"And--?"

"He has promised to try to find a man for me who will take my report on
this awful business to the Resident at Abu."

"Father, listen! Listen, please!" Rosemary McClean drew a chair for
him and knelt beside him. Youth saved her face from being drawn as
his, but the heat and horror had begun to undermine youth's powers of
resistance. She looked more beautiful than ever, but no law lays down
that a wraith shall be unlovely. She had tried the personal appeal
with him a hundred times, and argument a thousand; now, she used both
in a concentrated, earnest effort to prevail over his stubborn will.
Her will was as strong as his, and yielded place to nothing but her
sense of loyalty. There were not only Rajputs, as the Rajputs knew,
who could be true to a high ideal. "I am sure that whoever that man is
he must be the link between us and the safety Mahommed Gunga spoke of.
Otherwise, why does he stay behind? Native officers who have servants
take their servants with them, as a rule."

"Well?"

"Give the word! Let us at least get in touch with safety!"

"For myself, no. For you, yes! I have been weak with you, dear. I
have let my selfish pleasure in having you near me overcome my sense of
duty--that, and my faithless fear that you would not be properly
provided for. I think, too, that I have never quite induced myself to
trust natives sufficiently--even native gentlemen. You shall go,
Rosemary. You shall go as soon as I can get word to Mahommed Gunga's
man. Call that old woman in."