Gulab would hold Amir Khan in her hand, and some night as he slept in her tent I would crawl neath the canvas and accomplish that which is desired."

"By Jove!" Nana Sahib exclaimed, "this jungle man has got the right idea. But if Ajeet goes on that trip he'll never come back—Hunsa will see to that."

Then the son of the Peshwa took a quick turn to the door and gazed out as if he had his Arab in mind—something wrong; but a sweet bit of deviltry had suddenly occurred to him. He had noticed the young Englishman's interest in Bootea; had known that the girl's eyes had shown admiration for the handsome sahib. A woman—by Jove! yes. If he could bring the two of them together; have the Gulab get Barlow sensually interested she might act as a spy, get Barlow to talk. No instrument like a woman for that purpose. Nana Sahib turned back to where the Dewan had been questioning Hunsa.

"That description of the Gulab as a nautch girl tickles my fancy, Dewani," he said. "Between ourselves I think the Resident's jackal, the impressionable young Captain, was rather taken with her. I'm giving a nautch this week, and the presence of Miss Gulab is desired—commanded."

"But Ajeet—"

Nana Sahib smiled sardonically. "You and Hunsa are planning to send her on a more difficult mission, so I have no doubt that this can be accomplished. The Ajeet should esteem it an honour."

The Dewan, also speaking in English, said, "I doubt if Ajeet would consent to the girl's going to the Pindari camp."

Nana Sahib swung on his heel to face Baptiste. "Sirdar, when you give an order to a soldier and he refuses to obey, what do you do?"

"Pouf, mon Prince," and Jean Baptiste snapped a thumb and finger expressively.

"See, Dewani?" Nana Sahib queried; "I like Hunsa's idea; and you've heard what the Commandant says."

The Dewan turned to the Bagree, "Will Ajeet consent to the Gulab acting thus?"

Hunsa's answer was illuminating: "The Chief will agree to it if he can't help himself."

There was a lull, each one turning this momentous thing over in his mind.

It was the jamadar who broke the silence; somewhat at a tangent he said: "As to a decoity, Your Honour said that we being of that profession should undertake one."

The Dewan roared; the burden of his expostulation was the word liar.

But Nana Sahib laughed tolerantly. "Don't mind me, Dewani; fancy all the petty rajas and officials stand in with these decoits for a share of the loot—I don't blame you, old chap."

Hunsa, taking the accusation of being a liar as a pure matter of course, ignored it, and now was drooling along, wedded to the one big idea that was in his mind:

"If a decoity were made perhaps it might even happen that one was killed—"

"Lovely! the 'One' will be, and his name is Ajeet," Nana Sahib cried gleefully.

But Hunsa plodded steadily on. "In that case Ajeet as Chief would be in the hands of the Dewan; then it could be mentioned to him that the Gulab was desired for this mission."

"That might be," the Dewan said quietly. "I will demand that Ajeet takes the Gulab to help secure Amir Khan and if he refuses I will give them no rations so that he will go on the decoity."

"No, Dewan Sahib," Hunsa objected; "say nothing of the Gulab, because Ajeet will refuse, and then he will not go on a decoity, fearing a trap. If you will refuse the rations now, I will say that you have promised that we will not be taken up if we make a decoity; then Ajeet will agree, because it is our profession."

"I must go," Nana Sahib declared; "this Hunsa seems to have brains as well as ferocity." He continued in English: "If you do go through with this, Dewan, tell Hunsa if anything happens when they make the decoity—and if I'm any reader of what is in a man's heart, I think something will happen the Ajeet—tell Hunsa to bring the Gulab to me. I like his idea, and we can't afford to let the girl get away. Don't forget to arrange for the Gulab at my nautch."

When Nana Sahib had gone Baptiste diplomatically withdrew, saying in English to the Minister: "Dewan Sahib, possibly this simple child of the jungle would feel embarrassment in opening his heart fully before a sahib, so you will excuse me."

This elimination of individuals gave the Dewan a fine opportunity; promises made without witnesses were sure to be of a richer texture; also surely the word of a Dewan was of higher value than the word of a decoit if, at a future time, their evidences clashed.

Then Hunsa was entrusted with a private matter that filled his ugly soul with delight. He assured Sewlal Sookdee, if he were promised, as he had been, full protection, would join in the enmeshing of Ajeet Singh.

Sewlal pledged his word to the jamadar that no matter if an outcry were raised over a decoity they would be protected—the matter would be hushed up.

Hunsa knew that this was no new thing; he had been engaged in many a decoity where men of authority had a share of the loot, and had effectually side-tracked investigation. In fact decoits always lived in the protection of some petty raja; they were an adjunct to the state, a source of revenue.

The Dewan had intimated that Hunsa and his men were to wait until a messenger brought them word where and when to make the decoity. Also if he betrayed them, failed to keep his compact with them, it would cause him the loss of his ugly head.

The jamadar quite believed this; it would be an easy matter, surrounded as they were by Mahratta troops.

So then for the next few days Hunsa and Sookdee cautiously developed a spirit of desire for action amongst the decoits, and a feeling of resentment against Ajeet who was opposed to engaging in a punishable crime so far from their refuge.

The Dewan sent for Ajeet and explained to him, as if it were a very great honour, that Nana Sahib, having heard of Bootea's wonderful grace, had asked her to appear at a nautch he was giving to the Sahibs and Hindu princes at his palace. No doubt Bootea would receive a handsome present for this, also it would incline the heart of the Prince to the Bagrees.

Ajeet was suspicious, but to refuse permission he knew would anger the Dewan; and he was in the Minister's hands. His position was none too secure; there was treachery in his own camp. He asked for a day to consult Bootea over the matter; in reality he wanted to consider it more fully before giving an answer.

Of course Hunsa knew about it, and he told Sookdee; and when the matter came up in camp they professed indignation at Ajeet's stupidity in not appreciating the honour; dancers were only too glad to appear before such people as the Prince and the Resident at a palace dance, they explained.

Of course the matter of Bootea's mission to the Pindari Chief had not been conveyed to Ajeet as yet; and Hunsa felt that this affair of the nautch was a propitious thing—an inserting of the thin edge of the wedge.

Somewhat grudgingly Ajeet consented, for Bootea, strangely enough, was quite eager over it. As Nana Sahib had fancied the girl had taken an unexplainable liking for Captain Barlow. Of course that, the call, is rarely explainable on reasonable grounds—it is a matter of a higher dispensation; just two pairs of eyes settle the whole business; one look and the thing is done.

The Sahib would see her in a new light—in an appealing light. In her thoughts there was nothing of a serious intent; just that to look upon