"Not yet. When the next procession passes round the corner yonder, come out to look at it; you will not be noticed. Have you the blanket?"
"It is here," he said, holding one up; "and they are all ready yonder," and he pointed to the trees, where there was a dull glow as of the embers of a small fire—"palankeen, horses and all."
"Be careful of her as you carry her out," she continued. "If she is hurt——"
The man laughed. "There is no fear," he said; "she will be carried daintily like a child, and cannot struggle in this."
"Good," she replied; "now be careful, and watch."
"Art thou satisfied?" she continued to Moro Trimmul, who had remained behind the door.
"Yes; thou art true, Gunga. I am true also, and here is the zone; put it on, and let it shame hers," he replied, taking the ornament from underneath his waist-cloth where he had concealed it.
"Ah!" she cried, taking it and clasping it round her waist, "thou art——"
"What is that?" he cried, interrupting her and catching her arm; "there is some disturbance without. What can it be? Listen!"
"I will look," she said; "stay thou here."