"Well, chief, if you will not go, I have nothing to do but to return and inform him that you refuse to come and see him."
"How can he be there, in the midst of the enemy, unless indeed he is a prisoner?"
"He is not a prisoner; he lies in my tent. You can see him without entering Bamian, for my camp is outside the town. What motive, chief, could I have in deceiving you?"
"I will go," the chief said suddenly. "It shall not be said that I refused to answer such a call, however improbable it might seem."
He threw on a cloak lined with sheep-skins, and telling his men that unless something befell him he would be back by noon, he led the way down the hill. Angus mounted his horse when he reached it and rode beside him. For some distance the Afghan did not speak.
"Do you know the name of this chief?" he asked abruptly when half the distance had been traversed.
"It is Sadut Khan, the fighting chief of the Momunds, and a nephew by marriage of the Ameer."
The Afghan had not expected this reply.
"You must be in his confidence indeed, Persian, or he would not thus have disclosed himself when in the midst of those who would hail his capture as one of the most valuable prizes."