"What say you, Ajeet Singh?" Sookdee asked.

"As to the ordeal," the Chief answered, "according to our faith
Bhowanee has spoken. But know you this, though the scar is in my palm,
in my heart is no treachery. As to Hunsa, the ordeal has cleared him
in your minds, and perhaps it is true. We will go forth to the decoity
and what is to be will be. We are but servants of Bhowanee, and if we
make vow to sacrifice a buffalo at her temple perhaps she will keep us
in her protection."

Ajeet knew that he had been tricked somehow, but to dispute the ordeal,
the judgment of the black goddess, would be like an apostacy--it would
turn every Bagree against him--it would be a shatterment of their
tenets. So he said nothing but accepted mutely the decree.

But Bootea's sharp eyes had been busy. She had watched the blacksmith,
to whom Ajeet had paid little attention. In the faces of Hunsa and
Sookdee she had caught flitting expressions of treachery. She knew
that Ajeet had been guiltless of treason to the others, for she had
been close to him. Besides she had, when roused, an imperious temper.
The Bagree women were allowed greater freedom than other women of
Hindustan, even greater freedom than the Mahratta females who, though
they appeared in public unveiled, in the homes were treated as
children, almost as slaves. The Bagree women at times even led gangs
of decoits. Her anger had been roused by Sookdee earlier, and now
rising from where she sat, she strode imperiously forward till she
faced the jamadars:

"Your Chief is too proud to deny this trick that you, Sookdee and