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Updated: June 26, 2025
Two hours later Captain Phillips mounted on to the roof of his house and saw that the guards were no longer at their posts. Within a week the Khan was back in his Palace, the smoke rose once more above the roof-tops of Kohara, and a smiling shikari presented himself before Poulteney Sahib in the grounds of the Residency.
"His Highness will stay in this house," said Phillips, "but his presence must not be spoken of. Will you tell Poulteney Sahib that I would like to speak to him?" The servant bowed his forehead to the palms of his hand and turned away upon his errand. But Poulteney Sahib was already at the door.
The idea that any ill-feeling could remain after so good a fight was one quite beyond the shikari's conception. "Besides," he said, "it was I who threw the gravel at your Excellency's windows." "Why, that's true," said Poulteney, and a window was thrown up behind him. Ralston's head appeared at the window. "You had better take him," the Chief Commissioner said.
He found Harriet deeply interested in a book, and took the time to go into a bookstore and ask the clerk for something "on the same line as the Poulteney Letters." In Nina's old Kodak album, idly opened, he was suddenly held by pictures of Nina's governess, beautiful even in a bathing-suit, with dripping hair; lovely in the gipsy hats and short skirts of camp life.
He was the subaltern in command of the half company of Sikhs which served Captain Phillips for an escort and a guard. "You have heard the news I suppose," said Phillips. "Yes," replied Poulteney. He was a wiry dark youth, with a little black moustache and a brisk manner of speech. "I was out on the hill after chikkor when my shikari saw Shere Ali and his crowd coming down the valley.
"I fixed up one of the cellars for him," Poulteney replied in the same tone, and as he ended there came suddenly a rattle of gravel upon the shutter of the window. It was thrown cautiously, but even so it startled Phillips almost into a cry. "That's it," whispered Poulteney. "There is someone in the orchard. That's the third time the gravel has rattled on the shutter. What shall I do?"
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