhapstwenty lives would have paid of the trying, but as it is, but one isthe account. "

Barlow shot a quick searching look into the Pindari's eyes; was it acovert threat? But he answered: "It is even so, it was spoken of as amatter for two, but--"

The Chief laughed: "I know, Sahib; thou art pleasing to me. Of theSahibs I have little knowledge, but I have heard it said they were arace of white Rajputs, save that they did not kill a brother or afather for the love of killing. What service want they of Amir Khan?"

"There are rumours that the Mahrattas, forgetting the lessons they havereceived--both Holkar and Sindhia having been thoroughly beaten by theBritish--are secretly preparing war. "

"A _johur_, a last death-rush, is it not?"

"They will be smashed forever, and their lands taken. "

"But the King of Oudh has been promised a return to glory to join inthis revolt. The fighting Rajputs--what of them? Backed by theEnglish they should hold these black accursed Mahrattas in check. "

Barlow rose and, the wary eyes of the Chief on every move, stepped overto the table and pointed to a signature upon the document. 

"That, " he said, "is the signature of the Rana of Mewar, meaning thathe also passes the salt of friendship to Amir Khan. "

He turned the document over, and there written upon it was the figure"74 1/2. "

"Bismillah!" the Chief cried for he had not noticed this before; "it isthe _tilac_, the Rana's sealing of the document; it is the mysticnumber that means that the contents are sacred, that the curse of theSack of Fort Chitor be upon him who violates the seal, it is the oathof all Rajputs--_tilac_, that which is forbidden. And the Sahibs haveheard a rumour that Amir Khan has a hundred thousand horsemen to cut inwith. Even Sindhia is afraid of me and desires my head. The Sahibshave heard and desire my friendship. "

"That is true, Chief. "

"This is the right way, " and the Pindari brought his palm down upon theGovernment message. "I have heard men say that the English were likechildren in the matter of knowing nothing but the speaking of truth; Ihave heard some laugh at this, accounting it easy to circumvent anenemy when one has knowledge of all his intentions, but truth isstrength. We have faith in children because they have not yet learnedthe art of a lie. In two days, Captain Sahib, thou wilt be called toan audience. " He rose from his chair, and, with a hand to his foreheadsaid: "Salaam, Sahib. May the protection of Allah be upon you!"

"Salaam, Chief, " Barlow answered, and he held out a hand with a boyishfrankness that caused the Pindari to grasp it, and the two stood, twomen looking into each other's eyes. 

"Go thou now, Sahib; thou art a man. Go alone and with quiet, for Iwould view this message and put it in yonder strong box before othersenter. "

CHAPTER XXI

When Captain Barlow had gone Amir Khan took up the message and read it. Once he chuckled, for it was in his Oriental mind that the deceiving ofBarlow as to his knowledge of writing was rather a joke. Once as heread the heavy silk _purdah_ of the door swayed a little at one side asif a draught of wind had shifted it and an evil face appeared in theopening. 

Presently he rose from his chair, took the lamp in one hand and thepaper in the other, and crossed to the iron box in a far corner of theroom. He set the flickering light upon the floor, and dropping to hisknees, drew from his waistband a silver chain, at the end of which werehis seal and keys. His broad shoulders blanked the tiny cone of light, and behind through a marble fretwork, a delicate tracery of lotusflowers that screened the window, trickled cold shafts of moonlightthat fell upon something evil that wriggled across the white and blackslabs of marble from beneath the door curtain. The moonlight glistenedthe bronze skin of the silent, crawling thing that was a huge snake, ora giant centipede; it was even like a square-snouted, shovel-headed_mugger_ that had crept up out of the slimy river that circledsluggishly the eastern wall of the palace. 

Once as Amir Khan fitted a key in the lock he checked and knelt, assilent, as passive as a bronze Buddha, listening; and the creepingthing was but a blur, a shadow without movement, silent. Then heraised the lid of the box and paused, holding it with his right hand, the flickering light upon his bronze face showing a smile as his eyesdwelt lovingly upon the gold and jewels within. 

And again the thing crept, or glided, not even a slipping purr, noiseless, just a drifting shadow; only where a ribbon of moonlightfrom between a lotus and a leaf picked it out was the brown thing ofevil marked against the marble. Then the divan blurred it from sight. From behind the divan to the ebony chair, and the wide black-toppedtable the shadow drifted; and when Amir Khan had clanged the iron lidclosed, and risen, lamp in hand, there was nothing to catch his eye. 

He placed the lamp that was fashioned like a lotus upon the table, anddropping into his chair, yawned sleepily. Then he raised his voice tocall his bearer:

"Abd--"

The name died on his lips, for the brown thing behind the chair hadslipped upward with the silent undulation of a panther, and a deadly_roomal_ (towel) had flashed over the Chief's head and was now astrangling knot about his tawny throat; the hard knuckles of Hunsa werekneading his spine at the back of the skull with a half twist of thecloth. He was pinioned to the back of the chair; he was in a vise, thejaws of which closed his throat. Just a stifled gurgle escaped fromhis lips as his hand clutched at a dagger hilt. The muscles of thenaked brown body behind stood out in knobs of strength, and the face ofthe strangler, pan-reddened teeth showing in the flickering light as ifthey had bitten into blood, was the face of a ghoul. 

The powerful Pindari struggled in smothering desperation; and Hunsa, twisting the gorilla hands, sought in vain to break the neck--it wastoo strong. 

Then the chair careened sidewise, and the Pindari shot downward, hisforehead striking a marble slab, stunning him. Hunsa, with thedeath-grip still on the roomal, planted a knee between the victim'sshoulder-blades, and jerked the head upward--still the spine did notsnap; and slowly tightening the pressure of the cloth he smothered theman beneath his knee till he felt the muscles go slack and the body lielimp--dead!

Then Hunsa crossed the _roomal_ in his left hand, and stretching outhis right grasped the Chief's dagger where it lay upon the floor, anddrove it, from behind, through his heart. He placed the knife upon thefloor where drops of blood, trickling from its curved point, lay uponthe white marble like spilled rubies. He unfastened the silver chainthat carried the keys and crossed the floor with the slouching crouchof a hyena. Rapidly he opened the iron box, took the paper Amir Khanhad placed there, and hesitated for a second, his ghoulish eyesgloating over the jewels and gold; but he did not touch them, hisanimal cunning holding him to the simple plan that was now working sosmoothly. He locked the box and slipped the key-chain about the deadman's waist; then seizing the right hand of his victim he smeared thethumb in blood and imprinted it upon the paper just beside the seal ofthe British Raj, muttering: "This will do for Nana Sahib as well asyour head, Pindari, and is much easier hidden. "

He placed the paper in a roll of his turban, blew out the flickeringlight, and with noiseless bare feet glided cautiously to the door. The_purdah_ swung back and there was left just the silent room, all dark, save for little trickles of silver that dropped spots and grotesquelines upon the body of the dead Chief. It fell full upon the knifeflooding its blade into a finger-like mirror, and glinted the blooddrops as if in reality they had turned to rubies. Without the _purdah_Hunsa did not crouch and run, he walked swiftly, though noiselessly, asone upon a message. Ten paces of the dim-lighted hall he turned to theright to a balcony. 

Here at the top of a narrow winding stone stairway Hunsa listened; nosound came from below, and he glided down. Beneath was a balconycorresponding with the one above, and just beyond was a domed cell thathe had investigated. It was a cell that at one time had witnessed thequick descent of headless bodies to the river below. A teakwood beamwith a round hole in the centre spanned the cell just above an openingthat had all the appearance of a well. Hunsa had investigated thisexit for this very purpose, for he had been somewhat of a privilegedcharacter about the palace. 

He now unslung from about his waist, hidden by his baggy trousers, astrong, fine line of camel hair. Making one end fast to the teakwoodsill he went down hand over hand, his strong hard palms gripping thesoft line. At the end of it he still had a drop of ten or twelve feet, but bracing his shoulders to one wall and his feet to the other he letgo. Hunsa was shaken by his drop of a dozen feet, but the soft sand ofthe river bed had broken the shock of his fall. He picked himself up, and crouching in the hiding shadow of the bank hurried along for fiftyyards; then he clambered up cautiously to the waste of white sand thatwas studded with the tents of the Pindari horsemen. On his right, floating up the hill in terraces, its marble white in the moonlight, was the palace where Amir Khan lay dead. It still held a sombrequietude; the murder had not been discovered. 

He had mapped this route out carefully in the day and knew just how toavoid the patrolling guards, and he was back in the narrow _chouk_ ofthe town that was a struggling stream of swaggering Pindaris, anddarker skinned Marwari bunnias and shopkeepers. Hunsa pushed his waythrough this motley crowd and continued on to the gate of the palace. 

To the guard who halted him he said: "If the other who went up to seethe Chief has gone, I would go now, _meer_ sahib. As I have said, itis a message from the Gulab Begum. "

"I looked for you when I returned from above, " the guard answered, "butyou had gone. The Afghan has gone but a little since--stay you here. "

He called within, "Yacoub!"

It was the orderly who had conducted Barlow to Amir Khan who answered, and to him the guard said: "Go to the Chief's apartment and say thatone waits here with word from the favourite. "

Hunsa sat down nonchalantly upon a marble step, and drew the guard intoa talk of raids, explaining that he had ridden once upon a time withChitu, on his foray into the territory of the Nizam. 

CHAPTER XXII

Hunsa had come back to the palace in haste so that the murder of AmirKhan might be discovered soon after Captain Barlow had left, and thatthe crime might be fastened upon the Sahib. As he waited, chatting tothe guard, there was suddenly a frenzied deep-throated call of alarmfrom the upper level of rooms that was answered by other voices hereand there crying out; there was the hurrying scuffling of feet on themarble stairs, and Yacoub appeared, his eyes wide in fright, crying:

"The Chief has been stabbed! he's dead! he's murdered! Guard thedoor--let no one out--let no one in!"

"Beat the _nakara_, " the guard commanded; "raise the alarm!"

He seized his long-barrelled matchlock, blew on the fuse, and pointingup toward the moonlit sky, fired. Just within, in a little court, Yacoub, with heavy drum-stick, was pounding from the huge drum athunderous vibrant roar, and somebody at his command had seized a horn, and from its copper throat a strident shriek of alarm split the air. 

The narrow street was now one surging mass of excited Pindaris. Withtheir riding whips they slashed viciously at any one other than theirown soldier caste that ventured near, driving them out, crying: "Thisis alone for the Pindaris!"

A powerful, whiskered jamadar pushed his way through the mob, throwingmen to the right and left with sweeps of his strong arm, and, reachingthe guard, was told that Amir Khan lay up in his room, murdered. Thenan _hazari_ (commander of five thousand) came running and pushedthrough the throng that the full force of the tragedy held almostsilent. 

The guard saluted, saying: "Commander Kassim, the Chief has been slain. "

"How--who?"

"I know not, Commander. "

"Who has passed the guard here?"

"But one, the Afghan, who was expected by the Chief. He went forth butlately. "

"A Patan!" Kassim roared. "Trust a woman and a snake but not a Patan. "He turned to the whiskered jamadar: "Quick, go you with men and bringthe Afghan. " To another he said, "Command to enter from there"--hishand swept the mob in front--"a dozen trusty _sowars_ and flood thepalace with them. Up, up; every room, every nook, every place ofhiding; under everything, and above everything, and through everything, search. Not even let there be exemption of the seraglio--murder lurksclose to women at all times. Seize every servant that is within andbind him; let none escape. "

He swept a hand out toward the Pindaris in the street that were like apack of wolves: "Up the hill--surround the palace! and guard everywindow and rat-run!"

The guard saluted, venturing: "Commander, none could have entered fromoutside to do the foul deed. "

"Liar! lazy sleeper!"--he smashed with his foot the _hookah_ that saton the marble floor, its long stem coiled like a snake--"While youbusied over such, and opium, one has slipped by. "

He reached out a powerful hand and seized the shoulder of a Pindari andjerked him to the step, commanding: "Stay here with this monkey of thetall trees, and see that none pass. I go to the Chief. When theAfghan comes have him brought up. "

Hunsa had stood among the Pindaris, shoved hither and thither as theysurged back and forth. Once the flat of a _tulwar_ had smote himacross the back, but when he turned his face to the striker whorecognised him as a man of privilege, one of the amusers, he wasallowed to remain. 

The startling cry, "The Chief has been murdered! the Sultan is dead!"swept out over the desert sand that lay white in the moonlight, and thenight air droned with the hum of fifty thousand voices that was likethe song of a world full of bees. And the night palpitated with thebeat of horses' feet upon the hard sand and against the stony ford ofthe parched river as the Pindari horsemen swept to Rajgar as if theyrode in the sack of a city. 

Hoarse bull-throated cries calling the curse of Allah upon the murdererwere like a deep-voiced hymn of hate--it was continuous. 

The _bunnias_, and the oilmen, and the keepers of cookshops hid theirwares and crept into dark places to hide. The flickering oil lampswere blotted out; but some of the Pindaris had fastened torches totheir long spears, and the fluttering lights waved and circled likeshooting stars. 

Rajgar was a Shoel; it was as if from the teak forests and the junglesof wild mango had rushed its full holding of tigers, and leopards, andelephants, and screaming monkeys. 

Soon a wedge of cavalry, a dozen wild-eyed horsemen, pushed their waythrough the struggling mob, at their head the jamadar bellowing: "Makeway--make the road clean of your bodies. "

"They bring the Afghan!" somebody cried and pointed to where Barlow satstrapped to the saddle of his Beluchi mare. 

"It is the one who killed the Chief!" another yelped; and the criesrippled along from mouth to mouth; _tulwars_ flashed in the light ofthe lurid torches as they swept upward at the end of long armsthreateningly; but the jamadar roared: "Back, back! you're like jackalssnapping and snarling. Back! if the one is killed how shall we knowthe truth?"

One, an old man, yelled triumphantly: "Allah be praised! a wisdom--awisdom! The torture; the horse-bucket and the hot ashes! The jamadarwill have the truth out of the Afghan. Allah be praised! it is awisdom!"

At the gate straps were loosed and Barlow was jerked to the marblesteps as if he had been a blanket stripped from the horse's back. 

