Shah Sowar was prepared for this, but, by way of gaining time, he answered: "Your Excellency's cleverness is extraordinary; to lie to your Highness would be the work only of a fool. Perchance my master may be a sahib, but there are many nations of sahibs, and why should this one be English?" "Peace, prattler!" sternly replied the old autocrat; "there is only one nation of real sahibs, and they are English."
Shah Sowar, driven into a corner, stroked his beard for some time under the rebuke, and then said: "I perceive there is no good trying to deceive so great a diviner as you. I will speak the truth. My master is an English officer travelling on business. What then?"
"What then?" slowly replied the White Beard. "Why, I have sworn on the Koran, and before all my tribe, to kill every Englishman I come across. I fear no nation on earth but the English, and lest they swallow me up, I have sworn to swallow them, one by one, whenever I meet them."
"If your Honour has thus sworn there is nothing else to be said," answered Shah Sowar. "But I have one petition to make, and that is to give us till the morning before we die."
"Your petition is granted; but why say 'we'? I shall not kill you, for you are a Mahomedan, and a Persian, and shall join my horsemen," said the White Beard.
"When the Sahib dies, I die also," was the brave reply. And with that Shah Sowar hurried back to tell the bad news to his master. Arrived at their little camp, his worst forebodings were confirmed, for a strong detachment of the White Beard's men guarded it on every side.
All that afternoon the prisoners racked their brains to find a way of escape, and hope seemed to die with the setting sun. Then Shah Sowar arose and said, "I will have one more try to see what can be done"; and gaining permission, he went over again to the chief's camp, and asked for another audience. The old man was at his prayers, and Shah Sowar devoutly and humbly joined in. When they had finished he asked for a private audience, as he had something of importance to say.
"Well, what is it?" said the White Beard when they were alone.
"It is this," gravely replied the Guides' trooper, "and be pleased to listen attentively. When you bade me speak the truth this afternoon, I spoke fearlessly and at once. I acknowledged that my Sahib is an English officer. Hear now also the truth, and on the Koran I am prepared to swear it. This English officer whom you propose to kill is the bearer of an important letter to the Shah of Persia, and I swear to you by Allah and all his prophets that, should harm befall him, for every hair of his head the Shah will kill one of your horsemen. Make calculation, oh venerable one; has not the Sahib more than a thousand hairs on his head? I have spoken. Now do your worst, but blame not me afterwards."
"This is very unfortunate," said the much perturbed chieftain. "Have I not sworn before all my people? How then can I now spare this Englishman? My kismet is indeed bad; I can see no road of escape."