“Behold it!” said Harold, as two men, supporting either end of a long pole on their swarthy shoulders, carried a doli into the veranda and set it down.
The party went out to see it.
“This is the Mission Miss Sahiba’s special conveyance,” observed Mr. Hartley. “In places like this where a gári is not to be found, or, if available, could hardly be used in the narrow, crowded streets, a doli is a most convenient vehicle.”
Alicia praised her doli as much as she could, though thinking that a big square box had not much of grace or elegance to recommend it. She admired the pink print with which it was covered, and the neat green blinds at the sides. Alicia did not utter aloud the question in her mind, “I wonder how I shall pack myself into my box?”
However, this is an art easily learned, and Alicia soon felt fairly at home in her doli. The men lifted the pole on their shoulders; and Robin, delighted with the success of his work and the thanks which it brought, paced with long strides beside it as it made its first trial trip. Mr. Hartley and Harold re-entered the bungalow and went to their several occupations.
“Why should I not go at once to the fort, and give Harold a surprise by my promptness in obeying his wishes?” said Alicia to Robin from her doli. “Just bring me my picture-book and Urdu Bible. You will see them on my table. I will make my first call this morning.” Alicia had never forgotten Robin’s answer to her question, “Shall I not make a capital missionary?” and was impatient to show him that his implied doubts were quite unjust.
Robin ran back for the required books. He was highly amused at his pretty sister’s energy, and regarded Alicia’s first essay at zenana-visiting much as he would have regarded a first attempt at skating. To him it was rather a matter for fun.
The lady and Robin proceeded, chatting cheerfully as the doli jogged along, as far as the outer gate of the fort, which was encompassed by a mud wall. The tall building itself was of brick, quite devoid of windows, but with squares of open brick-work so let into the upper part of the house as to give the appearance of perforations, through which the inmates of the zenana, themselves unseen, could peep at the world below.
“It looks rather like a prison,” observed Alicia, “and I see no bell at the gate.”
“We must rattle the chain to give notice of our coming,” said Robin, who had just helped to extricate Alicia from her square box.