"It is _the_ one, Jamadar, " the guard declared, thrusting his face intoBarlow's; "it is the Afghan. Beyond doubt there will be blood upon hisclothes--look to it, Jamadar. "

"We found the Afghan in the _serai_, and he was attending to his horseas if about to fly; beyond doubt he is the murderer of our Chief, " onewho had ridden with the jamadar said. 

"Bring the murderer face to face with his foul deed, " the jamadarcommanded; and clasped by both arms, pinioned, Barlow was pushedthrough the gate and into the dim-lighted hall. In the scuffle of thepassing Hunsa sought to slip through, impelled by a devilishfascination to hear all that would be said in the death-chamber. Ifthe case against the Sahib were short and decisive--perhaps they mightslice him into ribbons with their swords--Hunsa would then have nothingto fear, and need not attempt flight. 

But the guard swept him back with the butt of his long smooth-bore, crying: "Dog, where go you?" Then he saw that it was Hunsa, themessenger of his Chiefs favourite--as he took the Gulab to be--and hesaid: "You cannot enter, Hunsa. It is a matter for the jamadars alone. "

At that instant the Gulab slipped through the struggling groups in thestreet, the Pindaris gallantly making way for her. She had heard ofthe murder of the Chief, and had seen the dragging in of the Afghan. 

"Let me go up, guard, " she pleaded. 

"It is a matter for men, " he objected. "The jamadar would be angry, and my sword and gun would be taken away and I should be put to scrubthe legs of horses if I let you pass. "

"The jamadar will not be angry, " she pleaded, "for there is somethingto be said which only I have knowledge of. It was spoken to me by theChief, he had fear of this Afghan, and, please, in the name of Allah, let Hunsa by, for being alone I have need of him. "

The soft dark eyes pleaded stronger than the girl's words, and theguard yielded, half reluctantly. To the young Pindari he said, "Go youwith these two, and if the jamadar is for cutting off their heads, saythat those in the street pulled me from the door-way, and these slippedthrough; I have no fancy for the compliment of a sword on my neck. "

In the dim hallway two men stood guarding the door to the Chief'schamber, and when the man who had taken the Gulab up explained hermission, one of them said, "Wait you here. I will ask of Kassim hispleasure. " Presently he returned; "The Commander will see the womanbut if it is a matter of trifling let the penalty fall upon the guardbelow. The mingling of women in an affair of men is an abomination inthe sight of Allah. "

When Bootea entered the chamber she gave a gasping cry of horror. TheChief lay upon the floor, face downward, just as he had dropped whenslain, for Kassim had said; "Amir Khan is dead, may Allah take him tohis bosom, and such things as we may learn of his death may help us toavenge our Chief. Touch not the body. "

Her entrance was not more than half observed, for Kassim at that momentwas questioning the Afghan, who stood, a man on either side of him, andtwo behind. 

He was just answering a question from the Commander and was saying: "Ileft your Chief with the Peace of Allah upon both our heads, for hegripped my hand in fellowship, and said that we were two men. Whyshould I slay one such who was veritably a soldier, who was a followerof Mahomet?"

The man who had brought Barlow up to Amir Khan when he came for theaudience, said: "Commander, I left this one, the Afghan, here with theChief and took with me his sword and the short gun; he had no weapons. "

"Inshalla! it was but a pretence, " the Commander declared; "a pretenceto gain the confidence of the Chief, for he was slain with his ownknife. It was a Patan trick. "

The Commander turned to the Afghan: "Why hadst thou audience with theChief alone and at night here--what was the mission?"

Barlow hesitated, a slight hope that might save his own life would beto declare himself as a Sahib, and his mission; but he felt sure thatthe Chief had been murdered because of this very thing, that somebody, an agent of Nana Sahib, had waited hidden, had killed the Chief andtaken the paper. To speak of it would be to start a rumour that wouldrun across India that the British had negotiated with the Pindaris, andif the paper weren't found there--which it wouldn't be--he wouldn't bebelieved. Better to accept the roll of the dice as they lay, that hehad lost, and die as an Afghan rather than as an Englishman, a spy whohad killed their Chief. 

"Speak, Patan, " Kassim commanded; "thou dwellest overlong upon somelie. "

"There was a mission, " Barlow answered; "it was from my own people, thepeople of Sind. "

"Of Sindhia?"

"No; from the land of Sind, Afghanistan. We ride not with theMahrattas; they are infidels, while we be followers of the trueProphet. "

"Thou art a fair speaker, Afghan. And was there a sealed message?"

"There was, Commander Sahib. "

"Where is it now?"

"I know not. It was left with Amir Khan. "

There was a hush of three seconds. Then Kassim, whose eye had searchedthe room, saw the iron box. "This has a bearing upon matters, " hedeclared; "this affair of a written message. Open the box and see ifit is within, " he commanded a Pindari. 

"How now, woman, " for the Gulab had stepped forward; "what dost thouhere--ah! there was talk of a message from the Chief. It might be, itmight be, because, "--his leonine face, full whiskered, the face of awild rider, a warrior, softened as he looked at the slightfigure, --"our noble Chief had spoken soft words of thee, and passed theorder that thou wert Begum, that whatsoever thou desired was to be. "

"Commander, " Bootea said, and her voice was like her eyes, trembling, vibrant, "let me look upon the face of Amir Khan; then there are thingsto be said that will avenge his death in the sight of Allah. "

Kassim hesitated. Then he said; "It matters not--we have the killer. "And reverently, with his own hands, he turned the Chief on his back, saying, softly, "In the name of Allah, thou restest better thus. "

The Gulab, kneeling, pushed back the black beard with her hand, andthey thought that she was making oath upon the beard of the slain man. Then she rose to her feet, and said: "There is one without, Hunsa, bring him here, and see that there is no weapon upon him. "

Kassim passed an order and Hunsa was brought, his evil eyes turningfrom face to face with the restless query of a caged leopard. 

"There is no paper, Commander Sahib, " the jamadar said, returning fromhis search of the iron-box. 

"There was none such, " Kassim growled; "it was but a Patan lie; themessage is yonder, " and he pointed to the smear of blood upon themarble floor. 

Then he turned to Bootea: "Now, woman, speak what is in thy mind, forthis is an affair of action. "

"Commander Sahib, " Bootea began, "yonder man, "--and she pointed a slimhand toward Barlow--"is not an Afghan, he is a Sahib. "

This startling announcement filled the room with cries of astonishmentand anger; _tulwars_ flashed. Barlow shivered; not because of theimpending danger, for he had accepted the roll of the dice, but at thethought that Bootea was betraying him, that all she had said and donebefore was nothing--a lie, that she was an accomplice in this murder ofthe Chief, and was now giving the Pindaris the final convincing proof, the reason. 

To deny the revelation was useless; they would torture him, and he wasto die anyway; better to die claiming to be a _messenger_ from theBritish rather than as one sent to murder the Chief. 

Kassim bellowed an order subduing the tumult; then he asked: "What artthou, a Patan, or as the woman says, an Englay?"

"I am a Sahib, " Barlow answered; "a Captain in the British service, andcame to your Chief with a written message of friendship. "

Kassim pointed to the blood on the floor: "Thou wert a good messenger, infidel; thou hast slain a follower of the Prophet. "

But Bootea raised a slim hand, and, her voice trembling with intensity, cried: "Commander, Amir Khan was not slain with the dagger, he waskilled by the _towel_. Look you at his throat and you will see themark. "

"Bismillah!" came in a cry of astonishment from the Commander's throat, and the marble walls of the _Surya-Mahal_ (room of audience) echoedgasps and curses. Kassim himself had knelt by the dead Chief, and nowrising, said: "By Allah! it is true. That dog--" his finger wasthrusting like a dagger at Barlow. 

But Bootea's clear voice hushed the rising clamour: "No, Commander, thesahibs know not the thug trick of the _roomal_, and few thugs couldhave overcome the Chief. "

"Who then killed him--speak quick, and with the truth, " Kassimcommanded. 

He was interrupted by one of Hunsa's guards, crying: "Here, where goyou--you had not leave!" And Hunsa, who had turned to slip away, wasjerked back to where he had stood. 

"It is that one, " Bootea declared, sweeping a hand toward Hunsa. "About his waist is even now the yellow-and-white _roomal_ that is theweapon of Bhowanee. With that he killed Amir Khan. Take it from him, and see if there be not black hairs from the beard of the Chief in itssoft mesh. "

"By the grace of Allah it is a truth!" the Commander ejaculated whenthe cloth passed to him had been examined. "It is a revelation such ascame to Mahomet, and out of the mouth of a woman. Great is Allah!"

"Will the Commander have Hunsa searched for the paper the Sahib hasspoken of?" Bootea asked. 

"In his turban--" Kassim commanded--"in his turban, the nest of athief's loot or the hiding-place of the knife of a murderer. Look yein his turban!"

As the turban was stripped from the head of Hunsa the Pindari gave it awhirling twist that sent its many yards of blue muslin streaming outlike a ribbon and the parchment message fell to the floor. 

"Ah-ha!" and a man, stooping, thrust it into the hands of the Commander. 

The Pindari who held the turban, threw it almost at the feet of Bootea, saying, "Methinks the slayer will need this no more. "

Bootea picked up the blue cloth and rolled it into a ball, saying, "Ifit is permitted I will take this to those who entrusted Hunsa with thisfoul mission to show them that he is dead. "

"A clever woman thou art--it is a wise thought; take it by all means, for indeed that dog's head will need little when they have finishedwith him, " the soldier agreed. 

Kassim had taken the written paper closer to the light. At sight ofthe thumb blood-stain upon the document, he gave a bellow of rage. "Look you all!" he cried holding it spread out in the light of thelamp; "here is our Chief's message to us given after he was dead; hesealed it with his thumb in his own blood, after he was dead. Amiracle, calling for vengeance. Hunsa, dog, thou shalt die forhours--thou shalt die by inches, for it was thee. "

Kassim held the paper at arm's length toward Barlow, asking: "Is thisthe message thou brought?"

"It is, Commander. "

Kassim whirled on Hunsa, "Where didst thou get it, dog of an infidel?"

"Without the gate of the palace, my Lord. I found it lying there wherethe Sahib had dropped it in his flight. "

"Allah! thou art a liar of brazenness. " He spoke to a Jamadar: "Havebrought the leather nosebag of a horse and hot ashes so that we maycome by the truth. "

Then Kassim held the parchment close to the lamp and scanned it. Herubbed a hand across his wrinkled brow and pondered. "Beside the sealhere is the name, Rana Bhim, " and he turned his fierce eyes on Barlow. 

"Yes, Commander; the Rana has put his seal upon it that he will joinhis Rajputs with the British and the Pindaris to drive from MewarSindhia--the one whose Dewan sent Hunsa to slay your Chief. "

"Thou sayest so, but how know I that Hunsa is not in thy hand, and thatthou didst not prepare the way for the killing? Here beside the nameof the Rana is drawn a lance; that suggests an order to kill, a secretorder. " He turned to a sepoy, "Bring the Rajput, Zalim. "

While they waited Bootea said: "It was Nana Sahib who sent Hunsa andthe decoits to slay Amir Khan, because he feared an alliance betweenthe Chief and the British. "

"And thou wert one of them?"

"I came to warn Amir Khan, and--"

"And what, woman--the decoits were your own people?"

"Yonder Sahib had saved my life--saved me from the harem of Nana Sahib, and I came to save his life and your Chief's. "

Now there was an eruption into the chamber; men carrying a great pot ofhot ashes, and one swinging from his hand the nosebag of a horse; andwith them the Rajput. 

"Here, " Kassim said, addressing the Hindu, "what means this spear uponthis document? Is it a hint to drive it home?"

The Rajput put his fingers reverently upon the Rana's signature. "That, Commander, is the seal, the sign. I am a Chondawat, and belongto the highest of the thirty-six tribes of Mewar, and that sign of thelance was put upon state documents by Chonda; it has been since thattime--it is but a seal. Even as that, "--and Zalim proudly swung a longarm toward the wall where a huge yellow sun embossed on gypsumrested--"even that is an emblem of the Children of the Sun, theSesodias of Mewar, the Rana. "

"It is well, " Kassim declared; "as to this that is in the message, to-morrow, with the aid of a mullah, we will consider it. And now asto Hunsa, we would have from him the truth. "

He turned to the Gulab; "Go thou in peace, woman, for our dead Chiefhad high regard for thee; and Captain Sahib, even thou may go to thyabode, not thinking to leave there, however, without coming to paysalaams. Thou wouldst not get far. "

CHAPTER XXIII

When the two had gone Kassim clapped his hands together: "Now then forthe ordeal, the search for truth, " he declared. 

Hot wood-ashes were poured into the horse-bag, and, protesting, cursing, struggling, the powerful Bagree was dragged to the centre ofthe room. 

"Who sent thee to murder Amir Khan?" Kassim asked. 

"Before Bhowanee, Prince, I did not kill him!"

At a wave of Kassim's hand upward the bag of ashes was clapped over thedecoit's head, and he was pounded on the back to make him breathe inthe deadly dust. Then the bag was taken off, and gasping, reeling, hewas commanded to speak the truth. Once Kassim said: "Dog, this is butgentle means; torches will be bound to thy fingers and lighted. Thelast thing that will remain to thee will be thy tongue, for we haveneed of that to utter the truth. "

Three times the nosebag was applied to Hunsa, like the black cap overthe head of a condemned murderer, and the last time, rolling on thefloor in agony, his lungs on fire, his throat choked, his eyes searinglike hot coals, he gasped that he would confess if his life were spared. 

"Dog!" Kassim snarled, "thy life is forfeit, but the torture willcease; it is reward enough--speak!"

But the Bagree had the obstinate courage of a bulldog; the nerves ofhis giant physical structure were scarce more vibrant than those of abull; as to the torture it was but a question of a slower death. Buthis life was something to bargain for. Half dead from the choking ofhis lungs, with an animal cunning he thought of this; it was the onedominant idea in his numbed brain. As he lay, his mighty chest pumpingits short staccato gasps, Commander Kassim said: "Bring the dog of aninfidel water that he may tell the truth. "

When water had been poured down the Bagree's throat, he rolled hisbloodshot eyes beseechingly toward the Commander, and in a voice scarcebeyond a hoarse whisper, said: "If you do not kill me, Prince, I willtell what I know. "

"Tell it, dog, then die in peace, " Kassim snarled. 

