"Not half so much as if we don't show up," said Jim Dent "D'ye see, Jack, it's uncommon, but not impossible, for travellers to strike across the hills this way. Now, if we pass through this village in an open sort of fashion, it won't make a tenth of the talk as if we were to slip off and never be seen again. Then there'd be such a chatter in the country-side as we don't want to start."
"I see what you mean, Jim," returned Jack. "We must hope that we can get through the place quietly."
But Jack's hopes proved utterly vain. Half a mile outside the village they were met by a dozen of the leading inhabitants, each wearing a fine new silk putsoe, and with a gaung baung of gorgeous colour on his head. The strangers were politely bidden to take up their residence in the house of the headman, and to be present at the great feast which was that night to open the week of religious festival. It was impossible to refuse these attentions, and the little group of travellers, whose keenest wish was to pass unnoticed, entered the place under the stare of many hundreds of eyes.
A large room was set at their disposal in the house of the headman, and here they talked together.
"It's vexing, but it can't be helped," said Jack. "We must slip off again in the morning. After all, this fandango, you say, will last a week. At that rate, we shall get a big start of the people assembled here, and shall outrun the country gossip far enough."
CHAPTER XX.
THE DANCING GIRL.
After the dusk had fallen, the travellers were conducted by the headman himself, a white-headed old fellow, who showed them the utmost respect, to the spot where the festival was to be opened with a play and a performance of dancing girls.