"But sleep still refused to come to me that night. The call for morning prayer found me wide awake, turning over in my mind the many perplexities of the situation. Had the quarrel in the camp of our adversaries been nothing but a cunning pretence, the fight among the tribesmen before the dawn a mere sham, even the gathering in of the supposed dead and wounded an artful deception for our eyes, all contrived so that this devil of devils, Mustafa Khan, should gain access to the citadel with skilled sappers and mining munitions? And was the youth who had played the part of a goatherd really a son of the man, or a serpent-tongued liar, a chosen master of craft whose seeming guilelessness had helped to delude us? It had been a crude first idea on his part to suggest the admission as refugees of a swarm of armed men, but, when this had failed, there had been glib readiness with the other and more subtle plan that had so nearly succeeded. And as I reflected on these things, I marked the young hypocrite for my own particular prey.
"During the morning hours I was surprised to see the two khans, guest and host, betrayer and betrayed, walking around the gardens in seeming amity. But after a time my grandsire beckoned me to his side.
"'This is a grandson of mine,' he said, presenting me to Mustafa Khan. 'He has reported to me that the sabat is approaching too close to your present quarters, and that any explosion would endanger the members of your household.'
"I saw the traitor pale under the quiet eye of The Tiger of the Pathans.
"'There will be no explosion to-day,' he stammered.
"'You seem to be fully and precisely acquainted with the plans of our enemies. Nay, do not draw that sword by your side, Mustafa Khan. Look behind you, man.'
"With haggard face now, Mustafa turned round. It was to see half a dozen pikes pointed at his ribs. At a signal from their master a guard had noiselessly drawn near.
"'You know what to do, jemadar,' said the old Tiger to the officer in charge. There was a vicious smile now on his face, such as I had never seen there before and never saw again—a savage curling of the upper lip that showed the white fangs of the relentless hunting animal.
"And, prodded by the encircling spikes, Mustafa Khan went to his doom—calmly and proudly erect, be it said, for a Pathan always knows how to die with dignity and resignation to the will of God. Nor must we forget that he was a brave man, for in coming to the citadel he had boldly ventured his life on a desperate chance, and perfidy in the game of war brings shame only when it meets with discomfiture. Peace be with his soul!
"My grandsire and I were now alone.