It was Madame's voice, and I turned to her. I was relieved to find that she was not looking my way, but was on her feet, gazing back the way we had come. And in a moment, whether she gave an order or the driver halted on his own motion, the carriage came to a stand; in a mountain pass, where rocks lay huddled on either side. "What is it?" I said in wonder. She did not answer, but on the silence of the road and the mountains rose the thin strain of a whistled air. The air was "O Richard, _O mon Roi!_" In that solitude of rock and fell, it piped high and thin, and had a weird startling effect. I thrust out my head on the other side, and saw a man walking after us at his leisure; as if we had passed him, and then stood to wait for him. He was tall and stout, wore boots and a common-looking cloak; but for all that he had not the air of a man of the country. "You are going to Ganges?" Madame cried to him, without preface. "Yes, Madame," he answered, as he came quietly up, and saluted her. "We can take you on," she said. "A thousand thanks," he answered, his eyes twinkling. "You are too good. If the gentleman does not object?" And he looked at me, smiling without disguise. "Oh, no!" Madame said, with a touch of contempt in her voice, "the gentleman will not object." But that gave me, in the middle of my astonishment, the fillip that I needed. The device of the meeting was so transparent, the appearance of this man, in cloak and boots, on the desolate road far from any habitation, was so clearly a part of an arranged plan, that I could not swallow it; I must either fall in with it, be dupe, and play my _rôle_ with my eyes open, or act at once. I awoke from my astonishment. "One moment, Madame," I said. "I do not know who this gentleman is." She had resumed her seat, and the stranger had come up to the window on her side, and was looking in. He had a face of striking power, large-sized and coarse, but not unpleasant; with quick, bright eyes, and mobile lips that smiled easily. The hand he laid on the carriage door was immense. I think my words took Madame by surprise. She flashed round on me. "Nonsense," she cried imperiously. And to him, "Get in, Monsieur." "No," I retorted, half-rising. "Stay, if you please. Stay where you are, until----" Madame turned to me, furious. "This is my carriage," she said. "Absolutely," I answered. "Then what do you mean?" "Only that if this gentleman enters it, I leave it." For an instant we looked at one another. Then she saw that I was determined, and, knowing my position, she lowered her tone. "Why?" she said, breathing quickly. "Why, because he enters it, should you leave it?" "Because, Madame," I answered, "I see no reason for taking in a stranger whom we do not know. This gentleman may be everything that is upright----" "He is no stranger!" she snapped. "I know him. Will that satisfy you?" "If he will give me his name," I said.