fixed, as with amazement, at the instant of Amber's appearance.

Instinctively, as soon as he had mastered his initial stupefaction,
Amber stepped forward and past the girl, placing himself between her
and this preposterous apparition, as if to shield her. He was neither
overly imaginative nor of a romantic turn of mind; but, the
circumstances reviewed, it's nothing to his discredit that he
entertained a passing suspicion of some curious conspiracy against the
girl, thought of an ambuscade, and with quick eyes raked the
surroundings for signs of a confederate of the Bengali.

He found, however, nothing alarming, no indication that the man were
not alone; nor, for that matter, could he reasonably detect in the
fellow's bearing anything but a spirit of conciliation almost servile.
None the less he held himself wary and alert, and was instant to halt
the babu when he, with the air of a dog cringing to his master's feet
for punishment, would have drawn nearer.

"Stop right there!" Amber told him crisply; and got for response
obedience, a low salaam, and the Hindu salutation accorded only to
persons of high rank: "Hazoor!" But before the babu could say more the
American addressed the girl. "What did he do?" he inquired, without
looking at her. "Frighten your horse?"

"Just that." The girl's tone was edged with temper. "He jumped out from
behind that woodpile; the horse shied and threw me."

"You're not hurt, I trust?"

"No--thank you; but"--with a nervous laugh--"I'm furiously angry."