"Go, talker!
Go and do things!"
So, swearing and dissatisfied, Ranjoor Singh went down and climbed
on to the box seat of a two-horse carriage.
"Which way?" he asked; and the German growled an answer through the
shutters.
"Now straight on!" said the German, after fifteen minutes. "Straight
on out of Delhi!"
They were headed south, and driving very slowly, for to have driven
fast would have been to draw attention to themselves. Ranjoor Singh
scarcely troubled to look about him, and Sita Ram fell into a doze,
in spite of his protestations of fear. The German was the only one of
the party who was at pains to keep a lookout, and he was most
exercised to know whether they were being followed; over and over
again he called on Ranjoor Singh to stop until a following carriage
should overtake them and pass on.
So they were a very long time driving to Old Delhi, where the ruins
of old cities stand piled against one another in a tangled mass of
verdure that is hardly penetrable except where the tracks wind in and
out. The shadow of the Kutb Minar was long when they drove past it,
and it was dusk when the German shouted and Ranjoor Singh turned the
horses in between two age-old trees and drew rein at a shattered
temple door.
Some monkeys loped away, chattering, and about a thousand parakeets
flew off, shrilling for another roost.
Pages:
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203