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Yasmini wriggled closer, and pretended to be watching her maids over by the window. "That man who came last," said the risaldar-major, "has been told that thou art like a spider, watching from the middle of the web of India." "Then for once they have told the truth!" she chuckled. "In the bazaar he asked to be shown men of all the tribes, that he might study their commercial needs.
The verbal precis of the only witness, given from memory, about a man who galloped away on horseback, threw no light at all on the case; so, because he could think of nothing better to do at the moment, the risaldar-major sent for a tikka- gharri and drove down to the morgue to identify the body.
Grouped in the center of the hall were about two hundred men, all armed with sabers, men of every age, and height and swarthiness, from stout, blue-bearded veterans to youths yet in their teens, dressed in every hue imaginable from the scarlet frock-coat, white breeches and high black boots of a risaldar-major to the jeweled silken gala costume of the dandiest of Rajput's youth.
He paid her no compliments, and she expected none; she made no attempt at all to flatter him or deceive him. But, being Yasmini, it did not lie in her to answer straightly. "I set a trap and a buffalo blundered into it! He will do better than any other!" "Whom have you?" "Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh!" The general whistled softly. "Of the Sikh Light Cavalry?" he asked.
The German muttered something half under his breath that may have been meant for a compliment to Ranjoor Singh, but the risaldar-major missed it, for he had stepped up to the nearest of the Northern gentlemen and confronted him. There was a great show of looking in each other's eyes and muttering under the breath some word and counter-word.
"A trooper of D Squadron that's Ranjoor Singh's squadron was murdered in the bazaar this afternoon. The risaldar-major went to the morgue to identify the body drove through the bazaar, and possibly discovered some clue to the murderer. At all events, he is known to have entered a house in the bazaar, and that house is now in flames." "The sahib knows that much?
"Risaldar-major Ranjoor Singh bahadur!" he said. For a second I was possessed by the notion of running after him, until I recalled that he had known my purpose from the first and that therefore his purpose must have been deliberate. Obviously, I would better pursue the opportunity that in his own way He had given me. "What is your name?" I asked the man on the ground.
"Barracks. Oh, by the way, we're a sure thing for the front." "I knew there was some reason why I kept feelin' cheerful!" said Warrington. "The risaldar-major looks like gettin' left." "Unless," said Kirby, "you can get the police to act to-night or unless martial law's proclaimed at once, and I can think of an excuse to search the house with a hundred men myself. Find somebody to give you a lift.
"Could you find the way," he asked, "from here to wherever it was that Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh gave you that ring?" The babu thrust his head out of the carriage window and gazed into the dark for several minutes. "Conceivablee yes, sahib." "Then tell the driver where to turn!" "I could direct with more discernment from box-seat," said the babu, with a hand on the door.
"Is the risaldar-major sahib thirsty?" wondered Yasmini. He could hear her pouring water out of a brass ewer into a dish, and pouring it back again. The metal rang and the water splashed deliriously, but he was not very thirsty yet; he had been thirstier on parade a hundred times. When her head and shoulders darkened the aperture, he did not trouble this time to look at her.
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