But Hunsa shook his gorilla head, and answered, "Bhowanee help me, Iwill not tell. If I die I die with my spirit cast at thy shrine. "

Kassim stamped his foot in rage; and a jamadar roared: "Tie the torchesto the infidel's fingers; we will have the truth. "

Half-a-dozen Pindaris darted forward, and poised in waiting for thecommand to bind to the fingers of the Bagree oil-soaked torches; butKassim moved them back, and stood, his brow wrinkled in pondering, hisblack eyes sullenly fixed on the face of the Bagree. Then he said:"What this dog knows is of more value to our whole people, consideringthe message that has been brought, than his worthless life that is butthe life of a swine. "

He took a turn pacing the marble floor, and with his eyes called ajamadar to one side. "These thugs, when they cast themselves in theprotection of Kali, die like fanatics, and this one is but an animal. Torture will not bring the truth. Mark you, Jamadar, I will make thecompact with him. Do not lead an objection, but trust me. "

"But the dead Chief, Commander--?"

"Yes, because of him; he loved his people. And the knowledge that yondog has he would not have sacrificed. "

"But is Amir Khan to be unavenged?" the jamadar queried. 

"Allah will punish yonder infidel for the killing of one of the truefaith. Go and summon the officers from below and we will decide uponthis. "

Soon a dozen officers were in the room, and the sowars were sent away. Then Kassim explained the situation saying: "A confession brought forthby torture is often but a lie, the concoction of a mind crazed withpain. If this dog, who has more courage than feeling, sees the chanceof his life he will tell us the truth. "

But they expostulated; saying that if they let him go free it would bea blot upon their name. 

"The necessity is great, " Kassim declared, "and this I am convinced isthe only way. We may leave his punishment to Allah, for Allah isgreat. He will not let live one so vile. "

Finally the others agreed with Kassim who said that he would take thefull onus upon himself for not slaying the murderer, that if there wereblame let it be upon his head. Then he spoke to Hunsa: "This has beendecided upon, dog, that if thou confess, reveal to us information thatis of value to our people, the torture shall cease, and no man's headin the whole Pindari camp shall be raised against thee either to woundor take thy life. "

"But the gaol, Hazari Sahib?"

"No, dog, if thou but tell the truth in full, that we may profit, to-morrow thou may go free, and if any man in the camp wounds thee hislife will pay for it. Till noon thou may have for the going; even foodfor thy start on the way back to the land of thy accursed tribe. Bythe Beard of the Prophet no man of all the Pindari force shall woundthee. Now speak quick, for I have given a pledge. "

There were murmurs amongst the jamadars at Kassim's terms, for theirhearts were full of hate for the creature who had slain their lovedchief. But Kassim was a man famous for his intelligence. In all thecouncils Amir Khan had been swayed by the Hazari's judgment. It was anaccursed price to pay, they felt, but the Chief was dead; to kill hisslayer perhaps was not as great a thing as to have Hunsa's confessionwritten and attested to. All that vast horde of fierce riding Pindarisand Bundoolas had been gathered by Amir Khan with the object of being apower in the war that was brewing--the war in which the Mahrattas werestriving for ascendency, and the British massing to crush the Mahrattahorde. It had been Amir Khan's policy to strike with the winningforce; perhaps his big body of hard-riding _sowars_ being the verypower that would throw the odds to one or other of the contenders. Their reward would be loot, unlimited loot, so dear to the heart of thePindari, and an assignment of territory. To know, beyond doubt, whohad instigated the murder of the Chief was precious knowledge. Itmight be, as the Gulab had said, Sindhia's Dewan, but there was theEnglish officer there at that time; and the message of friendship mayhave been a message of deceit and the true object the slaying of AmirKhan who was looked upon as a great leader. 

Hunsa had lain watching furtively the effect of the Commander's wordsupon the others; now he said, "I will tell the truth, Hazari, for thouhast given a promise in the name of Allah that I am free of death atthe hands of thy people. "

"Wait, dog of an infidel!" Kassim commanded: "quick, call the _Mullah_to write the confession, for this is a sin to be washed out in muchblood, and the proof must be at hand so the guilty will have no pleafor mercy. Also it is a matter of secrecy; we here being officers willhave it on our honour, and the _Mullah_, because of his priesthood, will not speak of it: also he will bear witness of its sanctity. "

Soon a Pindari announced, "Commander Sahib, here is the holy one, " andat a word from Kassim the priest unrolled his sheets of yellow paper, and sitting cross-legged upon a cushion with a salaam to the deadChief, dipped his quill in a little ink-horn and held it poised. 

Then Hunsa, his eyes all the time furtively watching the scowling facesabout him; fear and distrust in his heart over the gift of his life, but impelled by his knowledge that it was his only chance, narrated thestory of Nana Sahib and the Dewan's scheme to rid the Mahrattas of theleader they feared, Amir Khan; told that they knew that the Britishwere sending overtures for an alliance, but that fearing to kill themessenger--unless it could be done so secretly it would never bediscovered--they had determined to remove the Chief. When he spoke ofthe other Bagrees, Kassim realised that in the excitement of fixing themurder upon one there they had forgotten his troop associates, and ahurried order was passed for their capture. 

Of course it was too late; the others, at the first alarm, had slippedaway. 

When the confession was finished Kassim commanded the _Mullah_ to rubhis cube of India ink over the thumb of the decoit and the mark wasimprinted on the paper. Then he was taken to one of the cave cells cutout of the solid rock beneath the palace, and imprisoned for the night. 

"Come, Jamadars, " Kassim said--and his voice that had been so coarseand rough now broke, and sobs floated the words scarce articulate--"andreverently let us lay Amir Khan upon his bed. Then, though there be nocall of the _muezzin_, we will kneel here; even without our prayercarpets, and pray to Allah for the repose of the soul of a trueMusselman and a great warrior. May his rest be one of peace!"

He passed his hand lovingly over the face of the Chief and down hisbeard, and his strong fearless eyes were wet. 

Then Amir Khan was lifted by the Jamadars and carried to a bed in theroom that adjoined the _surya mahal_. 

When they had risen from their silent prayer, Kassim said: "Go ye toyour tents. I will remain here with the guard who watch. "

CHAPTER XXIV

Captain Barlow and Bootea had gone from the scene of the murder throughthe long dim-lighted hall, its walls broken here and there by niches ofmystery, some of them closed by marble fretwork screens that might havebeen doors, and down the marble stairway, in silence. Barlow hadslipped a hand under her arm in the way of both a physical and mentalsustaining; his fingers tapped her arm in affectionate approbation. Once he muttered to himself in English, "Splendid girl!" and notcomprehending, the Gulab turned her star-eyes upward to his face. 

At the gate the soldier who had accompanied them spoke to the guard, and the latter, standing on a step bellowed: "Ho, ye Pindaris, heregoes forth the Afghan in innocence of the foul crime! Above they havethe slayer, who was Hunsa the thug; and, Praise be to Allah! they willapply the torture. Let him pass in peace, all ye. And take care thatno one molest the beautiful Gulab. The peace of Allah upon the soul ofthe great Amir Khan!"

A rippling thunder of deep voices vibrated the thronged street, crying, "Allah Akbar! the peace of God be upon the soul of the dead Chief!"

A lane was opened up to them by the grim, wild-eyed, bandit-lookinghorsemen, _tulwar_ over shoulder and knives in belt, who called: "Backye! the favoured of the Commander passes. Back, make way! 'tis anorder. "

The faces of the soldiers that had been wreathed in revenge andblood-lust when Barlow had been brought, were now friendly, and therewere cries of "Salaam, brother! salaam, Flower of the Desert!" for ithad been spread that the Gulab had discovered the murderer, haddenounced him. 

"Brave little Gulab!" Barlow said in a low voice, bending his head tolook into her eyes, for he felt the arm trembling against his hand. 

She did not answer, and he knew that she was sobbing. 

When they were past the turbulent crowd he said, "Bootea, your peoplewill all have fled or been captured. "

"Yes, Sahib, " she gasped. 

"Perhaps even your maid servant will have been taken. "

"No, Sahib, they would not take her; her home is here. "

By her side he travelled to where the now deserted tents of the decoitsstood silent and dark, like little pagodas of sullen crime. A lightflickered in one tent, and silhouetted against its canvas side theycould see the form of a woman crouched with her head in her hands. 

"The maid is there, " Barlow said: "but it is not enough. I will bringmy blankets and sleep here at the door of your tent. "

"No, Sahib, it is not needed, " the girl protested. 

"Yes, Bootea, I will come. " Then with a little laugh he added; "Thegods have ordained that we take turns at protecting each other. It isnow my turn; I will come soon. "

She turned her small oval face up to look at this wonderful man, todiscover if he were really there, that it was not some kindly god whowould vanish. He clasped the face, with its soul of adoration, in histwo palms and kissed her. Then fearing that she would fall, for shehad closed her eyes and reeled, he took her by the arm, opened the flapof the tent, and steadied her into the arms of her handmaid. 

It was a fitful night's sleep for Barlow; the beat of horses' hoofs onthe streets or the white sands beyond was like the patter of rain on aroof. There were hoarse bull-throated cries of men who rode hither andthither; tremulous voices floated on the night air wild dirges, likethe weird Afghan love song. Sometimes a long smooth-bore barked itssharp call. At sunrise the Captain was roused from this tiring sleepby the strident weird sing-song of the Mullah sending forth from aminaret of the palace his call to the faithful to prayer, prayer forthe dead Chief. And when the voice had ceased its muezzin:

 "Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar; Confess that there is no God but God; Confess that Mohammad is the prophet of God; Come to Prayer, Come to Prayer, For Prayer is better than Sleep. "

the big drums sent forth a thundering reverberation. He could hear thevoices of the two women within, and called, "Bootea, Bootea!"

The Galub came shyly from the tent saying, "Salaam, Sahib. " Then shestood with her eyes drooped waiting for him to speak. 

"It is this, Bootea, " Barlow said, "do not go away until I am ready todepart, then I will take you where you wish to go. "

"If it is permitted, Sahib, I will wait, " she answered as simply as achild. 

Barlow put a finger under her chin, and lifting her face smiled like agreat boy, saying: "Gulab, you are wonderfully sweet. "

Then Barlow went to the _serai_, looked after his horse, had hisbreakfast, and passed back into the town. He saw a continuous streamof men moving toward the small river that swept southward, to the eastof the town, and asking of one the cause was told that the _ahiria_(murderer)--for now Hunsa was known as the murderer--was being sent onhis way. The speaker was a Rajput. "It is strange, Afghan, " he said, "that one who has slain the Chief of these wild barbarians, who arewithout gods, should be allowed to depart in peace. We Rajputs worshipa god that visits the sin upon the head of the sinner, but the orderhas been passed that no man shall harm the slayer of Amir Khan. Perhaps it is whispered in the Bazaar that Commander Kassim coveted theChiefship. "

Barlow being in the guise of a Musselman said solemnly: "Allah willpunish the murderer, mark you well, man of Rajasthan. "

"As to that, Afghan, one stroke of a _tulwar_ would put the matterbeyond doubt; as it is, let us push forward, because I see from yondersteady array of spears that the Pindaris ride toward the river, and Ithink the prisoner is with them. It was one Hunsa, a thug, and thoughthe thugs worship Bhowanee, they are worse than the _mhangs_ who are ofno caste at all. "

As Barlow came to where the town reached to the river bank he saw thatthe concourse of people was heading south along the river. This wasrather strange, for a bridge of stone arches traversed by the aid oftwo islands the Nahal to the other side. A quarter of a mile lowerdown he came to where the river, that above wandered in three channelsover a rocky bed, now glided sluggishly in one channel. It was like aribboned lake, smooth in its slow slip over a muddy bed, and circlingin a long sweep to the bank. On the level plain was a concourse ofthousands, horsemen, who sat their lean-flanked Marwari or Cabul horsesas though they waited to swing into a parade, the march past. The_sowars_ Barlow had seen in the town were in front of him, riding fourabreast, and at a command from their leader, opened up and formed ascimitar-shaped band, their horses' noses toward the river. As he cameclose Barlow saw Kassim in a group of officers, and Hunsa, a soldier oneither side of him, was standing free and unshackled in front of theCommander. Save for the clanking of a bit, or the clang of aspear-haft against a stirrup, or the scuffle of a quick-turning horse'shoofs, a silence rested upon that vast throng. Wild barbaric facesheld a look of expectancy, of wonderment, for no one knew why the orderhad been passed that they were to assemble at that point. 

Kassim caught sight of Barlow as he drew near, and raising his hand ina salute, said: "Come close, Sahib, the slayer of Amir Khan, inaccordance with my promise, is to go from our midst a free man. Hispunishment has been left to Allah, the one God. "

Without more ado he stretched forth his right arm impressively towardthe murky stream, that, where it rippled at some disturbance carried onits bosom ribbons of gold where the sun fell, saying:

"Yonder lies the way, infidel, strangler, slayer of a follower of theProphet! Depart, for, failing that, it lacks but an hour till the sunreaches overhead, and thy time will have elapsed--thou will die by thetorture. You are free, even as I attested by the Beard of the Prophet. And more, what is not in the covenant, "--Kassim drew from beneath hisrich brocaded vest the dagger of Amir Khan, its blade still carryingthe dried blood of the Chief--"this is thine to keep thy vile life ifyou can. Seest thou if the weapon is still wedded to thy hand. It isthat thou goest hand-in-hand with thy crime. "

He handed the knife to a soldier with a word of command, and the manthrust it in the belt of Hunsa. Even as Kassim ceased speaking tworound bulbs floated upon the smooth waters of the sullen river, andabove them was a green slime; then a square shovel just topped thewater, and Barlow could hear, issuing from the thing of horror, abreath like a sigh. He shuddered. It was a square-nosed _mugger_(crocodile) waiting. And beyond, the water here and there swirled, asif a powerful tail swept it. 

