"Mahommed Gunga!" she muttered to herself. "I wonder whether he
would come to my assistance if I needed him. He fought once--or so he
says--for the British; he might be loyal still. I wonder what he is
doing here, and what--Oh, I wonder!"

She was very careful not to seem to look sideways, or seek acquaintance
with the wearer of the boots; had she done so, she would have gained
nothing, for the moment that he caught sight of her through the opened
door he drew back into a shadow, and swore lustily. What he said to
himself would have been little comfort to her.

"By the breath of God!" he growled. "These preachers of new creeds are
the last straw, if one were wanting! They choose the one soft place
where Mohammedan and Hindoo think alike, and smite! If I wanted to raise
hell from end to end of Hind, I too would preach a new creed, and turn
good-looking women loose to wander on the country-side!--Ah!" He drew
back even further, as he spied the egret and the sabre and the stallion
cavorting down the street--then thought better of it and strode
swaggering to the doorway, and stood, crimson-coated, in the sunlight,
stroking upward insolently at his black, fierce-barbered beard. There
was a row of medal ribbons on his left breast that bore out something at
least of his contention; he had been loyal to the British once, whether
he was so now or not.

The man on the charger eyed him sideways and passed on. Mahommed Gunga
waited. One of the prince's followers rode close to him--leaned low from
the saddle--and leered into his face.

"Knowest not enough to salute thy betters?" he demanded.

Mahommed Gunga made a movement with his right hand in the direction of
his left hip--one that needed no explanation; the other legged his
horse away, and rode on, grinning nastily. To reassure himself of his
superiority over everybody but his master, he spun his horse presently
so that its rump struck against a tented stall, and upset tent and
goods. Then he spent two full minutes in outrageous execration of the
men who struggled underneath the gaudy cloth, before cantering away,
looking, feeling, riding like a fearless man again. Mahommed Gunga
sneered after him, and spat, and turned his back on the sunshine and the
street.

"I had a mind to teach that Hindoo who his betters are!" he growled.

"Come in, risaldar-sahib!" said a voice persuasively. "By your own
showing the hour is not yet--why spill blood before the hour?"

The Rajpu