"Sahib," he said, "my father awaits you," waving his hand in the direction of the castle wall.
But home was the word. "Yes, home," repeated Mr. Desborough—"home to his mother."
"Try a tub first," suggested the major.
Rattam was speaking to his shikaree.
"You have done my bidding, and you have done it well," he said like a prince. "Now bring me home the wolf you have caught. Bring it home alive to the vacant den in the castle gardens."
Tara Ghur salaamed before his chieftain till the dust rose up in a cloud between them. Oliver grasped the hand of his dusky friend once more. How was it he was always feeling Rattam more of a man than himself, or far too much of a girl?
Now that poor little Carl was made safe, so that he could not hurt any one, Rattam alighted, and drew nearer to the group on the grass.
"Talk to Carly again, Kathleen," Mr. Desborough was saying; "I believe he knows you. But you must not kiss him until I tell you it is safe," he added quickly, as she threw her arms around her long-lost brother.
Kathleen paused, and looked up in her father's face, bewildered for a moment.
"Then I will not do it, papa. I'll never forget again to mind what you say."