ich no life has been taken, so you
may eat. Then the _chowkidar_ will go with you."

Jungwa brought the breakfast and put it down, saying, "I will wait,
Sahib, outside the bathroom door."

"Here is money--ten rupees for whatever is needed. Be courteous to the
lady, for she is not a _nautchni_."

"The Sahib would entertain none such," the _chowkidar_ answered with a
grave salaam.

"Damn the thing!" Barlow groaned.

CHAPTER XIV

An hour later Barlow, mounted on a stalky Cabuli polo-pony, rode to the
Residency, happy over the papers in his pocket, but troubling over how
he could explain their possession and keep the girl out of it. To even
mention the Gulab, unless he fabricated a story, would let escape the
night-ride, and, no doubt, in the perversity of things, Resident Hodson
would want to know where she was and where he had taken her, and insist
on having her produced for an official inquisition. The Resident, a
machine, would sacrifice a native woman without a tremor to the
official gods.

Barlow could formulate no plausible method; he could not hide the death
of the two native messengers, and would simply have to take the stand
of, "Here is this message from His Excellency and as to how I came by
it is of as little importance as an order from the War Office
regulating the colour of thread that attaches buttons to a tunic."

He turned the Cabuli up the wide drive that led to the Residency, the
big white walled bungalow in which Hodson lived, and shook his riding
crop toward Elizabeth who was reading upon the verandah. He swung from
the saddle, and held out his hand to the girl, saying cheerily, "Hello,
Beth! Didn't you ride this morning, or are you back early?"

The novel seemed to require support of the girl's hand, or she had not
observed that of the caller. Her face, always emotionless, was
repellent in its composure as she said; "Father is just inside in his
office with a native, and I fancy it's one of the usual dark things of
mystery, for he asked me to sit here by the window that he might have
both air and privacy; I'm to warn off all who might stand here against
the wall with an open ear."

"I'll pull a chair up and chat to you till he's--"

"No, Captain Barlow--" Barlow winced at this formality--"Father, I'm
sure, wants you in this matter; in fact, I think a _chuprassi_ is on
his way now to your bungalow with the Resident's salaams."

Barlow laid his fingers on the girl's shoulder: