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Updated: May 27, 2025
He turned away from him and faced Rosemary, not troubling to examine her face closely as he had done her father's, but seeming none the less to give her full attention. "I understood you to say that you promised to help Prince Jaimihr to escape from his cell tonight?" Duncan McClean could not have acted such amazement.
He was known to have engaged a new servant when he rode away from Howrah and to have left his trusted man behind. Miss McClean was known to have conversed with the retainer, immediately after which the man had been seized and carried off by Jaimihr's men. Jaimihr was known to have placed watchers round the mission house and once to have killed a man in Miss McClean's defense.
"It's a little late to ask me that!" laughed McClean. "Yes I'm positive I do. Good-by." They shook hands again and the three rode off, cantering presently, to make the most of the coolness before the sun got up. Cunningham climbed slowly up the hill and then watched them from the parapet wondering, wondering again whether he was justified.
At a word from Miss McClean the old hag came out into the sun again and blinked at the Rajput, very much afraid of him. Mahommed Gunga saluted Miss McClean swore at the old woman pointed a wordless order with his right arm watched her shuffle half a hundred yards up-street followed her, and growled at her for about five minutes, while she nodded.
Duncan McClean, looking ill and weak and helpless, crowded his daughter to the wall, standing between her and the Prince; but Jaimihr aimed a swinging sabre at him, and the missionary fell. His daughter stooped to bend over him, and Jaimihr seized her below the arms. A second later he had hoisted her to his saddle-bow and was spurring hell-bent-for-leather for the open country.
Rosemary McClean, who knew him almost least of all, so far as length of time was concerned, was ready now to trust him as far as the Risaldar dared go; her limit was as long and as devil-daring as Mahommed Gunga's.
It was then that Rosemary McClean rehearsed with her father her former conversation with Mahommed Gunga and part, at least, of her recent one with Ali Partab, and the missionary started off himself to find the horseman whom Mahommed Gunga had so thoughtfully left behind. But he very naturally found no Ali Partab.
"Of what man do you speak?" asked Howrah, still undecided what to do with them, and anxious above all things to disguise his thoughts. "What man is a prisoner, and how do you know it?" Before McClean had time to answer him, a spear haft rang on the great teak double door.
"I will obey," said Rosemary McClean quietly. She said it through straight lips and in a level voice that carried more assurance than a string of loud-voiced oaths. "And you, sir?" "Since my daughter sees fit to ah capitulate, I have no option." "Be good enough to be explicit." "I agree to obey your orders." "Thank you." He seemed to have finished with McClean.
What we say, what we promise what we boast must tally with what we undertake, and at the least try, to do. You must keep your word to Jaimihr, Miss McClean!" She stared back at Cunningham through wide, unfrightened eyes. Whatever this man said to her, she seemed unable to feel fear while she had his attention. Her father seemed utterly bewildered, and she held his hand to reassure him.
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