It was surely by the irony of fate that Tynan, being in command of the draft, was also responsible for the safe custody of Pir Baksh, whose final disappearance he longed and prayed for. The Moslem had tried hard to find some excuse for slipping away, but Captain Hornby had kept him under arrest, and so had Colonel Bratherton, both having their own opinion of the fellow’s loyalty. Pir Baksh was no more anxious to be off than was Tynan to rid himself of his “old man of the sea”.
In fact the subadar of the 193rd was having a less anxious time than his accomplice, for he still hoped, by force of lying, to pull through the enquiry. He reflected that in all probability he had not been recognized by anyone except Russell, who was at Delhi, having been more concerned with the attacks on the fort than with those on the house, and neither he nor Tynan were aware that Ambar Singh and Dwarika Rai had been saved. Of course the budmashes of Aurungpore would know the part he had played, but they would say nothing for fear of incriminating themselves.
Major Munro first read through Colonel Bratherton’s covering letter and looked hard at Tynan, who was sitting in profound contemplation of his boots, and boorishly repelling the friendly advances made by Ethel. Munro then read Hornby’s report of the rescue, and finally the remarkable papers signed by Tynan and Pir Baksh. Colonel Woodburn, watching him narrowly, saw that the major was striving hard to overcome some strong emotion. The contents mastered, he handed the documents to his former colonel without a word.
“I don’t believe a word of it,” said the latter, throwing the papers on the table.
Tynan flushed.
“My word should be as good as Russell’s,” he muttered; “but he was always in favour, and you were always down on me.”
“It has been your fault, Tynan,” said the major mildly, “if we have had a higher opinion of Russell than of you. Russell said nothing about this affair, and gave you as much credit as himself, until Ambar Singh told us the whole story.”
This was another blow for Tynan, for he had not heard that Ambar Singh was to be reckoned with. He was becoming more and more entangled in the meshes.
“Ambar Singh?” said he after a moment’s hesitation. “I expect he did it to curry favour by praising Russell.”
It was now Ethel’s turn to flush. She was on the point of expressing a very decided opinion, when a look from her father checked the words. It was no business of hers at present.