And Hunsa knew; his evil swarthy face turned as green as the slime uponthe crocodile's forehead; his powerful naked shoulders seemed toshrivel and shrink as though blood had ceased to flow through hisveins. He put his two hands, clasped palm to palm, to his forehead insupplication, and begged that the ordeal might pass, that he might goby the bridge, or across the desert, or any way except by that pool ofhorrors. 

Kassim again swept his hand toward the river and his voice was horriblein its deadliness: "These children of the poor that are sacred to someof thy gods, infidel, have been fed; five goats have allotted them assacrifice and they wait for thee. They serve Allah and not thy godsto-day. Go, murderer, for we wait; go unless thou art not only amurderer but a coward, for it is the only way. It was promised that noPindari should wound or kill thee, dog, but they will help thee on thyway. "

Hunsa at this drew himself up, his gorilla face seemed to fill out withresolve; he swept the vast throng of horsemen with his eyes, andrealised that it was indeed true--there was nothing left but the pooland the faint, faint chance that, powerful swimmer that he was, andwith the knife, he might cross. Once his evil eyes rested on Kassimand involuntarily a hand twitched toward the dagger hilt; but at thatinstant he was pinioned, both arms, by a Pindari on either side. Then, standing rigid, he said:

"I am Hunsa, a Bagree, a servant of Bhowanee; I am not afraid. May shebring the black plague upon all the Pindaris, who are dogs that worshipa false god. "

He strode toward the waters, the soldiers, still a hand on either arm, marching beside him. On the clay bank he put his hands to hisforehead, calling in a loud voice: "_Kali Mia_, receive me!" Then heplunged head first into the pool. 

A cry of "Allah! Allah!" went up from ten thousand throats as theBagree shot from view, smothered in the foam of the ruffled stream. And beyond the waters were churned by huge ghoulish forms that theblood of goats had gathered there. Five yards from the bank the uglyhead of Hunsa appeared; a brown arm flashed once, in the fingersclutched a knife that seemed red with fresh blood. The water waslashed to foam; the tail of a giant _mugger_ shot out and struck flatupon the surface of the river like the crack of a pistol. Again thehead, and then the shoulders, of the swimmer were seen; and as ifsomething dragged the torso below, two legs shot out from the water, gyrated spasmodically, and disappeared. 

Barlow waited, his soul full of horror, but there was nothing more;just a little lower down in the basin of the sluggish pool two bulbousprotrusions above the water where some crocodile, either gorged ordisappointed, floated lazily. 

A ghastly silence reigned--no one spoke; ten thousand eyes stared outacross the pool. 

Then the voice of Kassim was heard, solemn and deep, saying: "Thecovenant has been kept and Allah has avenged the death of Amir Khan!"

CHAPTER XXV

Commander Kassim touched Barlow on the arm: "Captain Sahib, come withme. The death of that foul murderer does not take the weight off ourhearts. "

"He deserved it, " Barlow declared. 

Though filled with a sense of shuddering horror, he was compelledinvoluntarily to admit that it had been a most just punishment; lessbrutal, even more impressive--almost taking on the aspect of areligious execution--than if the Bagree had been tortured to death;hacked to pieces by the _tulwars_ of the outraged Pindaris. He hadbeen executed with no evidence of passion in those who witnessed hisdeath. And as to the subtlety of the Commander in obtaining theconfession, that, too, according to the ethics of Hindustan, wasmeritorious, not a thing to be condemned. Hunsa's animal cunning hadbeen over-matched by the clear intellect of this wise soldier. 

"We will walk back to the Chamber of Audience, " Kassim said, "for nowthere are things to relate. "

He spoke to a soldier to have his horse led behind, and as they walkedhe explained: "With us, Sahib, as at the death of a Rana of Mewar, there is no interregnum; the dead wait upon the living, for it isdangerous that no one leads, even for an hour, men whose guard is theirsword. So, as Amir Khan waits yonder where his body lies to be takenon his way to the arms of Allah in Paradise, they who have the welfareof our people at heart have selected one to lead, and one and all, thejamadars and the hazaris, have decreed that I shall, unworthily, situpon the _ghuddi_ (throne) that was Amir Khan's, though with us it isbut the back of a horse. And we have taken under advisement themessage thou brought. It has come in good time for the Mahrattas arelike wolves that have turned upon each other. Sindhia, Rao Holkar, both beaten by your armies, now fight amongst themselves, and suck likevampires the life-blood of the Rajputs. And Holkar has become insane. But lately, retreating through Mewar, he went to the shrine of Krishnaand prostrating himself before his heathen image reviled the god as thecause of his disaster. When the priests, aghast at the profanity, expostulated, he levied a fine of three hundred thousand rupees uponthem, and when, fearing an outrage to the image these infidels call agod, they sent the idol to Udaipur, he way-laid the men who had takenit and slew them to a man. "

"Your knowledge of affairs is great, Chief, " Barlow commented, for mostof this was new to him. 

"Yes, Captain Sahib, we Pindaris ride north, and east, and south, andwest; we are almost as free as the eagles of the air, claiming that ourhome is where our cooking-pots are. We do not trust to ramparts suchas Fort Chitor where we may be cooped up and slain--such as the Rajputshave been three times in the three famed sacks of Chitor--but also, Sahib, this is all wrong. "

The Chief halted and swept an arm in an encompassing embrace of thetent-studded plain. 

"We are not a nation to muster an army because now the cannon thatbelch forth a shower of death mow horsemen down like ripened grain. Itwas the dead Chief's ambition, but it is wrong. "

Barlow was struck with the wise logic of this tall wide-browed warrior, it _was_ wrong. Massed together Pindaris and _Bundoolas_ assailed bythe trained hordes of Mahrattas, with their French and Portuguesegunners and officers, would be slaughtered like sheep. And against thewar-trained Line Regiments of the British foot soldiers they would meetthe same fate. "You are right, Chief Kassim, " Barlow declared; "evenif you cut in with the winning side, especially Sindhia, he would turnon you and devour you and your people. "

"Yes, Sahib. The trade of a Pindari, if I may call it so, has beenthat of loot in this land that has always been a land of strife forpossession. I rode with Chitu as a jamadar when we swept through theNizam's territory and put cities under a tribute of many _lakhs_, butthat was a force of five thousand only, and we swooped through the landlike a great flock of hawks. But even at that Chitu, a wonderfulchief, was killed by wild animals in the jungle when he was fleeingfrom disaster, almost alone. "

They were now close to the palace, and as they entered, just within thegreat hall Kassim said: "There will be nothing to say on thy part, Captain Sahib; the officers will come even now to the audience and itis all agreed upon. Thou wilt be given an assurance to take back tothe British, for by chance the others have great confidence in me, evenmore in a matter of diplomacy than they had in the dead leader, mayAllah rest his soul!"

And to the audience chamber--where had sat oft two long rows of minorchiefs, at their head on a raised dais the Rajput Raja, a Seesodia, oneof the "Children of the Sun, " as the flaming yellow gypsum sun abovethe dais attested--now came in twos and threes the wild-eyed whiskeredriders of the desert. They were lean, raw-boned, steel-muscled, tall, solemn-faced men, their eyes set deep in skin wrinkled from the scorchof sun on the white sands of the desert. And their eyes beneath theblack brows were like falcon's, predatory like those of birds of prey. And the air of freedom, of self-reliance, of independence was in everylook, in the firm swinging stride, and erect set of the shoulders. They were men to swear by or to fear; verily men. And somehow onesharp look of appraisement, and one and all would have sworn by Allahthat the Sahib in the garb of an Afghan was a man. 

As each one entered he strode to the centre of the room, drew himselferect facing the heavy curtain beyond which lay the dead Chief, andraising a hand to brow, said in a deep voice: "Salaam, Amir Khan, andmay the Peace of Allah be upon thy spirit. "

"Now, brothers, " Kassim said, when the curtain entrance had ceased tobe thrust to one side, "we will say what is to be said. One will standguard just without for this is a matter for the officers alone. "

He took from his waist the silver chain and unlocked the iron box, brought forth the paper that Barlow had carried, and holding it aloft, said: "This is the message of brotherhood from the English Raj. Are yeall agreed that it is acceptable to our people?"

"In the name of Allah we are, " came as a sonorous chorus from one andall. 

"And are ye agreed that it shall be said to the Captain Sahib, who isenvoy from the Englay, that we ride in peace to his people, or ride notat all in war?"

"Allah! it is agreed, " came the response. 

He turned to Barlow. "Captain Sahib, thou hast heard. The word of aPindari, taken in the name of Allah, is inviolate. That is our answerto the message from the Englay Chief. There is no writing to be given, for a Pindari deals in yea and nay. Is it to be considered. CaptainSahib; is it a message to send that is worthy of men to men?"

"It is, Commander Kassim, " Barlow answered. 

"Then wait thou for the seal. "

He raised his _tulwar_ aloft, --and as he did so the steel of everyjamadar and hazari flashed upward, --saying, "We Pindaris and Bundoolaswho rode for Amir Khan, and now ride for Kassim, swear in the name ofAllah, and on the Beard of Mahomet, who is his Prophet, friendship tothe Englay Raj. "

"By Allah and the Beard of Mahomet, who is his Prophet, we make oath!"the deep voices boomed solemnly. 

"It is all, " Kassim said quietly. "I would make speech for a littlewith the Captain. "

As each officer passed toward the door he held out a hand and grippedthe hand of the Englishman. 

When they had gone Kassim said: "Go thou back, Sahib, to the one who isto receive our answer, and let our promise be sent to the one whocommands the Englay army and is even now at Tonk, in Mewar, for thepurpose of putting the Mahrattas to the sword. Tell the Sahib tostrike and drive the accursed dogs from Mewar, and have no fear thatthe Pindaris will fall upon his flank. Even also our tulwars and ourspears are ready for service so be it there is a reward in lands andgold. "

The Pindari Chief paced the marble floor twice, then with his eyeswatching the effect of his words in the face of Barlow he said:"Captain Sahib, it is of an affair of feeling I would speak now. Itrelates to the woman who has done us all a service, which but showswhat a perception Amir Khan had; a glance and he knew a man for what hewas. Therein was his power over the Pindaris. And it seems, which israrer, that he knew what was in the heart of a woman, for the Gulab isone to rouse in a man desire. And I, myself, years of hard riding andcombat having taken me out of my colt-days, wondered why the Chief, being busy otherwise, and a man of short temper, should entail labourin the way of claiming her regard. I may say, Sahib, that a Pindariseizes upon what he wants and backs the claiming with his sword. Butnow it is all explained--the wise gentleness that really was in theheart of one so fierce as the Chief--Allah rest his soul! What saythou, Captain Sahib?"

"Bootea is wonderful, " Barlow answered fervidly; "she is like a Rajputprincess. "

Kassim coughed, stroked his black beard, adjusted the hilt of his_tulwar_, then coughed again. 

"Inshalla! but thou hast said something. " He turned to face Barlowmore squarely: "Captain Sahib, the one who suffered the wrath of Allahto-day last night sent a salaam that I would listen to a matter ofvalue. Not wishing to have the hated presence of the murderer in theroom near where was Amir Khan I went below to where in a rock cell wasthis Hunsa. This is the matter he spoke of, no doubt hoping that itwould make me more merciful, therefore, of a surety I think it is alie. It is well known, Sahib, that the Rana of Udaipur had a beautifuldaughter, and Raja Jaipur and Raja Marwar both laid claim to her hand;even Sindhia wanted the princess, but being a Mahratta--who are nothingin the way of breeding such as are the Children of the Sun--dust wasthrown upon his beard. But the Rajputs fly to the sword overeverything and a terrible war ensued in which Udaipur was about ruined. Then one hyena, garbed as the Minister of State, persuaded the cowardlyRana to sacrifice Princess Kumari to save Udaipur. 

"All this is known, Sahib, and that she, with the courage of aRajputni, drained the cup that contained the poison brewed from poppyleaves, and died with a smile on her lips, saying, 'Do not cry, mother;to give my life for my country is nothing. ' That is the known story, Sahib. But what Hunsa related was that Kumari did not die, but lives, and has the name of Bootea the Gulab. "

The Chief turned his eyes quizzically upon the Englishman, who muttereda half-smothered cry of surprise. 

"It can't be--how could the princess be with men such?"

"Better there than sacrifice. Hunsa learned of this thing throughlistening beneath the wall of a tent at night while one Ajeet Singhspoke of it to the Gulab. It was that the Rana got a yogi, a manskilled in magical things, either drugs or charms, and that Kumari wasgiven a potion that caused her to lie dead for days; and when she wasbrought back to life of course she had to be removed from where Jaipuror Marwar might see her or hear of this thing, because they would flyto the sword again. "

Kassim ceased speaking and his eyes carried a look of interrogation asif he were anxious for a sustaining of his half-faith in the story. 

"It's all entirely possible, " Barlow declared emphatically; "it's acommon practice in India, this deceit as to death where a death isnecessary. It could all be easily arranged, the Rana yielding topressure to save Mewar, and dreading the sin of being guilty of thedeath of his daughter. Even the Gulab is like a Princess of theSesodias--like a Rajputni of the highest caste. "

"Indeed she is, Captain Sahib, the quality of breeding never lies. "

"What discredits Hunsa's story, " Barlow said thoughtfully, "is that theGulab was in the protection of Ajeet Singh who was but a _thakur_ atbest--really a protector of decoits. "

"To save Kumari's life she had been given to the yogi, and he would actnot out of affection for the girl's standing as a princess, but toprevent discovery, bloodshed, and, her life. It is also known thatthese ascetics--infidels, children of the Devil--by charm, or drugs, orotherwise, can cause something like death for days--a trance, and theone who goes thus knows not who he was when he comes back, " Kassimargued. 

"Well, " Barlow said, "it is a matter unsolvable, and of no importance, for the Gulab, Kumari or otherwise, is a princess, such as men fightand die for. "

There was a little silence, Barlow carrying on in his mind this, themain interest, so far as he was concerned, Bootea; as a woman appealingto the senses or to the subtlest mentality she was the sweetest womanhe had ever known. 

