And the woman responded in a very meek tone, "Salaam."
"Come, mem-sahib," said Ram Deen, as he resumed his seat on the mail-cart; "the captain sahib awaits thee."
When they were abreast of the fire, she called in a faint, tremulous voice, "Harry, Harry, my dear husband! I am very tired, and very cold. Won't you come to me?"
Leaving the hostler in charge of the mail-cart, Ram Deen followed the captain as he carried his wife to the fire.
Seating her on the log, Captain Barfield knelt beside his wife, chafing and kissing her hands.
"Thank God, you found me!" he sobbed.
"The ayah told me a few hours after you left me that that—that woman had been seen to join you beyond Serya Tal; so I and the baby came to help you. You still love us, dearest?" she asked, pleadingly.
"My beloved, I am not worthy of you! There is a sword in my heart!" And he bowed his head on her lap and wept, whilst she stroked his hair with a slender hand.
"God has been very good to me to-night," she said, softly.