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"And meaning, Sahib, it would not be right if they saw you bearing on your horse one who is not a memsahib?" "As to that, Gulab, what might be thought by men of low rank is of no consequence." "But if the Sahib wishes to overtake them my burden upon the horse will be an evil, and he will be sorry that Bootea had not shame sufficient to refuse his help."
In the easy swinging cradle of the horse's smooth stride the minds of both Barlow and the Gulab relaxed into restfulness; her arms about the strong body, Bootea felt as if she clung to a tower of strength that she was part of a magnetic power; and the nightmare that had been, so short a time since, had floated into a dream of content, of glorious peace.
All this was casually in his mind, but he let his tired eyes droop, and his hand that hung over the teak-wood arm of the chair rested upon the girl's shoulder. "Bootea will soon go so that the Sahib may sleep, for he is tired," she said; "but first there is something to be said, and I have come close to the Sahib because men not alone whisper in the dark but they listen."
"It is not permitted, Sahib; the gods have the matter in their lap. For a little yes, perhaps. It is the time of the pilgrimage to the shrine of Omkar at Mandhatta, and Bootea will make the pilgrimage; at the shrine is the priest that told Bootea of her reincarnations, as I related to the Sahib." A curious superstitious chill struck with full force upon the heart of Barlow.
Shabaz!" and queer gurgling clucking of the throat, and a sonorous rumble from the wide, low wheels, the driver drove the tonga on into the moonlight. Barlow had saddled his horse and thrown his blanket loosely behind the saddle. The air was chilling, but his sheepskin coat would turn its cold breath; the blanket was for Bootea.
But then the use of the third person when she used Bootea instead of a nominative pronoun might be due to a cultured 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 they were staring as if in fright.
"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, "If it is permitted I will take this to those who entrusted Hunsa with this foul mission to show them that he is dead."
"Perhaps we had better go anyway," Barlow said eagerly "though I am going over to the shrine with you; for now, being a Hindu, I can pass as your brother and there there would not be opportunity." The girl turned this over in her mind, then said: "No, we will not go to the grove, for Bootea can say farewell to the Sahib in the cloister where Swami Sarasvati has a cell for vigils."
Barlow shivered; not because of the impending danger, for he had accepted the roll of the dice, but at the thought that Bootea was betraying him, that all she had said and done before was nothing a lie, that she was an accomplice in this murder of the Chief, and was now giving the Pindaris the final convincing proof, the reason.
Captain Barlow and Bootea had gone from the scene of the murder through the long dim-lighted hall, its walls broken here and there by niches of mystery, some of them closed by marble fretwork screens that might have been doors, and down the marble stairway, in silence.
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