"Sahib," she pleaded, "go from the road."

"Why, Bootea?"

"The one with the staff spoke of soldiers."

He laughed and patted her shoulder. "Don't fear, little lady," he said,
"an army doesn't make war upon one, even if they are soldiers. It will
be but a wedding party who now take the wife to the village of her
husband."

"Not at night; and a Sahib who carries a woman upon his saddle will hear
words of offence."

Though Barlow laughed he was troubled. What if the smouldering fire of
sedition had flared up, and that even now men of Sindhia's were slipping
on a night march toward some massing of rebels. The resonant, heavy
moaning of massive wheels was like the rumble of a gun carriage. And,
too, there was the drumming of many hoofs upon the road. Barlow's ear
told him it was the rhythmic beat of cavalry horses, not the erratic
rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat of native ponies.

With a pressure upon the rein he edged the grey from the white road to a
fringe of bamboo and date palms, saying; "If you will wait here, Gulab,
I'll see what this is all about."

He slipped from the saddle and lifted her gently to the ground saying,
"Don't move; of a certainty it is nothing but the passing of some raja.
But, if by any chance I don't return, wait until all is still, until all