"At the heavenborn's service!"
"Mahommed Khan! Thank God!"
The old man's shabbiness was very obvious as he faced her, with his
back against the iron-studded door; but he stood erect as a man of
thirty, and his medals and his sword-hilt and his silver scabbard-tip
were bright.
"Tell me, Mahommed Khan, you have seen my husband?"
He bowed.
"You have spoken to him?"
The old man bowed again.
"He left you in my keeping, heavenborn. I am to bring you safe
to Jundhra!"
She held her hand out and he took it like a cavalier, bending until
he could touch her fingers with his lips.
"What is the meaning of this hurrying of the guns to Jundhra, Risaldar?"
"Who knows, memsahib! The orders of the Sirkar come, and we of the
service must obey. I am thy servant and the Sirkar's!"
"You, old friend--that were servant, as you choose to call it, to
my husband's father! I am a proud woman to have such friends at call!"
She pointed to the ayah, recovering sulkily and rearranging the shawl
about her shoulders. "That I call service, Risaldar.
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