He rode out with Mrs. Oliver that afternoon down from his house to the Gate of the City.  Two men of his levies rode at a distance of twenty paces behind them.  But these were his invariable escort.  He took no unusual precautions.  There were no extra police in the streets.  He went out with his guest at his side for an afternoon ride as if nothing whatever had occurred.  Mrs. Oliver played her part well.  She rode with her head erect and her eyes glancing boldly over the crowded streets.  Curious glances were directed at her, but she met them without agitation.  Ralston observed her with a growing admiration.

“Thank you,” he said warmly.  “I know this can hardly be a pleasant experience for you.  But it is good for these people here to know that nothing they can do will make any difference—­no not enough to alter the mere routine of our lives.  Let us go forward.”

They turned to the left at the head of the main thoroughfare, and passed at a walk, now through the open spaces where the booths were erected, now through winding narrow streets between high houses.  Violet Oliver, though she held her head high and her eyes were steady, rode with a fluttering heart.  In front of them, about them, and behind them the crowd of people thronged, tribesmen from the hills, Mohammedans and Hindus of the city; from the upper windows the lawyers and merchants looked down upon them; and Violet held all of them in horror.

The occurrence of last night had inflicted upon her a heavier shock than either Ralston imagined or she herself had been aware until she had ridden into the town.  The dark wild face suddenly springing into view above the lighted match was as vivid and terrible to her still, as a nightmare to a child.  She was afraid that at any moment she might see that face again in the throng of faces.  Her heart sickened with dread at the thought, and even though she should not see him, at every step she looked upon twenty of his like—­kinsmen, perhaps, brothers in blood and race.  She shrank from them in repulsion and she shrank from them in fear.  Every nerve of her body seemed to cry out against the folly of this ride.

What were they two and the two levies behind them against the throng?  Four at the most against thousands at the least.

She touched Ralston timidly on the arm.

“Might we go home now?” she asked in a voice which trembled; and he looked suddenly and anxiously into her face.

“Certainly,” he said, and he wheeled his horse round, keeping close to her as she wheeled hers.

“It is all right,” he said, and his voice took on an unusual friendliness.  “We have not far to go.  It was brave of you to have come, and I am very grateful.  We ask much of the Englishwomen in India, and because they never fail us, we are apt to ask too much.  I asked too much of you.”  Violet responded to the flick at her national pride.  She drew herself up and straightened her back.