'Yes, yes,' said Tom low and hoarsely. 'Go home and I will come some day. Perhaps when you want me the most.'
'I want you now,' said Aglaia.
'Missy come away; come quick!' urged the poor little ayah whom Hoosanee's frantic signs were goading into desperation. 'The sun it is coming and mem sahib she scold poor Sumbaten.'
'Go on dear,' said Tom, lingering and feeling half disposed to follow her, while Hoosanee was writhing over his young master's folly and at his own inability to make him do what was wise, and then Snow-queen, the wisest of them all, as Subdul Khan said later, settled the question for them. She was impatient of standing, and Tom touched her inadvertently, and all in a moment she bounded away. She was seen darting like a flash of light across the Maidan and into the wilderness beyond. It was a wonderful sight, so said the few Europeans who witnessed it, marvelling at the daring and perfect horsemanship of a native. Later it was said that there was something uncanny in the business, for the beautiful white horse and its rider, though looked for diligently by one or two, were not seen again in Jhansi.
When Aglaia had finished her usual prayer that evening, she stopped. 'Mother,' she said, 'may I say something from myself?'
'Certainly you may, darling,' said Mrs. White.
Then Aglaia shut her eyes up tightly and clasped her hands. 'Oh! God!' she said. 'Thank you for sending Tom. Please may he come back soon!'
After that she lay down contentedly. 'I was going to cry,' she said. 'But I won't now. He's sure to come, isn't he, mother?'
Before her mother could answer she was asleep, and every night, up to a certain night that I shall have to tell of presently, she insisted upon adding this petition to her prayers.