CHAPTER XI
Bootea's eyes glistened like stars when, lowering a hand, Barlow said:
"Put a foot upon mine, Gulab, and I'll swing you up."
When they were on the road she said; "I saw them. It is as the runner said, war—is it so, Sahib?"
"The Captain says that he goes to collect revenue, but it may be that he spoke a lie, for it is said that a man of the land of the Five Rivers, which is the Punjaub, has five ways of telling a tale, and but one of them is the truth and comes last."
The girl pondered over this for a little, and then asked; "Does the
Sahib think perhaps it is war against his people?"
That was just what was in Barlow's mind since he had seen the big gun going forth at night; that perhaps the plot that was just a whisper, fainter than the hum of a humming bird's wing, was moving with swift silent velocity.
"Why do you ask that question? Have you heard from lips—perhaps loosened by wine or desire—aught of this?"
When she remained without answer, Barlow tapped his fingers lightly upon her shoulder, saying, "Tell me, girl."
"I have heard nothing of war," she said. "There was a something though that men whispered in the dark."
"What was it?"