Talbot Mundy

“ Dost Mohammed, with the cloth about his face drawn even higher yet, rode on.
“Oh, Gopi Lall?” It was not a soft voice.
“Quietly!” growled the Rajput.
He dismounted by a low fence, and stood waiting on the near side of his horse, fumbling with the stirrup.
“There are none here who listen. Thou mayest trust me! The troops—may Allah whelm them—are miles away. Oh, Gopi Lall, thou greatest fool of fools! You trust that woman, who is naught but a tigress and an enemy, while I, who truly love thee, wait alone. Come—eat, beloved.” ”

“ No Gopi Lall, nor any other expert, could have performed that feat better. The man’s complaints came to a sudden end. He turned and settled down to run in front of the horse.
Under the cloth that hid his mouth, Dost Mohammed chuckled to himself; but he rode carefully, with his saber pointing downward to the peasant’s back and with his ears and eyes on the alert. Three times they passed other men walking homeward, and because he did not challenge them, they made profound obeisance instead of running. One man even lay face downward on the path and beat the earth with flattened hands. ”

“ No more women came to him surreptitiously, and the few shadowy forms he did see vanished the moment that he challenged them. He chased one man for nearly a quarter of a mile, only to lose him in the darkness—a piece of clumsiness for which he cursed himself soundly. ”