With a sailor's instinctive fondness for children, Rattier, who had resigned his limping horse into the hands of one of the Arab beaters, turned towards him.
"May I be permitted?" he said simply, and held out his arms. The child made a restless little movement towards him. "He'll show it me!" he cried joyously. "He'll take me!"
Again she reined back, looking from one to the other with patent misgiving.
"No!" she cried sharply. "You shall not touch him, either of you!" She made an appealing gesture towards Despard. "You must see me back to the camp!" she said.
He was smiling with tranquil amusement, a smile which seemed to rouse her to anger.
"Let us go now, at once!" she said, and wheeled her horse.
Despard nodded, but did not dismiss the smile.
"Might I inform you that Aylmer has been my friend since our Sandhurst days, and that I have shared his intimacy with Commandant Rattier for the last five years? I can vouch for them; I really can."
She reined in her horse again and sat looking at all three with doubt still lurking in her eyes. Aylmer met her expression with unrestrained amazement. He found her mistrust of him a conundrum to which there was no answer. The Frenchman's shoulders rose and fell almost imperceptibly. His head was slanted with deferential acquiescence. He laid his hand upon Aylmer's arm.
"Your horse?" he interposed.