'Jung Bahadoor told me something of this, but I believed that he spoke largely for his own purposes,' said the Ranee. 'He has always cultivated the friendship of the English. You assure me that it is true!' 'How could I dream such wonders? It is true, every word of it,' said Tom, 'and I could tell you more.' 'Nay,' said the Ranee with a smile, 'you have told me enough. To know that they are strong will not make me love them more. Tell me of yourself. You are going on at once to Gumilcund?' 'With your Excellency's permission, I will start between night and morning.' 'Stay one more day, and look round you.' 'I thank your Excellency humbly.' 'That is well. Then I shall see you again at this hour to-morrow.' He rose and bowed low, and having called some of the servants who were hanging about the ante-rooms, she committed him to their care; but Tom, acting on Hoosanee's advice, preferred sleeping in camp to sharing the noisy hospitality of the Palace. Had Hoosanee had his will, they would have started that night, but Tom felt bound to visit the Ranee again. Never before had he met a woman of her type. She fascinated his imagination, so that he could scarcely sleep for thinking of her, and it was after a vivid dream in which the Ranee figured as a new Joan of Arc, leading her troops to victory, that he opened his eyes the next morning. Hoosanee was standing over him with a cup of coffee. 'If my lord wishes to see anything of Jhansi, this is the time,' he said. 'All right, Hoosanee. Have Snow-queen saddled,' said Tom. Snow-queen was an Arab mare of the highest lineage, which Tom had brought up with him from Bombay. She was full of spirit, could race like the wind, showed no signs of flagging until she was completely dead-beat, and was as gentle as a well-trained child in the hands of those who used her kindly. No one but her master and the syce, Subdul Khan, who had been with her since she was a foal, ever touched Snow-queen. To him, as to Tom, she was more like a human being than a beast of burden. A few minutes after Hoosanee had given the order, Subdul Khan, who had already groomed and fed the beautiful white mare, was leading her gently up and down in front of their master's tent. A second syce led a horse for Hoosanee. Dressed in the half-Oriental, half-European style, which is the out-of-doors costume of many an Indian gentleman, Tom came out. His face, which had been pale and sad that morning, brightened when he saw his favourite, and he gave a low whistle, to which she responded by arching her neck, and pawing the ground. 'The White Ranee is impatient,' he said smilingly to Subdul Khan, as he gathered up the reins and vaulted on to her back. 'She will go like the wind, your Excellency. The day's rest has done her good,' said the groom, looking, with pride in his dark face, at his young master and the snow-white steed. 'Then let her go,' said Tom.