He raised his black eyes and scanned the form of Ayub Alli. There was a quizzical smile on his lips as he said:
"Go back and sit thee upon the divan."
When Barlow had taken his place, the Chief laughed aloud, saying, "Well done, Captain Sahib; thou art perfect as a Patan; even to the manner of sitting down one would have thought that, except for a saddle, thou hadst always sat upon thy heels."
Barlow smiled good humouredly, saying, "It is even so; I am Captain Barlow. And this,"—he tapped the loose baggy trousers of the Afghan hillman, and the sheepskin coat with the wool inside—"was not in the way of deceit but for protection on the road."
"It is well thought of," the Pindari declared, "for a Sahib travelling alone through Rajasthan would be robbed by a Mahratta or killed by a Rajput. But as to the deceiving of Amir Khan, dost thou suppose that he gives to a Patan the paper of admittance, or of passing, such as he gave to thee. Even at the audience I was pleased with thy manner of disguise."
Barlow was startled. "Did you know then that I was a Sahib—how did you know?"
"Because thou wert placed in my hand in the way of protection."
Then Barlow surmised that of all outside his own caste there could be but one, and he knew that she was in the camp, for he had seen her. "It was a woman."
"A rare woman; even I, Chief of the Pindaris—and we are not bred to softness—say that she is a pearl."
"They call her the Gulab," Barlow ventured.