“I wish I knew, sir. Whilst watching them in court yesterday the idea struck me that Pir Baksh, the mutineer, had somehow got a hold over him.”
“Ah!”
“Yes, sir. He was watching Tynan as a cat watches a mouse, and it struck me that he had made some sort of a bargain with Tynan to save him from death at the hands of the rebels if Tynan would whitewash his character. And it struck me that Tynan was sorry he’d ever been trapped into such a bargain.”
Sir John’s elbow was on the table and his head rested on the palm of his hand. Ted felt that he was reading his inmost thoughts.
“And perhaps,” he remarked at length, “perhaps Pir Baksh considered that such whitewashing would be of little avail if it could be shown that Tynan had been guilty of cowardice, and so the lad has to pose as a hero? ... Um! It’s just possible.”
“I never thought of that, sir,” said Ted with obvious admiration.
“I do not doubt your honour, Ensign Russell, and I mean to employ you upon an errand needing strength of character. Take this sealed letter to the officer in command at Amritsar. It is in cipher, and the key is found by reading every sixth word beginning at the end. The road, though safe enough for large bodies, is perilous for a small number; but Colonel Bratherton can only send two troopers with you. Go to him at once for horse and escort.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And understand, Ensign Russell, that should you be captured and have no time to destroy the letter, you must on no account disclose the key—on no account!”
“I will not, sir.”