“Nay, what think you, sahib?”
“I think many hours. There may be those that watch, or some that ride after me. I think I shall not return until long after daylight, and then there will be no suspicions. Give me a token that will admit me safely back into Hanadra—some sign that the priests will know, and a pass to show to any one that bids me halt.”
The priest held out his hand. “Take off that ring of mine!” he answered. “That is the sacred ring of Kharvani—and all men know it. None will touch thee or refuse thee anything, do they have but the merest sight of it!”
The Risaldar drew off a clumsy silver ring, set with three stones—a sapphire and a ruby and an emerald, each one of which was worth a fortune by itself. He slipped it on his own finger and turned it round slowly, examining it.
“See how I trust thee,” said the priest.
“More than I do thee!” muttered the Risaldar.
“I hear my brother!” growled the Risaldar after another minute. “Be ready to show the way!”
He walked across the room to Ruth, tore a covering from a divan and wrapped her in it; then he opened the outer door for his half-brother.
“Is it well?” he asked in the Rajput tongue.
“All well!” boomed the half-brother, eying the unbound priest with unconcealed surprise.