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Updated: May 8, 2025
But you, little girl, you will be making your peace with Omkar and dreaming of the greater heaven." "Yes, it will be that way; the Sahib will not have the tribulation of protecting Bootea, and she will be in the protection of Omkar."
But it is also written that whosoever turns back in terror, each step that he takes shall be equivalent to the guilt of killing a Brahmin." The priest's voice had risen in sonorous cadence until it was compelling. Bootea trembled like a wind-wavered leaf. To Barlow it was horrible, the mad infatuation of a man prostrate before false gods, idols, a rabid materialism.
He drooped his head and let his lips linger against the girl's eyes, and uttered a superb common-place: "Don't cry, little girl," he said; "I am seven kinds of a brute to bother you!" And Bootea thought it would have been better if he had driven a knife into her heart, and sobbed with increased bitterness. Once her fingers wandered up searchingly and touched his throat.
The sweet pain has been put in the heart of Bootea by the Sahib's eyes, and she is happy. But do not go as a Sahib." Barlow cursed softly to himself, muttering, "India! Even dreams are not unheard!" Then, "What made you say that?" he queried. "It is known because that is the way of the Sahib.
And when Barlow had come forth the Bagree trailed him up through the chowk; and just as the man he followed came to the end of the narrow crowded way, Hunsa saw Bootea, coming from the opposite direction, suddenly stop, and her eyes go wide as they were fixed on the face of the tall Patan. "It is the accursed Sahib," Hunsa snarled between his grinding teeth.
There are things that cannot be said by me concerning the woman; vows having been taken in the sanctity of a temple." A figment of the rumour Barlow had heard that Bootea was Princess Kumari floated through his mind, but that did not matter; Bootea as Bootea was the sweetest woman he had ever known. It must be that she had filled his heart with love.
Barlow said in a low voice, bending his head to look 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 people will all have fled or been captured." "Yes, Sahib," she gasped. "Perhaps even your maid servant will have been taken."
"If the Sahib is not going to the shrine Bootea would desire that we could go out beyond the village to a mango tope where there are none to observe, for she would like to make the final salaams in his arms then nothing would matter."
He knew that until he parted from Bootea at Mandhatta his soul would be torn by a strife that was foolish, contemptible, that should never have originated. And next day when Barlow, sitting his horse, still riding as the Afghan, went forth, his going was somewhat like the departure of a Nawab.
Then they went back to their fellows, and when Barlow had pulled the blanket over himself to sleep the clamour of voices where the horsemen sat was hushed. And Bootea had been treated like a princess.
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