There was a flicker of grim humour in Kassim's dark eyes: "CaptainSahib, " he said, "that evil-faced Bagree has a curious deep cunning, Ibelieve. I'll swear now by the hilt of my _tulwar_ that he made up thewhole story for the purpose of having audience with me, and in hisheart was a favour desired, for, as I was leaving, he asked that Iwould have his turban given back to him to wear on his going; hepleaded for it. Of course, Sahib, a turban is an affair of caste, andI suppose he was feeling a disgrace in going forth without it. Itappears that Gulab had taken it as an evidence that he had been killed, but when I sent a man for it she told him that the cloth was possessedof vermin and she had burned it. "

"But still, Chief, though Hunsa has an animal cunning, yet he could notmake up such a story--he has heard it somewhere. "

Barlow felt his heart warm toward the grizzled old warrior as he, dropping the nebulous matter of Kumari, said: "And to think, CaptainSahib, that but for the Gulab we would have slain you as the murdererof Amir Khan. As a Patan, even if I had wished it, I could not havefended the _tulwars_ from your body. And you were a brave man, such asa Pindari loves; rather than announce thyself as an Englay--the papergone and thy mission failed--thou wouldst have stood up to death like asoldier. "

He put his hand caressingly on Barlow's knee, adding: "By the Beard ofthe Prophet thou art a man! But all this, Sahib, is to this end; wehold the Gulab in reverence, as did Amir Khan, and if it is permitted, I would have her put in thy hands for her going. Those that were herein the camp with her fled at the first alarm, and my riders discoveredto-day, too late, that they hid in an old mud-walled fort about threemiles from here whilst my Pindaris scoured the country for them; thenwhen my riders returned they escaped. So the Gulab is alone. I willsend a guard of fifty horsemen and they will ride with thee till thouturnest their horses' heads homeward, and for the Gulab there will be a_tonga_, such as a Nawab might use, drawn by well-fed, and well-shodhorses. That, too, she may keep to the end of her journey andafterwards, returning but the driver. "

"My salaams to you, Chief, for your goodness. To-morrow if it pleaseyou I will go with your promises to the British. "

"It is a command, Sahib--to-morrow. And may the Peace of Allah be uponthee and thy house always!"

He held out a hand and his large dark eyes hovered lovingly over theface of the Englishman. 

CHAPTER XXVI

Captain Barlow walked along to the tent of Bootea to tell her of thearrangement that had been made for their leaving the camp so that shemight be ready. He could see in the girl's eyes the reflection of adual mental struggle, an ineffable sweetness varied by a changing cloudof something that was apprehension or doubt. 

"The Sahib is a protector to Bootea, " she said. "Sometimes I wonderedif such men lived; yet I suppose a woman always has in her mind a vagueconception that such an one might be. But always that, that is like adream, is broken--one wakes. "

Prosaically taking the matter in hand Barlow said, "You would wish togo back to your people at Chunda--is it not so?"

The girl's eyes flashed to his face, and her brows wrinkled as if frompain. "Those who have fled will be on their way to Chunda, and theywill tell of the slaying of Amir Khan. The Dewan will be pleased, andthey will be given honour and rich reward; they will be allowed toreturn to Karowlee. "

"Yes, " Barlow interposed; "that Hunsa goes not back will simply betaken as an affair of war, that he was captured and killed; there willbe nobody to relate that you revealed the plot. When you arrive thereyou, also, will be showered with favours, and Ajeet Singh will owe hislife to you; they will set him at liberty. "

"And as to Nana Sahib?" Bootea asked, and there was pathetic dread inher eyes. 

"What is it--you fear him?"

"Yes, Sahib, he will claim Bootea; a Mahratta never keeps faith. Therewill be a fresh covenant, because he is like a beast of the jungle. "

Barlow paced back and forth the small confine of the tent, muttering. "It's hell!" He pictured the Gulab in the harem of Nana Sahib--in agaudy prison chained to a serpent. To interfere on her behalf would beto sacrifice what came first, his duty as an officer of state, to whatwould be called, undoubtedly, an infatuation. Elizabeth would take itthat way; even his superiors would call it at least inexpedient, badform. For a British officer to be interested or mixed up with a nativewoman, no matter how noble the impulse, would be a shatterment of bothofficial and personal caste. 

"I won't allow that, " he declared vehemently, shifting into words hismental traverse. 

Bootea had followed with her eyes his struggle; then she said: "TheSahib has heard of the women of the Rajputs who, with smiles on theirlips faced death, who, when the time of the last danger came were notafraid?"

"Yes, Gulab. But for you it is not that way. You have said that I amyour protector--I will be. "

There was a smile on the girl's lips as she raised her eyes toBarlow's. "It is not permitted, Sahib; the gods have the matter intheir lap. For a little--yes, perhaps. It is the time of thepilgrimage to the shrine of Omkar at Mandhatta, and Bootea will makethe pilgrimage; at the shrine is the priest that told Bootea of herreincarnations, as I related to the Sahib. "

A curious superstitious chill struck with full force upon the heart ofBarlow. Kassim's story of Kumari revivified itself with startlingremembrance. Was this the priest that, to save Kumari's sacrifice, hadwafted her by occult or drug method from one embodied form intoanother, from Kumari to Bootea? It was so confusing, so overpoweringin its clutch that he did not speak of it. 

The girl was adding: "It is on the Sahib's way to Poona; there will bemany from Karowlee at Mandhatta and I can return with them. "

This seemed reasonable to Barlow; she would there be in the company ofpeople not at war. And then, erratically, rebelliously, he felt aheart hunger; but he cursed this feeling as being vicious--it was. Hesmothered it, shoving it back into a niche of his mind, thinking he hadlocked it up--had turned a key in the door of the closet to hide theskeleton. 

He temporised, saying; "Well, we'll see, Gulab; perhaps at Mandhatta Icould wait while you made an offering and a prayer to Omkar, and thenyou could journey on to Chunda. " To himself he muttered in English:"By God! I'll not stand for that slimy brute, Nana Sahib's, possessionof the girl--she's too good. I know enough now to denounce him. "

In council with himself, standing Captain Barlow firmly on his feet toface the realities, he realised the impossibility of being anythingmore to Bootea than just a Sahib who had by fate been thrown into herpath temporarily. And then, feeling the sway, the compelling force ofa fascinating femininity he almost trembled for himself. Weakersahibs--gad! he knew several, one a Deputy Commissioner. A beautifullittle Kashmiri girl had nursed him through cholera when even his ownservants had fled. The Kashmiri, who had the dainty flower-likesweetness of a Japanese maid, and practically the same code, had livedin his protection before this. After the nursing incident he hadmarried her, with benefit of clergy, and the result had been hell, aliving suicide, ostracism. A good officer, he still remained DeputyCommissioner, the highest official of the district, but the socialexcellence was wiped out--he was a pariah, an outcast. And the girl, who now could not remain just a native, could not attain to the dignityof a Deputy-Commissioner Memsahib. 

Barlow knew several such. Of course of drifters he knew also, thewhite inland beach-combers--men who had come out to India to fillsubordinate positions in the telegraph, or the railroad, or mills; and, as they sloughed off European caste, and possessed of the eternallonging for woman companionship, had married natives. Barlow shudderedat mentally rehearsed visions of the degradation. Thus everythinglogical was on that side of the ledger--all against the Gulab. On theother side was the fierce compelling fascination that the girl held forhim. 

Yes, at Mandhatta they would both sacrifice to the gods. CuriouslyElizabeth stood in the computation a cipher; probably he would marryher, but the escapement from disaster, from wreck, would not be becauseof any moral sustaining from her, any invisible thread of love bindinghim to the daughter of the Resident. He knew that until he parted fromBootea at Mandhatta his soul would be torn by a strife that wasfoolish, contemptible, that should never have originated. 

CHAPTER XXVII

And next day when Barlow, sitting his horse, still riding as theAfghan, went forth, his going was somewhat like the departure of aNawab. Chief Kassim and a dozen officers had clanked down the marblesteps from the palace with him and stood lined up at the gates raisingtheir deep voices in full-throated salaams and blessings of Allah uponhis head. 

The horsemen of the guard, spears to boot-leg, fierce-looking riders ofthe plain, were lined up four abreast. The _nakara_ in the open courtof the palace was thundering a farewell like a salute of lightartillery. 

The _tonga_ with Bootea had gone on before with a guard of twoout-riders. 

All that day they travelled to the south, on their left, against theeastern sky, the lofty peaks of the Vindhya mountains holding the goldof the sun till they looked like a continuous chain of gilded templesand tapering pagodas. For hours the road lay over hard basaltic rocksand white limestone; then again it was a sea of white sand theytraversed with its blinding eye-stinging glare. 

At night, when they camped, Barlow had a fresh insight into the finecourtesy, the rough nobility that breeds into the bone of men who liveby the sword and ride where they will. The Pindaris built theircamp-fires to one side, and two of them came to where the Sahib badspread his blankets near the _tonga_ and built a circle of smudge-firesfrom chips of camel-dung to keep away the flies. Then they went backto their fellows, and when Barlow had pulled the blanket over himselfto sleep the clamour of voices where the horsemen sat was hushed. 

And Bootea had been treated like a princess. At each village that theypassed some would ride in and rejoin the cavalcade with fowl, and eggs, and fruit, and sugar cane, and fresh vegetables; and a mention ofpayment would only draw a frown, an exclamation of, "_Shookur_! theseare but gifts from Allah. There has been more than payment that wehave not cut off the _kotwal's_ head, not even demanded a peep at themoney chest. We are looked upon as men who confer favours. "

It was the second day one of the horses in the _tonga_ showinglameness, or perhaps even weariness, for the yoke of the _tonga_ acrosstheir backs did not ride with the ease of a man, the jamadar went intoa village and came forth with his men leading two well-fed horses. Again when Barlow spoke of pay for them the jamadar answered, "We willleave these two with the unbelievers, and a message, in the name ofAllah, that when we return if the horses we leave are not treated likethose of the Sultan there will be throats slit. _Bismillah_! but it isa fair way of treating these unbelievers; they should be grateful. "

The road ran through the large towns of Bhopal and Sehore, and at eachplace Jamadar Jemla explained to all and sundry of the officials thatthe Patan, meaning Barlow, was a trusted officer with Sindhia and theywere escorting a favourite for Sindhia's harem. It was a plausiblestory, and avoided interference, for while the Pindaris might be turnedback if there was a force handy, to interfere with a lady of the King'sharem might bring a horde of cut-throat Mahrattas down on them with asnipping off of official heads. 

On the fourth day, and now they were on a good trunk road that ran toIndore, and branching to the left, that crossed the Nerbudda River atMandhatta, they were constantly passing pilgrims on their way to theTemple of Omkar. In the affrighted eyes of the Hindus Barlow couldread their dread of the Pindaris; they would cringe at the roadside andsalaam, as fearful were they as if a wolf-pack swept down the highway. 

The jamadar would laugh in his deep throat, and twist his blackmoustache with forefinger and thumb, and call the curse of Mahomet uponthese worshippers of stone images and foul gods. He loved to ridestirrup to stirrup with the Englishman, and Barlow found delight in theman's broad conception of life; the petty things seemed to have noresting place in his mind, unless perhaps as a matter for ridicule. The sweep of a country with free rein and a sharp sword, and always thehazard of loot or death was an engrossing subject. Even the enemy whofought and bled and died, were like themselves--by Allah! men; but themerchants, the shop-keepers, and the money-lenders, who cringed andpaid tribute when the Pindaris drove at them in a raid, were pigs, cowardly dogs who robbed the poor and gave only to the accursedBrahmins and their foul gods. He would dwell lovingly upon the featsof courage of the Rajputs, lamenting that such fine men should beexcluded from heaven, dying as they did such glorious deaths, sword inhand, because of their mistaken infidelity; they were souls lostbecause of being led away from a true god, the one god, Allah, throughfalse priests. 

"Mark thou, Sahib, " Jemla said once, "I do not hold that it is a meritin the sight of Allah to slay such except there is need, but when it isa _jihad_, a question of the supremacy of a true god, Allah, or theSahib's God--which no doubt is one and the same--as against the evilgods of destruction and depravity such as Shiva and Kali, then it is amerit to slay the children of evil. Mahomet did much to put thismatter right, " he declared; "he made good Musselmen of thousands whowould otherwise have been cast into _jehannum_ (hell), at times holdingthe sword over their heads as argument. Therein Mahomet was a trueprophet, a saver of souls rather than a destroyer of such. "

By noon they were drawing toward Mandhatta, and when they came to wherethe road from Indore to Mandhatta joined the one they were travelling, there was an increase in the stream of pilgrims and Barlow could see alook of uneasiness in the jamadar's eyes. 

There was a grove of wild mango trees on the left, running from theroad down to a stream that gurgled on its way from the hills to theNerbudda river, and Jemla said, "We might camp here, Sahib, for thereis both good water and fire-wood. "

They could see, as they rested and ate, a party of Hindus down by thestream where there was a shrine to Krishna that nestled under a hugebanyan that was like the roof of a cave from which dropped to earth totake roots hundreds of slender shoots, like stalactites, and whoseroots, creeping from the earth like giant worms, crawled on to lave inthe stream. When they had finished eating, Jemla said, "That is atemple of the Preserver;" then he laughed a full-throated sneer:"_Allah hafiz_! (God protect us), give me a fine-edged _tulwar_, --andmine own is not so dull--methinks yon grinning affair of stone wouldnot preserve a dozen of these infidels had there been cause for anger. "

"What do the pilgrims there, for they go, it would seem, to Omkar?"Barlow queried. 

"There has been a death--perhaps it was even a year ago, and at ashrine of Krishna, especially this one that is on a water that is likea trickle of holy tears to the sacred Narbudda, _straddhas_ (prayersfor the dead) are said. Come, Sahib, we will look upon this mummy, theonly savour of grace about the infidel thing being that it perhapsbrings to their hearts a restfulness, having the faith that they havehelped the soul of the dead. "

Barlow rose from where he sat and they went down to where a party of adozen were engaged in the service of an appeal to the god for rest forthe soul of a dead relative. The devotees did not resent theappearance of the two who were garbed as Moslems. The shrine was oneof those, of which there are many in India, that, curiously enough, issacred to both Hindus and followers of the Prophet. On a flat rock, laved by the stream, was an imprint of a foot, a legendary foot-printof Krishna, perhaps left there as he crossed the stream to gambol withthe milkmaids in the meadow beyond. And it was venerated by theMusselman because a disciple of Mohammed had attained to great sanctityby austerities up in the mountain behind, and had been buried there. 

