Cunningham nodded acquiescence and followed him, turning to stare again at Miss McClean before he strode away with long, even strides that had a reassuring effect on any one who watched him.

She bridled again, and blushed.

But she experienced the weird sensation of being read right through before Mahommed Gunga contrived adroitly to step into the line of view and so let Cunningham's attention fix itself on something else.

The Risaldar had made up his mind that love was inopportune just then; and he was a man who left no stone unturned--no point unwatched--when he had sensed a danger.

This might be danger and it might not be; so he watched.