Back, make way! 'tis an
order."
The faces of the soldiers that had been wreathed in revenge and
blood-lust when Barlow had been brought, were now friendly, and there
were cries of "Salaam, brother! salaam, Flower of the Desert!" for it
had been spread that the Gulab had discovered the murderer, had
denounced him.
"Brave little Gulab!" Barlow said in a low voice, bending his head to
look into her eyes, for he felt the arm trembling against his hand.
She did not answer, and he knew that she was sobbing.
When they were past the turbulent crowd he said, "Bootea, your people
will all have fled or been captured."
"Yes, Sahib," she gasped.
"Perhaps even your maid servant will have been taken."
"No, Sahib, they would not take her; her home is here."
By her side he travelled to where the now deserted tents of the decoits
stood silent and dark, like little pagodas of sullen crime. A light
flickered in one tent, and silhouetted against its canvas side they
could see the form of a woman crouched with her head in her hands.
"The maid is there," Barlow said: "but it is not enough.
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