way of accepting his
respects.

The Chief, knowing this was the one Bootea had spoken of, wrote on a
slip of yellow paper something in Persian and tendered it to Barlow,
saying, "That will be your passport when you would speak with me if
there is in your heart something to be said."

Going, Barlow saw that he had written but the one word [Transcriber's
note: three Afghan or Persian characters], translated, "the Afghan."

Hunsa, too, had watched for the coming of Barlow. The same whisper
that had come to Bootea's ears that he would ride as a Patan had been
told him by the Dewan. Knowing that when Barlow arrived he would
endeavour to see the Chief in his quarters, Hunsa daily hovered near
the palace and chatted with the guard at the gates; the heavy double
teak-wood gates, on one side of which was painted, on a white
stone-wall, a war-elephant and the other side a Rajput horseman, his
spear held at the charge. This was the allegorical representation, so
general all over Mewar, of Rana Pertab charging a Mogul prince mounted
on an elephant.

Thus Hunsa had seen the tall Patan and heard him make the request for
an audience with Amir Khan. It was the walk, the slight military
precision, that caused the decoit to mutter, "No hill Afghan that."

And when Barlow had come forth the Bagree trailed him up through the
chowk; and just as the man he followed came to the end of the narrow
crowded way, Hunsa saw Bootea, coming from the opposite direction,
suddenly stop, and her eyes go wide as they were fixed on the face of
the tall Patan.

"It is the accursed Sahib," Hunsa snarled between his grinding teeth.
He brooded over the advent of the messenger and racked his animal brain
for some scheme to accomplish his mission of murder, and counteract the
other's influence. And presently a bit of rare deviltry crept into his
mind, joint partner with the murder thought. If he could but kill the
Chief and have the blame of it cast upon the Sahib, who, no doubt,
would have his interviews with Amir Khan alone.

During the time Hunsa had been there, several times in the palace,
somewhat of a privileged character, known to be connected with the
Gulab, he had familiarised himself with the plan of the marble
building: the stairways that ran down to the central court; the many
passages; the marble fret-work screen niches and mysterious chambers.

Either Hunsa or Sookdee was now always trailing Barlow--his every move
was known. And t