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Updated: May 8, 2025
A slim hand was placed on Barlow's wrist and the girl said, "Sahib, I am just Bootea, please, please!" "And that's your reason for taking this awful chance, to save Ajeet and the others is it?" "There is another reason, Sahib." The girl dropped her eyes and turning a gold bangle on her wrist gazed upon a ruby that had the contour of a serpent's head.
As if Bootea sensed the same impending evil she pushed Barlow from her and sank back to the cushion, her face shedding its radiancy. Cursing himself for the impetuous outburst Barlow slumped into the chair. "Gulab," he said presently, "my government gives reward for loyalty and service." "Bootea has had full reward," the girl answered.
As the harsh call, like an evening muezzin, died out, the sweet song of a shama, in tones as pure as those of a nightingale, broke the solemn hush of eventide. Barlow turned his face to where the songster was perched in the top branches of a wild-fig, and Bootea, said in a low voice: "Sahib, it is said that the shama is a soul come back to earth to sing of love that men may not grow harsh."
"No, Sahib, to save his life, for if I do not go now Ajeet will be killed, and all the others put in prison because of the decoity. Worse will happen Bootea, she will be placed in the seraglio of Nana Sahib." "Damn it! they can't do that!" Barlow exclaimed angrily. "I'll stop that." "No, the Sahib can't; and he has a mission, he is not of the service of protecting Bootea."
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 slightest provocation, beat her even brand her with a hot iron; he had known of it having been done. She would be given but one meal a day rice and chillies.
Bootea clawed at his face; she kicked and fought; her voice screaming a call to Ajeet. There was a heavy rolling thump of hoofs upon the roadway, unheard of Hunsa because of the vociferous struggle. Then from the shimmer of moonlight thrust the white form of a big Turcoman horse that was thrown almost to his haunches, his breast striking the back of the decoit.
And now Ajeet is trapped through the decoity and Bootea is going to the Pindari camp." "You're not going to betray Amir Khan, have him murdered!" Barlow cried, aghast at the villainy, at the thought that one so sweet could be forced to complicity in such a ghastly crime.
Bootea asked, and there was pathetic dread in her eyes. "What is it you fear him?" "Yes, Sahib, he will claim Bootea; a Mahratta never keeps faith. There will 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 a gaudy prison chained to a serpent.
"That, I cannot tell." "You must, Gulab." "No, Bootea will not." Barlow stared angrily into the big eyes that were lifted to his, that though they lingered in soft loving upon his face, told him that she would not tell, that she would die first; even as he would have given his life if he had been captured by tribesmen and asked to betray his fellow men as the price of liberty.
"By Jove!" and Barlow, suddenly cognisant that he had practically arrived at the end of his ride, that the windmill of Don Quixote stood yonder on the hill, realised that in a sense, so far as Bootea was concerned, he had just drifted. Now he asked: "I'm afraid, little girl, your Sahib is somewhat of a fool, for I have not asked where you want me to take you."
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