joyously, for, there being no immediate matter
of a raid and throat-cutting, and little of disciplinary duties, time
hung heavy on the hands of these grown-up children.

Hunsa was remembered by several of the Pindaris as having ridden with
them before; and he also had suffered an apostacy of faith for he now
swore by the Beard of the Prophet, and turned out at the call of the
_muezzin_, and testified to the fact that there was but one god--Allah.
And he had known his Amir Khan well when he had told the Dewan that the
fierce Pindari was gentle enough when it came to a matter of feminine
beauty, for Bootea made an impression.

Of course it would have taken a more obdurate male than Amir Khan to
not appreciate the exquisite charm of the Gulab; no art could have
equalled the inherent patrician simplicity and sweetness of her every
thought and action. Perhaps her determination to ingratiate herself
into the good graces of the Chief was intensified, brought to a finer
perfection, by the motive that had really instigated her to accept this
terrible mission, her love for the Englishman, Barlow.

Of course this was not an unusual thing; few women have lived who are
not capable of such a sacrifice for some one; the "grand passion," when
it comes, and rarely out of reasoning, smothers everything in the heart
of almost every woman--once. It had come to Bootea; foolishly,
impossible of an attainment, everything against its ultimate
accomplished happiness, but nothing of that mattered. She was there,
waiting--waiting for the service that Fate had whispered into her being.

And she danced divinely--that is the proper word for it. Her dancing
was a revelation to Amir Khan who had seen _nautchnis_ go through their
sensuous, suggestive, voluptuous twistings of supple forms, disfigured
by excessive decoration--bangles, anklets, nose rings, high-coloured
swirling robes, and with voices worn to a rasping timbre that shrilled
rather than sang the _ghazal_ (love song) as they gyrated. But here
was something different. Bootea's art was the art that was taught
princesses in the palaces of the Rajput Ranas, not the bidding of a
courtesan for the desire of a man. Her dress was a floating cloud of
gauzy muslin: and her sole evident adornment the ruby-headed gold
snake-bracelet, the iron band of widowhood being concealed higher on
her arm. Some intuition had taught the girl that this mode would give
rise in the warrior's heart to a feel