Mary showed her shrewdness by acting as if the two men were the friends they had always shown themselves when their former meetings took place.

“Why, Almos,” she said, forcing a smile in which there was no pleasure, “we have not met before since you came to my home and my father gave you medicine that cured your illness.  How do you do?”

And she had the courage to advance a step and offer her dainty hand, but the brute refused it.  With a shake of his head he retreated a step and said: 

“My caste will not allow me.”

“But it allowed you to take drink and food from my hand and medicine from that of my father,” she said, stung by the repulse.

“I did evil, for which Allah has pardoned me; the faithful have been summoned to drive the infidels from India; the followers of Islam have heard the call, and they are flocking to the banner of the Prophet from all parts of Hindostan; not one infidel shall be left in all the land.”

During these few moments Mustad stood directly behind the leader, with a fixed grin in which there was a certain shamefacedness, for with all his fierce fanaticism he could not forget the gentle, sweet nature of the one who had become a prisoner nor the unvarying kindness he had received at her hands.  True, the devil in his nature was roused, and there could be little question that he was acting as guide to these murderers while they hunted for the doctor and his family.

“And do you mean to help kill those who have been your friends, Mustad?” she asked, with her penetrating eyes fixed upon him.

Had the two been alone, it is possible the edge would have been taken off the response, but with four Ghoojurs at his elbow, and one of them the furious Almos, he dared not be behind them in savagery.

“This is a war for our deen; when we fight for that we know none but the followers of the Prophet!  The Inglese loge stole our homes and our land from us!  They have put lard on the cartridges of the Sepoys that the faithful may become unclean and be shut out of paradise!  I hate them all!  I have no friends among them!  I shall never sheath my knife nor stay my hand while one remains alive in India.”

“Let it be as you say,” she calmly replied, seeing that it was useless to hold converse with the wretch.

Her wish was to keep the party where they were until Jack and her father could have time to return.  Here would be an opportunity for the young man to make a few more bull’s-eyes, but Almos was too wise to run the risk.  He was not afraid to fight two men, even though not so well armed as they, but his wish was first to place the young woman beyond their reach—­for when the fight came it would be to the death.

“No harm shall come to you,” said the leader in a gentler tone.  “Walk forward over the path and we will guard you against harm.”

“Whither do you intend to take me?” she asked, debating whether to obey or to make a fight then and there and force matters to an issue.