Surely it is my right
to choose the way?"
"Leave me, then! I relieve you of your trust. I will not have him
tortured in my room, or anywhere!"
Mahommed Khan bowed low.
"Under favor, heavenborn," he answered, "my trust is to your husband.
I can be released by him, or by death, not otherwise."
"Once, and for all, Mahommed Khan, I will not have you torture him
in here!"
"Memsahib, I have yet to ride for succor! At daybreak, when these
Hindus learn that the guns will not come back, they will rise to a
man. Even now we must find a hiding-place or--it is not good even
to think what I might find on my return!"
He leaned over the priest again, but without the charcoal this time.
"Speak, thou!" he ordered, growling in Hindustanee through his savage
black mustache. "I have yet to hear what price a Hindu sets on immunity
from torture!"
But the priest, it seemed, had formed a new idea. He had been looking
through puckered eyes at Ruth, keen, cool calculation in his glance,
and in spite of the discomfort of his strained position he contrived
to nod.
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