“At the heavenborn's service!”
“Mahommed Khan! Thank God!”
The old man's shabbiness was very obvious as he faced her, with his back against the iron-studded door; but he stood erect as a man of thirty, and his medals and his sword-hilt and his silver scabbard-tip were bright.
“Tell me, Mahommed Khan, you have seen my husband?”
He bowed.
“You have spoken to him?”
The old man bowed again.
“He left you in my keeping, heavenborn. I am to bring you safe to Jundhra!”
She held her hand out and he took it like a cavalier, bending until he could touch her fingers with his lips.
“What is the meaning of this hurrying of the guns to Jundhra, Risaldar?”