But Barlow was watching with deep interest the ceremonial form of the_straddha_. He saw the women place balls of rice, milk, and leaves ofthe _tulsi_ plant in earthenware platters, then sprinkle over thisflowers and kusa-grass; they added threads, plucked from theirgarments, to typify the presenting of the white death-sheet to the deadone; a priest all the time mumbling a prayer, at the end of the simpleceremony receiving a fee of five rupees. 

As the two men turned back toward their camp Jemla chuckled: "CaptainSahib, thou seest now the weapon of the Brahmin; his loot of silverpieces was acquired with little effort and no strife; as to therice-balls the first jackal that catches their wind will have a filledstomach. It is something to be thought of in the way of regard for along abiding in heaven that such foolish ones will not attain to it. The setting up of false gods, carved images, I was once told by apriest of thy faith, is sufficient to exclude such. It makes one's_tulwar_ clatter in its scabbard to see such profanation in an approachto God. "

Then Jemla spoke of the matter that had engendered the troubled lookBarlow had observed: "The Captain Sahib has intimated that theOne"--and he tipped his head toward the girl--"would proceed to thetemple of Omkar to make offerings at the shrine?"

"Yes, she goes there. "

"There will be a hundred thousand of these infidels at Mandhatta, andwhen they see fifty Pindaris, _tulwar_ and spear and match-lock, therewill be unrest; perhaps there will be altercation--they will fear thatwe ride in pillage. "

"I was thinking of that, " Barlow replied; "and it would be as well thatyou turned your faces homeward. "

"We have received an order from our Chief that our lives are at thedisposal of the Captain Sahib, and we will drive into the heart of aMahratta force if needs be, but if it is the Sahib's command we willride back from here, " Jemla said. 

"Yes; there is no need of a guard for the Gulab now--just that the_tonga_ carries her as far as she wishes it, " Barlow concurred. 

"Indeed we are not needed; those infidels come to worship their heathengods, not to combat men, and Mandhatta is but a matter of twelve _kos_now, " Jemla affirmed. 

When Captain Barlow, and Bootea in the _tonga_, drew out from theencampment to proceed on their way the Pindaris rode on in front, andthen, at a command from Jemla, wheeled their horses into a continuousline facing the road, stirrup to stirrup, the horsemen sitting erectwith their _tulwars_ at the salute. As Barlow passed a cry of, "Salaam, aleikum! the protection of Allah be upon you, " rippled downthe line. Then the horsemen wheeled with their faces to the north. Jemla swept a hand to his forehead and from his deep throat welled afarewell, "Salaam, bhai! (brother). "

CHAPTER XXVIII

The Jamadar's tribute from man to man, one encased in a dark skin andone in a white, was akin to the tribulation that would not be drivenfrom Barlow's mind over the Gulab, that in their case made the matterof a skin colourisation the bar sinister. He rode in a broodingsilence. And now the way was one of ascent toward the pass through theVindhya mountains; a red gravelly undulating formation had given placeto basaltic rocks. They passed from groups of _mhowa_ trees and leftbehind a wide shallow stream, its bed dotted with pools fringed bygreat _kowa_ trees, and its banks lined by a thick green cover of_jamun_ and _karonda_. Thorny _babul_ thrust their spiked branches outover the roadway, white with tufts of cotton torn by its thorns frombales, loose pressed, on their way to market in buffalo carts; "Babulthe thief, " the natives called this acacia. Higher up a torch-woodtree gleamed as if sprayed with gold, its limbs, lean and bare offoliage, holding at their extremities in wisp-like fingers bright, yellow, solitary blooms. From a _tendu_ tree a pair of droll littlebrown monkeys chattered and grimaced at the clattering cart. 

A spotted owlet, disturbed by the driver's encouraging, "Pop-pop!Dih-dih-dih! Ho-ho-ho! children of jungle swine; brothers to buffalo!"addressed to the horses lagging in the climb, fluttered away with hissilly little cackle. 

These incidents of travel were almost unnoticed of Barlow. All up theclimb the retrospect was with him, claiming his thoughts. Justthat--all that was in evidence, a pigment in the skin, _caste_; and yetreacting away back to God's mandate against the union of the white andblack. And verily a sin to be visited even unto the third and fourthgeneration, for the bar sinister would be upon his children; they wouldbe half-castes with all of the opprobrium the name carried. Even theson of a king, the offspring of such a union would be spoken of in messand drawing-room as a half-caste: the indelible sign would be upon him, the blue tint to the white moons in his finger nails. Barlowshuddered. Why contemplate the matter at all--it was impossible. NanaSahib had named the barrier when he had spoken of _varna_, meaningcolour, as _caste_, a shirt-of-mail that protected from disaster. 

Sometimes as he dropped back past the _tonga_, the face of Bootea wouldappear beneath the lifted curtain, and though on the lips would be asweet ravishing smile, the eyes were pathetic, full of heart hunger. Sometimes he vowed that he would put off the parting--dream on; carryher on to her people at Chunda. Then he would realise that this wascowardice, a desire flooding his sense of nobility into a chasm ofpossible disaster; not fair to the girl; the animal mastery of maleover female, the domination of sex. Beyond doubt, wrapped in his arms, not even the omnipotence of the gods would take her away from him. Ifthere were less innate nobility in his avatar, if he were like men thatwere called red-blooded men, yet lacking the finer sensibility, thismight be; not a villainous rush, just drifting. That was it, thesuperlative excellence of the Gulab; the very quality that attracted, was the shield, the immaculate robe that clothed her and preserved herlike a vestal virgin from such violation. Barlow could not word allthese things; subconsciously they swayed him--like the magnetic needle, always toward the pole of right. 

When they had topped the pass and descended into the valley of theNarbudda, clothed in arboreal beauty, passed from a forest of evergreen_sal_ to giant teak trees with huge umbrella-like leaves that formed acanopy over the straight column-like boles of eighty feet, and onamidst topes of wild mango and wild date, down, down, to the lowerlevels where the _dhak_ jungles gave way to feathery bamboo andplantain and waving grass, the sun, like a great ball of molten gold, was splashing its yellow sheen upon the waters of a stream that hurriedsouth to Mother Narbudda. 

There was a small village of Gonds, or Korkus, like a toy thing, thehouses woven from split bamboo, nestling against the billowing hills. 

"Here we will rest and eat, " Barlow said to the Gulab. 

"As the Sahib wishes, " she answered, and smiled at him like a child. 

The huge medallion of gold had slid down in the west from the domethrough which were shot great streamers of red and mauve, and a peacockperched high in a sal tree far up on the mountainside sent forth hisstrident cry of "Miaou! miaou! miaou!" his evening salute to the god ofwarmth. 

As the harsh call, like an evening _muezzin_, died out, the sweet songof a shama, in tones as pure as those of a nightingale, broke thesolemn hush of eventide. 

Barlow turned his face to where the songster was perched in the topbranches of a wild-fig, and Bootea, said in a low voice: "Sahib, it issaid that the shama is a soul come back to earth to sing of love thatmen may not grow harsh. "

Soon a silver moon peeped over the walls of the Vindhya hills, and fromthe forests above the night wind, waking at the fleeing of the sun, whispered down through feathered _sal_ trees carrying the scent ofbalsam and from a group of _salei_ trees a sweet unguent, the perfumeof the gum which is burnt at the shrines of Hindu gods. 

When they had eaten, Barlow said: "I wonder, Gulab, if this is like_kailas_, the heaven those who have passed through many transitions andbecome holy, attain to. "

"It is just heaven, my Lord, " she replied fervently. 

"And to-morrow I will be plodding on through the sands and dust, andI'll be all alone. But you, little girl, you will be making your peacewith Omkar and dreaming of the greater heaven. "

"Yes, it will be that way; the Sahib will not have the tribulation ofprotecting Bootea, and she will be in the protection of Omkar. "

There was so much of pathetic resignation in the timbre of the girl'svoice, for it was half sigh, that Barlow shivered, as if the chillingmist of the valley had crept up to the foothills. Why had he nottreated her as an alien, kept all interest in abeyance? His selfrecrimination was becoming a disease, an affliction. 

He rose, muttering, "Damn! I'm like the young wasters that swarm up toLondon from Oxford and get splashed with the girls from thetheatres--that's what I'm like. "

As he strode over to where his horse was tethered, munching his rationof grain, Bootea followed him with her eyes, wondering why he hadbroken into English; perhaps he was chanting an evening prayer. 

When Barlow came back he fell to wishing that they were at Mandhatta sothat he would start on the rest of his journey in the morning; hedreaded the long evening with the girl. He could have sat there withElizabeth, although their marriage hovered on the horizon, and talkedof trivial things: of sport, of shooting; or damned the Executivesitting beneath _punkahs_ in offices with windows all closed, far awayin Calcutta. Or could have traversed, mentally, leagues of sea andrehabilitated past scenes in London. It would be like talking to abrother officer. But with the Gulab, and the hush and perfume of theforest-clad hills, and the gentle glamour of moonlight, his senseswould smother placid intellectuality; he would be like a toper with abottle at his elbow mocking weak resolve. 

Then the girl said something: a shy halting request that set his bloodgalloping: "Sahib, it is not far to Mandhatta--four _kos_, or perhapsit is five; would it be unpermitted to suggest that we go there, forthe moon is beautiful and the road is good. "

"All right, girl!" and remembering that he had spoken in English, headded, "It will be expedient, for you will there find shelter. "

"Yes, Sahib, Guru Swami will be there, and I am known of him; and thereare places where one may rest. "

"I'll tell the driver to hitch up, " Barlow declared, rising. 

But she laid a detaining hand upon his arm: "Sahib, the sweetest thingin all Bootea's life was the time she rode on the horse with him. Then, too, the moon, that is the soul of Purusha, smiled upon her. Would it be permitted to Bootea just one more happiness, forto-morrow--to-morrow--"

The girl turned away, and seemed busy adjusting her gold-embroideredjacket. 

"So you shall, Gulab, " Barlow declared. And he, too, thought of thesweetness of that ride where she lay like a confiding child in hisarms; and also for him, too, was to-morrow--to-morrow; and for him, too, just one more foolish, useless happiness--just a sensuous buryingof his face in flowers that on the morrow would have shrivelled. 

"I'll send the _tonga_ on ahead, " he declared, "and we'll just havethat jolly old farewell ride together, girl--I'd love it. "

Now she turned back to him and her face was placid, soft, content, asthough Mona Lisa had stepped out from the painted canvas, and, nowembodied, was there listening to the sigh of the night-wind through thefeathered _sal_ forest. 

With ejaculations of "Bap, bap, bap! _Shabaz_!" and queer gurglingclucking of the throat, and a sonorous rumble from the wide, lowwheels, the driver drove the tonga on into the moonlight. Barlow hadsaddled his horse and thrown his blanket loosely behind the saddle. The air was chilling, but his sheepskin coat would turn its coldbreath; the blanket was for Bootea. 

As he had done once before, his feet in stirrups, he reached down ahand and swung the girl up in front of him. Then he enveloped her inthe blanket as she nestled against his chest, arms about his waist. Her warm body was like a draught of wine and he muttered, "My God! Ishouldn't have done this!" But he knew that he would have had thatride if devils had jeered at him from the jungle that lined the road. 

As the horse swung along in leisured walking stride, the girl seemed tohave gone to sleep; her cheek lay against Barlow's shoulder, and hecould feel the pulsating throb of her heart. Once a sigh came from herlips, but it was like a breath of deep content. Barlow felt that hemust talk to the girl; his senses were rampant; he was sitting like thelotus-eaters drinking in a deadly intoxication. 

But it was Bootea who broke the silence as though she, too, feltherself slipping. She took from beneath her vestment a little bag ofsilk and taking from it a ruby she put it in Barlow's hand, saying:"Here is the 'Lamp of Akbar;' it protects and gives power. "

"Where did you get this magnificent ruby, girl--it is of great value?"Barlow queried in amazement. 

"Do you remember, Sahib, when Bootea asked for the turban of Hunsa, thetime it was stripped from his head, and the paper of message foundhidden in it?"

"Yes, you said you would take it back to the Bagrees to show them thatHunsa was dead. "

He could hear the Gulab chuckle. "That was but the deceit of a woman, Sahib; the simple things that a woman says to deceive a clever man. Iknew that Hunsa had the ruby sewn in a corner of the turban, and when Ihad taken the stone I burned the turban in the fire, for it was likeHunsa--very dirty. "

"Where did Hunsa get it?"

"When the Bagrees killed the jewel merchant, that time the Sahib savedBootea, he stole it from the other decoits, hiding it in his turban, because the Dewan wanted it. "

"But I don't want the stone--I can't take it, " Barlow expostulated. 

"It is for a service, Sahib. Nana Sahib will assuredly cause Ajeet tobe put to death if Bootea does not return to his desire, but the Sahibcan buy his life with the ruby of great price. "

"But if it were stolen would not Nana Sahib demand it, and then killAjeet?"

"No; it was not his ruby; and to obtain it he will set Ajeet free. "

"I'll do that, Gulab, " Barlow agreed, and the girl's hand pushed upfrom the folds of the blanket to caress his cheek, and her face nestledagainst his shoulder. 

The fingers thrilled him, and, though he had made solemn vow that hewould ride like an anchorite, he bent his head and kissed her with aclaiming warmth that caused her to cry out as if in misery. 

Presently a whimsical fancy swayed the girl, and she said, "Ayub Alli!"

Barlow laughed, and answered: "Bismillah!"

"So, Afghan, riding thus, it is not disrespect, just that we be ofdifferent faith, Hindu and Musselman. "

"If it were thus, we'd not part at Mandhatta. And as to the faith, thou wouldst become a follower of the Prophet. "

"Yes, Bootea would. If she could go forever thus she would sacrificeentrance to _kailas_. But this is heaven; and perhaps Omkar, when Imake the sacrifice--I mean offering--will listen to Bootea's prayers, and--and--"

"And what, Gulab?" Barlow asked, for the girl turned her face againsthis breast, and her voice had smothered. 

