Madhav spoke jestingly, as the connection between them authorized.
"I wish you were an English Memshahib, sister-in-law," said he with a smile, "that I might offer you a seat. But why not sit down on—on—"
Matangini relieved him from his embarrassment by saying almost in a whisper, "Have you heard what I have to say?"
"Yes," said Madhav seriously, "is it true?"
"It is true," she said in the same half audible tone.
"To-night you say?"
"To-night, even now they will make their attack as soon as the moon sinks and the moon will sink in half a danda."
"Is it? Then I am lost. But how do you know all this sister-in-law?"
"That," replied Matangini in a more distinct voice, slightly lifting the cloth which covered her forehead, "That you must not ask me."
"You perplex me," rejoined he, "I scarcely know what to think." Matangini now completely uncovered her face and looking steadily into his, spoke in a yet bolder tone. "Do you not know me, Madhav? Can I deceive you? And do you think I would come to your house, at this hour, and unattended—"
"Sure—I was wrong," he answered, "wait here with your sister while I go and rouse my men."
Matangini arrested him with a look as he was rising and asked him to give her one word more.
