'I must let her speak to me first.'
'No, no; let my master listen to me! She is a witch; she will enslave him.'
'Nonsense, Subdul; I know her, I tell you. Be silent!' murmured Tom, whose heart was beating strangely.
And all this time the White Ranee, with veil thrown back, and face looking pure and spiritual in the moonlight, was making her way quietly through the sleepers of the camp towards the spot where Tom was standing. They were alone now, Subdul having disappeared. Tom did not move, for a spell seemed to be over him; so she went close to him and laid her hand on his arm. Then a sudden trembling seized him.
'Who are you?' he said, in a low voice.
'Surely you know me,' she answered. 'I know you, Tom Gregory. Why did you run away from Delhi without seeing me again?'
'Why are you here?' he said sternly.
'You are impolite, my dear boy. A question should be answered.'
'This is no time or place for amenities, and you know it. Answer me! Are you a prisoner? For if so I will take you away with me and protect you honourably until I can restore you to your own people. If you are not a prisoner—if you have given yourself up to the enemies of your race, then I will leave you to reap your own punishment.'
The lady laughed. 'So stern all of a sudden!' she said.