Terrington's hard stare swept the city as the proposal was repeated, a grim smile darkening his mouth.
"Very considerate of the old gentleman," he said slowly; "but I think we'll stay here."
Chantry exploded with difficulties. The Fort wasn't habitable; he couldn't face the question of supply; the Khan would be insulted; the difficulty of negotiations increased. He turned to Sir Colvin imploringly, but the Commissioner shook his head.
"Delegation of authority," he purred. "Mine's political!"
"But what am I to tell the Khan?" cried Chantry in expostulation. "Am I to say that you're afraid?"
Terrington's stare had included absently the other's face.
"Tell the old fox," he said, "that I'm delighted to have a political officer to make my explanations. Last time we met I had, as he'll remember, to make them myself."
He asked Sir Colvin's permission to fall the men out for dinner, and rode back without a further word about the Fort. He was unused in the matter of orders either to ask or answer questions.
Chantry made a despairing but fruitless appeal to the Commissioner, who replied that, having entrusted Terrington with absolute discretion in the military affairs of the Mission, he could not interfere.
"Good man," he concluded; "dam good man! Can talk through my Pukhtu, and cooks like a chef. You'll get used to him, if you stand in with him. But he'd clear out the devil if he got in his way."