Their thoughts were distracted by a din in front that shattered thesolemn hush of the night. There was a thunderous beat of tom-toms, theshrill rasping screech of conch-shells, and in intervals of subversionof instrumental clamour they could hear women's voices, high-pitched, singing the _scahailia_ (song of joy). Loud cries of "Jae, Jae, Omkar!" rose in a chorus from a hundred swelling throats. 

At a turning around a huge banyan tree they saw the flickering flamesof torches, and Barlow knew that plodding in front was a large body ofpilgrims. 

He quickened his horse's pace, drawing Bootea closer to hide her fromcurious eyes, and as he passed the Hindus he knew from their scowlingfaces and cries of, "It is a Kaffir--a barbarian!" that they took himfor a Mussulman, perhaps one of Sindhia's Arabs. 

At the head of the procession, carried on a platform gaily decoratedwith gaudy cloths, borne on the shoulders of four men, was a figure ofGanesha. The obese, four-armed, jovial son of Shiva, bobbing in therhythmic stride of his carriers, seemed to nod his elephant head at thehorseman approvingly, wishing him luck as was the wont of Ganesha. Theprocession drove in upon Barlow's mind the thought that they werenearing Mandhatta; he realised it with a pang of reluctance. It seemedbut a matter of just minutes since he had lifted Bootea to the saddle. 

It had hurried the Gulab's mind, too, for at another turn where theroad slid into the valley, bringing to their nostrils the soft perfumeof _kush-kush_ grass and the savour of _jamun_ that grew luxuriantly onthe banks of the Narbudda, the Gulab asked: "The Sahib will marry theyoung Memsahib who is at the city of the Peshwa?"

Barlow was startled. It was like a voice crying out in the night thatshattered a blissful dream. 

"Why do you ask that, Gulab?"

"Because it was said. And the Missie Baba's heart will be full of theSahib, for he is like a god. "

"Is the Gulab jealous of the Missie Baba?" Barlow asked mundanely, almost out of confusion. 

"No, Sahib, because--because one is not jealous of a princess; becausethat is to question the ways of the gods. If I had been an Englay andhe loved me, and the Missie Baba claimed him, Bootea would kill her. "

This was said with the simple conviction of a child uttering a weirdthreat, but Barlow shivered. 

"And now, Gulab, " he persisted, "if you thought I loved you would youkill the Missie Baba?"

"No, Sahib, because it is Bootea's fault. It can't be. It ispermitted to Bootea to love the Sahib, but at the shrine Omkar willtake that sin and all the other sins away when she makes sacrifice--"

"What sacrifice, Gulab?"

"Such as we make to the gods, Sahib. "

Then something curious happened. The girl broke, she clung to Barlowconvulsively; sobs choked her. 

He clasped her tight and laid his cheek against hers soothingly, andsaid, "Gulab, what is it? Don't go to the Shrine of Omkar. Come withme to your people at Chunda, and if you do not want to remain with themI will have it arranged, through the Resident, that the British willreward you with protection. You have done the British Raj a greatservice. "

"No, Sahib. " The girl drew herself erect, so that her eyes gazed intoBarlow's, They were luminous with an intensity of resolve. "Let Booteaspeak what is in her heart, and be not offended; it is necessary. There is, at the end of the journey the place that is called _jahannam_(hell) for Bootea. The Nana Sahib waits like a tiger crouched by apool at night for the coming of a stag to drink. "

"The Resident will protect you against the Mahratta, " Barlow declared. 

"Bootea could do that, " and in her small hand there gleamed in themoonlight the sheen of her dagger blade. She thrust it back into herbelt. 

"What then do you fear, Gulab?" he queried. 

"The Sahib. "

"_Me_, Gulab?"

"Yes, Khudawand. To see you and not be permitted to hear your voice, nor feel your hand upon my face, would be worse than sacrifice. Booteawould rather die, slip off into death with the goodness, the sweetnessof to-night upon her soul. There, where the Sahib would be, Bootea'sheart would be full of evil, the evil of craving for him. No, this isthe end, and Bootea will make offering of thanks--marigolds and acocoanut to Omkar, and sprinkle attar upon his shrine in thankfulnessfor the joy of the Sahib's presence. It is said!" and the girl nestleddown against Barlow's breast again as though she had gone to sleep incontent. 

But he groaned inwardly: there was something of dread in his heart, herresignation was so deep--suggesting an utter giving up, a helplessness. She had named sacrifice; the word rang ominously in his mind, beatingat his fears. And yet, what she had said was philosophy--wise; asomething that had been worded, perhaps differently, for a millionyears; the brave acceptance of Fate's decree--something that alwaystriumphed over the weak longings of humans. 

CHAPTER XXIX

Now they could see the wide silver ribbon of Mother Narbudda lyingserene and placid in the moonlight, in the centre of the river's wideflow the gloomy rock embrasures of Mandhatta Island. Where it toweredupward in cliffs and coned hills the summit showed the flickeringlights of many temples, and like the sing of a storm through gianttrees there floated on the night wind the sound of many voices, and thebeating of drums, and the imperious call of horns and conch-shells. 

They came upon the _tonga_ waiting by the roadside, and Barlow, thrusting back the covering from the girl's face said: "Now, Gulab, Iwill lift you down. We must find a place in the village beyond for youto rest to-night; I, too, will remain there and in the morning we willmake our salaams. "

Then he drew her face to his and kissed her. 

He slipped from the saddle and lifted the girl down, carrying her inhis arms to the _tonga_. 

As they neared the village that was situated on the flat land thatswept back from the Narbudda in a wide plain, and nestled against theriver bank, they were swept into a crowd such as would be encounteredon a trip to the Derby. The road was thronged with people, and thevillage itself, from which a bridge reached to the Island of Mandhatta, was a town in holiday attire, for to the Hindus the _mela_ of Omkar wasa union of festivity and devotion. 

Both sides of the main street were lined with booths for the sale ofeverything; calicoes from Calicut, where these prints first got theirname; hammered Benares ware; gold-threaded cotton puggris from Mewar;tulwars and khandas from Bhundi. In some of the little shops, bamboostructures that thrust an underlip out into the street, there was Mhowaliquor, and _julabis_, and _kabobs_ of goat meat. Open spaces heldtiny circuses--abnormal animals and performing goats, and a moon-bearon a ring and strap. 

The street was full of gossiping men and women and children dodginghere and there; it was an outing where the _ryot_ (farmer) had escapedfrom his crotched stick of wood that was a plough, and the villagetradesmen had left his shop, and the servant his service, to feel thejoyousness of a holiday. Mendicants were in abundance prowling intheir ugliness like spirits in a nightmare; some naked, absolute, others with but a loin-cloth, their lean shrivelled bodies smeared withashes--sometimes the ashes of the dead--and cow-dung, carrying on theirarms and foreheads the red and white horizontal bars of Shiva--who wasOmkar at Mandhatta. In their hands were either iron-tongs, with looseclattering ring, or a yak's tail, or the three-ribbed horn of ablack-buck. 

Some of the _yogis_, perhaps Goswamies that had come from the countrywhere Eklinga was the tutelary deity, had their hair braided and wovenaround their foreheads, holding in its fold lotus seeds; beneath thetiara of hair a crescent of white on their foreheads. A flowing yellowrobe half hid their ash-smeared limbs. A tall Sannyasi--the mostascetic of sects--his lean yellow-robed form supported by a long staffat the end of which swung a yellow bag, strode solemnly along with eyesfixed on a book, the Bhagavad Gita, muttering, "Aum, to the light ofearth, the divine light that illumines our souls. Aum!"

To Barlow it was like a grotesque pantomime with no directing head. Nautch girls tripped along laughing and chatting, bracelets jingling, and tiny bells at their ankles tinkling musically. It depressed him;it was such a terrible juxtaposition of frivolity and the gloomedshadow of idol worship that lay just the bridge's span of the sullenNarbudda: the gloomy, broken scraps of the long since deserted fortsthat cut with jagged lines the moonlit sky; and beyond them again themany temples with their scowling Brahmin priests, and the shrinewherein the god of destruction, Omkar, sat athirst for sacrifice. Heshivered as though the white mist that veiled the river crept into hismarrow. 

The Gulab seemed at home amongst these gathered ones. Two or threetimes she had bade the driver stop his creeping pace, and looking outfrom beneath the curtain had questioned a man or woman. At last, asthey were stopped by a wall of people watching the antics of somestrolling players upon a platform, Bootea spoke to a stout woman whowas pressed against the opening into the cart by the mob. 

"_Lucker khan Bhaina, Bowree_, " the Gulab said in a low voice, and thewoman's eyes took on a startled look for it was a decoit password, andthe Bowrees were a clan of decoits akin to the Bagrees. From the womanBootea learned where she could find a good resting place with thefamily of a shop-keeper. There was no doubt about it, the Bowree womanassured her, for the _tonga_ would impress him, and he was one whoprofited from the loot of decoits. 

The Gulab was given a place to sleep in the shopkeeper's house thatextended back from his little shop. The driver was ordered to returnin the morning to the Pindari camp. Barlow was for keeping the_tonga_, hoping that perhaps Bootea would change her mind and go on toChunda, but the girl was firm in her determination to end it all atMandhatta. 

Before Barlow left her to seek some camping place in hut or serai, andfood for himself and horse, the girl said: "If the Sahib will delay hisgoing to-morrow for a little, Bootea will proceed early to the shrineto see the Swami--then she will return here, for she would want to seehis face once more before the ending. "

"I'll wait, Gulab, " he acquiesced; "I'll be here at the tenth hour. "He felt even then an unaccountable chill of their parting, for, manybeing about, he could not take her in his arms to kiss her; but theireyes spoke, and the girl's were luminous, and sweet with a look ofhunger, of pathetic longing, of sublime trust. 

As Barlow turned away leading his horse, he muttered over and over, "Gad! it's incomprehensible that a Sahib should feel this over a--yes, a native woman; it's damnable!"

He reviled himself, declaring that it was harder on the Gulab than onhim--and he was actually suffering. It would be better if he swung tothe saddle and fled from the misery that prolongation but intensified. And the girl's brave resignation in giving him up was wonderful, was solike her. 

Then the sight of Mahratta _sowars_, who, it being Sindhia's territory, were a guard to watch the pilgrim throng, flashed him back to a senseof duty, his own mission. But it had not suffered because of Bootea;it had benefitted through her; but for her the written message from theBritish would have been lost--stolen by Hunsa, and would have landed inNana Sahib's hands; and he would have been slain as the Patan, killerof Amir Khan. 

But the Gulab was right; from that time forward should she listen tohim and go on to Poona, God alone knew where it would lead to--misery. It would be utter ruin morally, officially, in a caste way; even intime passionate enthusiasm, engendered by her lovableness, dulled, would bring utter debasement, degradation of spirit, of man fibre. Itwas the wisdom of God that entailed upon the union of the white anddark-skinned the bar sinister. 

Until he slept, wrapped in his blankets on the sand beside his tetheredhorse, Barlow was tortured by this mental inquisition. Even in histroubled sleep there was a nightmare that waked him, panting andexhausted, and the remembrance was vivid--Bootea lay beneath the mightypaws of a tiger and he was beating hopelessly at the snarling brutewith a clubbed rifle. 

CHAPTER XXX

In the morning Captain Barlow underwent a sartorial metamorphosis; heattained to the sanctity of a Hindu pilgrim by the purchase of atight-ankled pair of white trousers to replace the voluminous baggyones of a Patan, and a blue shot-with-gold-thread Rajput turban. Heshoved the Patan turban with its conical fez in his saddle-bags, andwound the many yards of blue material in a rakish criss-cross about hisshapely head, running a fold or two beneath his chin. The Patansheepskin coat was left with his horse. 

When Bootea came at ten to where Barlow--who was now JaswantSingh--paced up and down with the swagger of a Rajput in front of the_bunnia's_ shop, she stood for a little, her eyes searching the crowdfor her Sahib. When he laughed, and called softly, "Gulab, " her eyesalmost wept for joy, for not seeing him at once, a dread that he hadgone had chilled her. 

"You see how easy it is, in a good cause, to change one's caste, " hesaid. 

"With you, Sahib, yes, because you can also change your skin. "

There it was again, the indestructible barrier, the pigmented badge. It drove the laugh from Barlow's lips. 

"Why has the Afghan Musselman become a Hindu?" Bootea asked. 

"I have no wish to anger these people who are on a holy pilgrimage bygoing into their temples as a Moslem. "

"You are going to the shrine of Omkar?" the Gulab asked aghast. 

"Are you--again?" Barlow parried. 

"Yes, Sahib, soon. "

"I am going with you, " Barlow declared. 

Bootea expostulated with almost fierce eagerness; with a fervour thatincreased the uneasiness in Barlow's mind. He had a premonition ofevil; dread hung on his soul--perhaps born of the dream of a tigerdevouring the girl. 

"The Sahib still has the Akbar Lamp--the ruby?" the girl queried, presently. 

"I have it safe, " he answered, tapping his breast. 

"If the Sahib is not going to the shrine Bootea would desire that wecould go out beyond the village to a _mango tope_ where there are noneto observe, for she would like to make the final salaams in hisarms--then nothing would matter. "

"Perhaps we had better go anyway, " Barlow said eagerly--"though I amgoing over to the shrine with you; for now, being a Hindu, I can passas your brother--and there there would not be opportunity. "

The girl turned this over in her mind, then said: "No, we will not goto the grove, for Bootea can say farewell to the Sahib in the cloisterwhere Swami Sarasvati has a cell for vigils. "

Then asking Barlow to wait she went into the house and soon returnedclothed in spotless white muslin. He noticed that she had taken offall her ornaments, her jewellery. The bangle of gold that was atwisting snake with a ruby head, she pressed upon Barlow, saying: "Whenthe Sahib is married to the Englay will he give her this from me as asafeguard against evil; and that it may cause her to worship the Sahibas a god, even as Bootea does. "

The simplicity, the genuine nobleness of this tribute of renunciation, hazed Barlow's eyes with a mist--almost tears; she was a strangecombine of dramatic power and gentle sweetness. 

"Now, come, Sahib, " she said, "if you insist. It will not bring miseryto Bootea but to you. "

Barlow strode along beside the girl steeped in ominous misgivings. Perhaps his presence at the temple would avert whatever it was, that, like evil genii seemed to poison the air. 

