"How comes the lady to ride such an evil horse?" the captain asked.
"The stallion's name is Djalma, sahib, which means the favour of sacred Kuda, but to the mem-sahib he comes from the maharani's stable, which is a different thing."
"To bring her harm, even as Stoll Sahib came by it?"
But Radha parried this talk of cause leading to effect by speech relating to Djalma. "It might be that the matter of Stoll Sahib's hand was but an accident--I know not; but of evil omens, as twisted in the hair of a horse, we horsemen of repute all know. The grey stallion carries three marks of ill favour. Beneath the saddle he has the shadow maker, and that means gloom for his owner; at the knee is a curl, with the tail of the curl running down to the fetlock--that means the withdrawal of the peg. That is to say, sahib, that his owner's rope pegs will have to be knocked out for lack of horses to tie to them."
"He seems a bad lot, Radha," Swinton remarked as the attendant stopped to pick a thorn from his foot.
"Worst of all," the little man added dolefully, "is the wall eye."
A smile of satisfaction wreathed the puckered lips of Radha. "The sahib knows, and does the sahib remember the proverb?"
"That not one will be left alive in your house if you possess a horse with one white eye?" the captain said.
They now slipped from the hill road to the plain, and the Arab broke into a swinging canter.
The captain's breakfast was waiting, so was Gilfain and also--which caused him to swear as he slipped from the saddle--was Baboo Lall Mohun Dass.
In the genial morning sun the baboo looked more heroic in his spotless muslin and embroidered velvet cap sitting jauntily atop his heavy, black, well-oiled hair.
"Wanting to speak to master, sar, this morning," he said. "After debauch, in the morning wisdom smiles like benign god. I am showing to master last night property of maharajah, and he is terrible old boy for raising hell; I am hear the sahib will make call of honour, and, sar, I am beseeching you will not confide to his highness them peccadillos."
"All right, baboo. But excuse me; I've got to have a tub and breakfast."
When Lord Victor and Captain Swinton had finished their breakfast a huge barouche of archaic structure, drawn by a pair of gaunt Waler horses, arrived to take them to the maharajah. On the box seat were two liveried coachmen, while behind rode the syces.