rattas; so the Dewan
has brought men from Karowlee to go into the camp of the Pindaris in
disguise and slay the chief for a reward."

This information coming from Bootea was astounding. Neither Resident
Hodson nor Captain Barlow had suspected that there had been a leak.

"And was there talk of this message from the British to--?" Barlow
checked.

"To the Sahib?" Bootea asked. "Not of the message; but it was
whispered that one would go to the Pindari camp to talk with Amir Khan,
and perhaps it was the Sahib they meant. And perhaps they knew he
waited for orders from the government."

Then suddenly it flashed upon Barlow that because of this he had been
marked. The foul riding in the game of polo that so nearly put him out
of commission--it had been deliberately foul, he knew that, but he had
attributed it to a personal anger on the part of the Mahratta officer,
bred of rivalry in the game and the fanatical hate of an individual
Hindu for an Englishman.

"Now that a message has come will the Sahib go to the Pindari camp?"
Bootea persisted.

"Why do you ask, Gulab?"

"Not in the way of treachery, but because the Sahib is now like a god;
and because I may again be of service, for those who will slay Amir
Khan will also slay the Sahib."

"Gulab,--"

Barlow's voice was drowned by yells of terror in the outer room.

"Thieves! Thieves have broken in to rob, and they have stolen my lamp!
_Chowkidar, chowkidar_! wake, son of a pig!"

It was the bearer, who, suddenly wakened by some noise, had in the dark
groped for his lamp and found it missing.

"Heavens!" the Captain exclaimed. "Now the cook house will be
empty--the servants will come!" He rubbed a hand perplexedly over his
forehead. "Quick, Gulab, you must hide!"

He swung open a wooden door between his room and a bedroom next.
Within he said: "There's a bed, and you must sleep here till daylight,
then I will have the _chowkidar_ take you to where you wish to go. You
couldn't go in the dark anyway. Bar the door; you will be quite safe;
don't be frightened." He touched her cheek with his fingers: "Salaam,
little girl." Then, going out, he opened the door leading to the room
of clamour, exclaiming angrily, "You fool, why do you scream in your
dreams?"

"God be thanked! it is the Sahib." The bearer flopped to his knees and
put his hands in abasement upon his master's feet.

Jungwa had rushed into the room, staff in hand, at the outcry. Now he
st