"Oh, I had no desire to kill you, Sahib, as long as you did not discover and try to capture me. If you had I would have shot you."
He spoke as coolly about killing me as if it were a most ordinary matter. I was less indifferent, and felt thankful that I had not blundered on him in the dark. I realised fully what a narrow escape I had had.
"Why did you take your rifle with you when you went off?" I asked.
For the first time his indifferent manner vanished. A malevolent gleam shone in his eyes.
"Because my greatest enemy still lived," he said. "The man I most wanted to kill was the subhedar-major. I had gone to his room first that night and tried to enter it. But, luckily for him, the door was bolted. So, as I was determined to shoot someone, I went to the barrack-room and killed Shaikh Bakur. But I took my rifle; for I resolved to escape, hide in the jungle until the pursuit was over, then return at night and kill the subhedar-major."
He announced his murderous intention with the utmost calmness. I thanked God that we had been able to capture him; for if he had returned and shot his native officer, he would then have run amuck and killed until slain himself.
"How did you get away?" I said.
"After you had passed me, Sahib, I went down the zigzag path. I meant to get on to the road to Santrabari, but heard the patrol passing down it below me and knew that you had cut my retreat off that way. So I sat on the hill until daylight and then made my way through the forest to Jainti."
I asked him if he had any accomplices. He denied that he had; and, when I refused to believe him, he said:
"Why should I tell a lie now? I know that my life is forfeit."