Mirai Khan understood. Later, Gray came to know that the man was very keen witted. Also, he had a polyglot tongue.
"Aye, Excellency." Mirai Khan fell on his knees and pressed his forehead to his rescuer's shoes. "There is a hole in the western wall behind the temple where the caravan men water their oxen and camels."
"Go, then, and quickly."
"I will get me a horse," promised Mirai Khan, "and the Chinese pigs will not see me go."
Gray thought to himself that Mirai Khan might be more of a horse thief than he professed to be.
"The Excellency saved my life," muttered the Kirghiz, glancing around craftily. "It was written that I should die this day, and he kept me from the sight of the angel of death. But thirteen taels is a great deal of wealth. It would be well if I found my gun, and slew the soldier. Then the Excellency would have his thirteen taels again. Where is he to be found?"
"At the inn by the western wall. But never mind the Manchu. Save your own skin."
Gray strode off down the alley, for men were coming after them. In the rear of an unsavory hut, the Kirghiz plucked his sleeve.
"Aye, it shall so be, Excellency," he whispered. "Has the honorable master any tobacco?"
Impatiently Gray sifted some tobacco from his pouch into the hunter's scarred hand. Mirai Khan then asked for matches.