ood glowering indignantly upon the grovelling bearer.

"It is the opium, Sahib," he declared; "this fool spends all his time
in the bazaar smoking with people of ill repute. If the Presence will
but admonish him with the whip our slumbers will not again be
disturbed."

The bearer, running true to the tenets of native servants, put up the
universal alibi--a flat denial.

"Sahib, you who are my father and my mother, be not angry, for I have
not slept. I observed the Sahib pass, but as he spoke not, I thought
he had matters of import upon his mind and wished not to be disturbed."

"A liar--by Mother Gunga!" The _chowkidar_ prodded him in the ribs
with the end of his staff, and turning in disgust, passed out.

"Come, you fool!" Barlow commanded, returning to his room, and, sitting
down wearily upon the bed, held up a leg.

The bearer knelt and in silence stripped the _putties_ from his
master's limbs, unlaced the shoes, and pulled off the breeches.

When Barlow had slipped on the pyjamas handed him, he said: "Tell the
_chowkidar_ to come to me at his waking from the first call of the
crows."

CHAPTER XIII

An omen of dire import all thugs believe is to hear the cry of a kite
between midnight and dawn; to hear it before midnight does not matter,
for the sleeper in turning over smothers the impending disaster beneath
his body. But Captain Barlow had put up no such defence if evil hung
over him, for when the _chowkidar_ stood outside the door calling
softly, "Captain Sahib! Captain Sahib!" Barlow lay just as he had
flopped on the bed, his tiredness having held him as one dead.

Gently the soft voice of the _chowkidar_ pulled him back out of his
Nirvana of non-existence, and he called sleepily, "What is it?"

"It is Jungwa," the watchman answered, "and I have received the Sahib's
order to come at this hour."

Then Barlow remembered. He swung his feet to the floor, saying, "Come!"

When the watchman had walked out of his sandals to approach in his bare
feet, the Captain said, "Is your tongue still to remain in your mouth,
Jungwa, or has it been made sacrifice to the knife for the sin of
telling in the cookhouse tales of your Sahib and last night?"

"No, Sahib, I have not spoken. I am a Meena of the Ossary _jat_. In
Jaipur we guard the treasury and the zenanna of the Raja, and it is our
chief who puts the _tika_ upon the forehead of the Maharaja when he
ascends to the throne. Think you, then, Sahib