sed him through cholera when even his own
servants had fled. The Kashmiri, who had the dainty flower-like
sweetness of a Japanese maid, and practically the same code, had lived
in his protection before this. After the nursing incident he had
married her, with benefit of clergy, and the result had been hell, a
living suicide, ostracism. A good officer, he still remained Deputy
Commissioner, the highest official of the district, but the social
excellence was wiped out--he was a pariah, an outcast. And the girl,
who now could not remain just a native, could not attain to the dignity
of a Deputy-Commissioner Memsahib.

Barlow knew several such. Of course of drifters he knew also, the
white inland beach-combers--men who had come out to India to fill
subordinate positions in the telegraph, or the railroad, or mills; and,
as they sloughed off European caste, and possessed of the eternal
longing for woman companionship, had married natives. Barlow shuddered
at mentally rehearsed visions of the degradation. Thus everything
logical was on that side of the ledger--all against the Gulab. On the
other side was the fierce compelling fascination that the girl held for
him.

Yes, at Mandhatta they would both sacrifice to the gods. Curiously
Elizabeth stood in the computation a cipher; probably he would marry
her, but the escapement from disaster, from wreck, would not be because
of any moral sustaining from her, any invisible thread of love binding
him to the daughter of the Resident. He knew that until he parted from
Bootea at Mandhatta his soul would be torn by a strife that was
foolish, contemptible, that should never have originated.

CHAPTER XXVII

And next day when Barlow, sitting his horse, still riding as the
Afghan, went forth, his going was somewhat like the departure of a
Nawab. Chief Kassim and a dozen officers had clanked down the marble
steps from the palace with him and stood lined up at the gates raising
their deep voices in full-throated salaams and blessings of Allah upon
his head.

The horsemen of the guard, spears to boot-leg, fierce-looking riders of
the plain, were lined up four abreast. The _nakara_ in the open court
of the palace was thundering a farewell like a salute of light
artillery.

The _tonga_ with Bootea had gone on before with a guard of two
out-riders.

All that day they travelled to the south, on their left, against the
eastern sky, the lofty peaks of the Vindhya mountains