ewel-hilted knife; a _tulwar_ hung from his left shoulder. As he
moved here and there, there was a sinuous grace, panther-like, as if he
strode on soft pads. At rest his tall figure had the set-up of a
soldier.

As the three in the brake studied the handsome Ajeet, a girl stepped
forward and stood contemplating them.

"By Jove!" the exclamation had been Captain Barlow's; and Elizabeth,
with the devilish premonition of an acute woman knew that it was a
masculine's involuntary tribute to feminine attractivity.

She had turned to look at the Captain.

Nana Sahib, little less vibrant than a woman in his sensitive
organisation, showed his even, white teeth: "Don't blame you, old
chap," he said; "she's all that. I fancy that's the girl they call
Gulab Begum. Am I right, Sirdar?"

"Yes, Prince," Jean Baptiste answered. "The girl is a relative of the
handsome Ajeet."

"She's simply stunning!" Captain Barlow said, as it were, meditatively.

But Nana Sahib, knowing perfectly well what this observation would do
to the austere, exact, dominating daughter of a precise man, the
Resident, muttered to himself: "Colossal ass! an impressionable cuss
should have a _purdah_ hung over his soul--or be gagged."

"One of their _nautch_ girls, I suppose;" Elizabeth thus eased some of
the irritation over Barlow's admiration in a well-bred sneer.

"Yes," Baptiste declared; "it is said she dances wonderfully."

"You name her the Gulab Begum, General,--that is a Moslem title and,
from the turbans and caste-marks on the men, they seem to be Hindus; I
suppose Gulab Begum is her stage name, is it?"

Elizabeth was exhibiting unusual interest in a native--that is for
Elizabeth, and Nana Sahib chuckled softly as he answered: "Names mean
little in India; I know high-caste Brahmins who have given their
children low-caste names to make them less an object of temptation to
the gods of destruction. Also, the Gulab may have been stolen from the
harem of some Nawab by this bandit."

The Gulab suggested more a Rajput princess than a dancing girl. No
ring pierced the thin nostrils of her Grecian nose; neither from her
ears hung circles of gold or brass, or silver; and the slim ankles that
peeped from a rich skirt were guiltless of anklets. On the wrist of
one arm was a curious gold bangle that must have held a large ruby, for
at times the sun flicked from the moving wrist splashes of red wine.
Indeed the whole atmosphere of the girl was simp