“It is called Rahmat-Ullah, sahib, from one who was saved from death by a pool of water that he found here.” “Then there is its name still. Rahmat-Ullah, the Compassion of God--what could be more appropriate? But now to think of present needs. Surviving enemy has escaped with the horses, unfortunately. We didn’t venture to fire after him for fear of rousing the neighbourhood, so we must ride double.” As he spoke, he was unstrapping and rearranging the greatcoat which was rolled in front of Miani’s saddle. “Haigh, take your wife.” He unfastened the black’s bridle from the lance, and was in the saddle in a moment. “Miss Ross, give me your hands. Put your foot on mine. Now, jump!” and as Penelope obeyed, she found herself seated before him on the horse, the greatcoat serving as a cushion. “Don’t be afraid of falling. I shall hold you,” he said. “Besides, Miani is too much of a gentleman to try any tricks with a lady on his back. You all right, Lady Haigh? Ismail Bakhsh, you are the lightest weight; pick up the old woman, and fall in behind. Murtiza Khan may lead; he has deserved well for this three days’ work. Kasim-ud-Daulat, bring up the rear, and keep your ears open for any sounds of pursuit. Now, forward!” They were in motion at once, Miani making no objection to his double burden. Penelope smiled to herself, realising the strangeness of her position, and also Major Keeling’s anxiety that she should not realise it. His left arm was round her, the sword which must have dripped with blood only a few minutes ago hung almost within reach of her hand; but he was careful not to say a word that could make her feel that there was anything odd in the situation. “He is determined to behave as if he was a stranger,” she said to herself. “No, not quite. A stranger would have asked me if I was quite comfortable before starting. But why doesn’t he let me ride behind him, so as to leave his arms free? I know! it is from behind that he expects to be attacked. Oh, I hope, I hope, if there is an attack, it will be in front. Then the bullets must reach me first, and he might escape.” As if in answer to her thought, Major Keeling’s deep voice remarked casually at this moment, “If we are attacked in front, Miss Ross, I shall drop you on the ground. It sounds rude, but you will be safer there than in the way of bullets. Keep out of the way of the horses as best you can, and we will pick you up again when we have driven the rascals off.” “Ye-es,” said Penelope faintly, with the feeling very strong upon her that there were some seasons at which women had no business to exist. Again, as if to comfort her, Major Keeling laughed happily. “Never felt so jolly in my life!” he cried. “This is the sort of adventure that’s worth five years of office and drill.”