That brought them back to realities.

“We must scoot,” said Roy.  “It’ll be dark, and there’s only a slip of a moon.”

“It’s been delicious!” she sighed; and they kissed mutually—­a lingering kiss.

Then they were off, racing the swift-footed dusk....

Skirting the city, they noticed scurrying groups of figures, shouting to each other as they ran; and the next instant, Roy’s ear caught the ominous hum of Sunday morning.

“Good God!  They’re out again.  Hi—­You!  What’s the tamasha?” he called to the nearest group.

They responded with wild gestures, and fled on.  But one lagged a little, being fat and scant of breath; and Roy shouted again.  This time the note of command took effect.

“Where are you all running?  Is there trouble?” he asked.

“Big trouble, Sahib—­Amritsar,” answered the fleshly one, wiping the dusty sweat from his forehead, and shaking it unceremoniously from his finger-tips.  “Word comes that our leaders are taken.  Mahatma Ghandi, also.  The people are burning and looting; Bank-ghar,[29] Town Hall-ghar; killing many Sahibs and one Mem-sahib. Hai! hai!  Now there will be hartal again; Committee ki raj.  No food; no work. Hai! hai![30] Ghandi ki jai!”

“Confound the man!” muttered Roy, not referring to the woebegone one.  “Look here, Rose, if they’re wedged up near Anarkali, we must change our route.  I expect the squadron’s out; and I ought to be with it——­”

“Thank God, you’re not.  It’s quite bad enough——­” She set her teeth.  “Oh, come on.”

Back they sped, at a hand-gallop, past the Fort and the Badshahi Mosque; then, neck and neck down the long straight road, that vibrant roar growing louder with every stride.

Near the Church they slackened speed.  The noise had become terrific, like a hundred electric engines; and there was more than excitement in it—­there was fury.

“Sunday was a treat to this,” remarked Roy.  “We shan’t get on to the Mall.”

“We can go through Mozung,” said Rose coolly.  “But I want to see—­as far as one can.  The Pater’s bound to be there.”

Roy, while admiring her coolness, detected beneath it a repressed intensity, very unlike her.  But his own urgent sensations left no room for curiosity; and round the next swerve they drew rein in full view of a sight that neither would forget while they lived.

The wide road, stretching away to the Lahori gate, was thronged with a shouting, gesticulating human barrier; bobbing heads and lifted arms, hurling any missile that came to hand—­stones, bricks, lumps of refuse—­at the courageous few who held them in check.

Cavalry and police, as on Sunday, blocked the turning into the Mall; and Roy instantly recognised the silhouette of Lance, sitting erect and rigid, doubtless thinking unutterable things.