to 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, and
strong fingers caressed its oval.

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

Barlow sat bolt upright in the chair, roused, the lethargy gone, as if
he had poured raw whisky down his throat. And he was glad, the closed
door and the drawn curtains were not now things of debasement. Curious
that 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 have
killed you."

"Who?"

"That, I cannot tell."

"You must, Gulab."

"No, Bootea will not."