There was a moving throng of pilgrims that poured along in a joyousturbulent stream toward the bridge. No shadow of the dread god, Omkar, gloomed their spirits; they chatted and laughed. Of those who wouldmake devotions the men were stripped to the waist, their limbs drapedin spotless white. And the women, on their way to have their sinsforgiven, were taking final license--the _purdah_ of the veil wasalmost forgotten, for this was permitted in the presence of the god. Even their beautifully formed bodies and limbs, the skin freshanointed, gleaming like copper in the sunlight, showed entrancingly, voluptuously, with a new-born liberty. 

Once, half way of the bridge, a man's voice rang out commandingly, calling backward, admonishing some one to hurry, crying, "It is the_kurban_!"

Barlow started; the _kurban_ meant a human sacrifice. He looked atBootea--he could have sworn her head had drooped, and that sheshivered. The girl must have sensed his thoughts, for she turned hereyes up to his, but they held nothing of fear. 

Beyond the bridge they passed across a lower level, jungle clad withdelicate bamboos and dhak, and sweet-scented shrubs, and clusters ofgorgeous oleanders. The way was thronged with white-clothed figuresthat seemed like wraiths, ghosts drifting back to the cavern of theDestroyer. 

Then they commenced the ascent following the bed of a stream that hadcut a chasm through black trap-rock, leaving jagged cliffs. And thepersistent jungle, ever encroaching on space, had out-posts of champacand wild mango, their giant roots, like the arms of an octopus, holdinganchorage in clefts of the rock. And from the limbs above floated downthe scolding voices of _lungoor_, the black-faced grey-whiskeredmonkeys, who rebuked the intrusion of the earth-dwellers below. Wherethe path lay over rocks it was worn smooth and slippery by naked feet, the feet of pilgrims for a thousand years. On the right the mouth of adeep cave had been walled up by masonry. Within, so the legend ran, the High Priest of Mandhatta, centuries before, had imprisoned thegoddess Kali to stop a pestilence, making vow to offer to Bhairava, herson, a yearly human sacrifice. Higher up, approaching the plateauwhere were the ruins of a thousand gorgeous shrines, both sides of thepathway were lined by mendicants who sat cross-legged, in front of thema little mat for the receipt of alms--cowries, pice, silver; themendicants muttering incessantly "_Jae, Jae, Omkar_!" (Victory toOmkar). 

In front of the temple within which sat the god, was a conical blackstone daubed with red, the Linga, the generative function of Siva, andbefore it, the symbol of reproduction, women made offering ofcocoanuts, and sweets, and garlands of flowers, --generallymarigolds, --and prayed for the bestowal of a son; even their postures, carried away as they were by desire, showing a complete abandon to thesex idea. A Brahmin priest sat cross-legged upon a stone platformrepeating in a sing-song cadence prayers, and from somewhere beyond adeep-toned bell boomed out an admonishing call. 

Holy water from the sacred Narbudda was poured into the two jugs eachpilgrim carried and sealed by the Brahmins, who received, withoutthanks, stoically, as a matter of right, a tribute of silver. 

Towering eighty feet above the temple spire was a cliff, and from aledge near its top a white flag fluttered idly in the lazy wind. Itwas the death-leap, the ledge from which the one of the human sacrificeto Omkar leapt, to crash in death beside the Linga. 

Almost without words Barlow and the girl had toiled up the ascent, scarcely noticed of the throng; and now Bootea said: "Sahib, remainhere, I go to speak to the High Priest. "

Barlow saw her speak into the open portal of one of the cloisterchambers that surrounded the temple, then disappear within. After atime she came forth, and approaching him said, "The Priest would speakwith thee, Sahib; for because of many things I have told him who thouart, though mentioning not the nature of the mission, for that is notpermitted. "

Barlow's foreboding of evil was now a certainty as he strode forward. 

The priest rose at the Captain's entrance. He was a fine specimen ofthe true Brahmin, the intellectual cult, that through successivegenerations of mental sway and homage from the millions of untutoredones had become conscious of its power. Tall, spare of form, with widehigh forehead and full expressive eyes, almost olive skin, Barlow feltthat the Swami was quite unlike the begging yogis and mendicants; a manwho was by the close alliance of his intellect to the essence ofcreated things a Sannyasi. Larger in his conceptions than the yogiswho misconstrued the Vedas and the Law of Manu as imposing anassociation of filth--smeared ashes, and uncombed, uncleansed hair--asa symbol of piety and abnegation of spirit, a visible assertion thatthe body had passed from regard--that it, with its sensualities andungodly cravings, had become subservient to the spirit, the soul. 

Swami Sarasvati was austere; Barlow felt that he dwelt on a plane wherethe trivialities of life were but pestilential insects, to be enduredstoically in a physical way, with the mind freed from their irritationgrasping grander things; life was a wheel that revolved with thecertainty of celestial bodies. 

It was so curious, and yet so unfailing, that Bootea, with herhyper-intuition should have found, selected this spiritual tutor fromthe horde of gurus, byragies, and yogis that were connecting linksbetween the tremendous pantheon of grotesque gods and the commonpeople. Here she had come to an intellectual, though no doubt anascetic; one possessed of fierce fervour in his ministry. There wouldbe no swaying of that will force developed to the keen flexibleunflawed temper of a Damascus blade. 

Now the priest was saying in the _asl_ (pure) Hindustani of thehigh-bred Brahmin: "The Sahib confers honour upon Sri Swami Sarasvatiby this visit, for the woman has related that he is of high casteamongst the Englay and has been trusted by the Raj with a mission. That he comes in the garb of my people is consideration for it avoidsoutrage to their feelings. I am glad to know that the Englay are soconsiderate. "

"I came, Swami, because of regard for Bootea for she is like aprincess. "

The priest shot a quick, searching look into the eyes of the speaker, then he asked, "And what service would the Sahib ask?"

The question caught Captain Barlow unaware; he had not formulatedanything--it had all been nebulous, this dread. He hesitated, fearingto voice that which perhaps did not exist in the minds of either thepriest or Bootea. 

The girl perceived the hesitancy and spoke rapidly in a low voice tothe priest. 

"Captain Sahib, " the Swami began, "I see that thy heart is inclined tothe woman, and it is to be admired, for she is, as thou thinkest, likea flower of the forest. But also, Captain Sahib, thy heart is theheart of a soldier, of a brave man, the light of valour is in thineeyes, in thy face, and I would ask thee to be brave, and instead ofbeing cast in sorrow because of what I am going to tell thee, thou mustrealise that it is for the good of the woman whose face is in thyheart. To-day she insures to her soul a place in kattas, the heaven ofSiva, the abiding place of Brahm, the Creator of all that is. "

Barlow felt himself reel at this sudden confirmation of his fears--theblow. The cry "_Kurban_" that he had heard on the bridge was areality--a human sacrifice. 

"God!" he cried in a voice of anguish, "it can't be. Young andbeautiful and good, to die--it's wrong. I forbid such a cruel, wantonsacrifice of a sweet life. "

The Swami, taking a step toward the door, swept his long thin arm witha gesture that embraced the thousands beyond. 

"Captain Sahib, " he said solemnly, "if thou wert to raise thy voice inanger against this holy, soul-redeeming observance thou wouldst be tornto pieces; not even I could stop them if insult were offered to Omkar. And, besides, the Englay Raj would call thee accursed for breeding hatein the hearts of the Hindus through the sacrilege of an insult to theHigh Priest of the Temple of Omkar. This is the territory of theMahrattas, and the English have no authority here. "

Barlow knew that he was helpless. Even if there were jurisdiction ofthe British, one against thousands of religious fanatics would availnothing. 

The priest saw the torture in the man's face, and continued: "The womanhas told me much. Her heart is so with thee that it is already dead. Thou canst not take her to thy people, for the living hell is evenworse than the hell beyond. If thou lovest the woman glory in herrelease from pain of spirit, from the degradation of beingoutcast--that she judges wisely, and there is not upon her soul the sinof taking her own life, for if she went with thee, proud and high-bornas she is, it would come to that, Sahib--thou knowest it. There arethings that cannot be said by me concerning the woman; vows having beentaken in the sanctity of a temple. "

A figment of the rumour Barlow had heard that Bootea was PrincessKumari floated through his mind, but that did not matter; Bootea asBootea was the sweetest woman he had ever known. It must be that shehad filled his heart with love. 

Again Bootea spoke in a low voice to the priest, and he said: "Sahib, Igo forth for a little, for there are matters to arrange. I see yonderthe sixteen Brahmins who, according to our rites, assemble when one isto pass at the Shrine of Omkar to _kailas_. "

His large luminous eyes rested with tolerant placidity upon the face ofthis man whom he must consider, according to his tenets, as a creatureantagonistic to the true gods, and said, in his soft, modulated voice:"Thou art young, Sahib, and full of the life force which is essentialto the things of the earth--thou art like the blossom of the _mhowa_tree that comes forth upon bare limbs before the maturity of itsfoliage, it is then, as thou art, joyous in the freshness of awakinglife. But life means eternity, the huge cycle that has been sinceIndra's birth. Life here is but a step, a transition from condition tocondition, and the woman, by one act of sacrifice, attains to theblissful peace that many livings of reincarnated body would notachieve. It is written in the law of Brahm that if one sacrifices hislife, this phase of it, to Omkar, who is Siva, even though he had slaina Brahmin he shall be forgiven, and sit in heaven with the _Gandharvas_(angels). But it is also written that whosoever turns back in terror, each step that he takes shall be equivalent to the guilt of killing aBrahmin. "

The priest's voice had risen in sonorous cadence until it wascompelling. 

Bootea trembled like a wind-wavered leaf. 

To Barlow it was horrible, the mad infatuation of a man prostratebefore false gods, idols, a rabid materialism. That one, to fallcrushed and bleeding from the dizzy height of the ledge of sacrificeupon a red-daubed stone representation of the repulsive emblem, couldthus wipe out the deadly sin of murder, was, even spiritually, impossible. 

The priest, his soul submerged by the sophistry of his faith, passedfrom the gloomed cloister to the open sunlight. 

And Barlow, conscious of his helplessness unless Bootea would now yieldto his entreaties and forswear the horrible sacrifice, turned to thegirl, his face drawn and haggard, and his voice, when he spoke, vibrating tremulously from the pressure of his despair. He held outhis arms, and Bootea threw herself against his breast and sobbed. 

"Come back to Chunda with me, Gulab, " Barlow pleaded. 

"No, Sahib, " she panted, "it cannot be. "

"But I love you, Bootea, " he whispered. 

"And Bootea loves the Sahib, " and her eyes, as she lifted her face, were wonderful. "There, " she continued, "the Sahib could not make the_nika_ (marriage) with Bootea, both our souls would be lost. But it isnot forbidden, --even if it were and was a sin, all sins will beforgiven Bootea before the sun sets, --and if the Sahib permits itBootea will wed herself now to the one she loves. Hold me in yourarms--tight, lest I die before it is time. "

And as Barlow pressed the girl to him, fiercely, crushing her almost, she raised her lips to his, and they both drank the long deep draughtof love. 

Then the Gulab drew from his arms and her face was radiant, a softexultation illumined her eyes. 

"That is all, Sahib, " she said. "Bootea passes now, goes out to_kailas_ in a happy dream. Go, Sahib, and do not remain below for thisis so beautiful. You must ride forth in content. "

She took him by the arm and gently led him to the door. 

And from without he could hear a chorus of a thousand voices, itsburden being, "The _Kurban_!"

Barlow turned, one foot in the sunshine and one in the cloister'sgloom, and kissed Bootea; and she could feel his hot tears upon hercheek. 

Once more he pleaded, "Renounce this dreadful sacrifice. "

But the girl smiled up into his face, saying, "I die happily, husband. Perhaps Indra will permit Bootea to come back in spirit to the Sahib. "

The High Priest strode to the entrance of the cloister, his eyesholding the abstraction of one moving in another world; he seemedoblivious of the Englishman's presence as he said:

"Come forth, ye who seek _kailas_ through Omkar. "

As Barlow staggered, almost blind, over the stony path from thecloister, he saw the group of sixteen Brahmins, their foreheads andarms carrying the white bars of Siva. 

Then Bootea was led by the priest down to the cold merciless stoneLinga, where she, at a word from the priest, knelt in obeisance, abarbaric outburst of music from horn and drum clamouring a salute. 

When Bootea arose to her feet the priest tendered her some _mhowa_spirit in a cocoanut shell, but the girl, disdaining its stimulation, poured it in a libation upon the Linga. 

From the amphitheatre of the enclosing hills thirty thousand voicesrose in one thundering chorus of "Jae, jae, Omkar!" and, "To Omkar the_Kurban_!"

Many pressed forward, mad fanaticism in their eyes, and held out atarm's length toward the girl bracelets and ornaments to be touched byher fingers as a beneficence. 

But Swami Sarasvati waved them back, and turning to Bootea tenderedher, with bowed head, the _pan supari_ (betel nut in a leaf) as anadmonition that the ceremony had ceased, and there was nothing left butthe sacrifice. 

As the girl with firm step turned to the path that led up through shruband jungle growth to the ledge where fluttered the white flag, a tumultof approbation went up from the multitude at her brave devotion. Thena solemn hush enwrapped the bowl of the hills, and the eyes of thethousands were fixed upon the jutting shelf of rock. 

A dirge-like cadence, a mighty gasp of, "Ah, Kuda!" sounded as a slimfigure, white robed, like a wraith, appeared on the ledge, and from herhand whirled down to the rocks below a cocoanut, cast in sacrifice;next a hand-mirror, its glass shimmering flickers of gold from thesunlight. 

For five seconds the white-clothed figure disappeared in the shroudingbushes; men held their breath, and women gasped and clutched at theirthroats as if they choked. 

Then they saw her again, arms high held as though she reached for God. And as the white-draped, slender form came hurtling through the airwomen swooned and men closed their eyes and shuddered. 

An Englishman, clothed as a Hindu, lay prone on his face on thehillside sobbing, the dry leaves drinking in his tears, cursing himselffor a sin that was not his. 

THE END