"What is impossible?"
"Tibet."
She chose to smile at that. Apparently she enjoyed the astonishment that he made no effort to conceal.
"There is a way and a means for everything! Whither goes the elephant when his time is come? Does man know?" She shrugged. "Oh, it is a strange planet, this!"
She drew something white from beneath her jacket—something that crackled as she unfolded it and spread it upon her knees. The moonlight showed him the faint tracery of a map.
"Bend closer," she directed. "See, here is Myitkyina"—her finger rested on a tiny dot. "Above is the confluence of the Irrawaddi. The Mali-hka flows northeast, the 'Nmai-hka northwest. You will follow a route in the triangular space between the two rivers, in a territory where Government surveyors have never been. At the edge of the Duleng country you cross the 'Nmai-hka and go eastward to a town across the Chinese border, in Yunnan. It is called Tali-fang, and is under the administration of a military governor, the Tchentai. Just beyond Tali-fang is the Yolon-noi Pass into Tibet. And there"—she touched a blank space in Tibet, in the northwest corner of Kham—"is the City of the Falcon. Its name is Shingtse-lunpo."
That conveyed nothing to Trent. But its situation did. In Tibet, between the sources of the Brahmaputra and the Mekong! It was as incredible as if she had informed him he was to go to the moon. Her figure of speech was not amiss—"Beyond the moon." That territory was as nebulous as the regions of the moon, as weirdly unreal. It was the country toward which Mohut, the explorer, had striven, which Prince Henri d'Orleans had skirted.
"From Myitkyina," he heard Sarojini Nanjee saying, "to Tali-fang, you will be guided by a Lisu; there will be porters, of course. At Tali-fang you must call at the Yamen of the Tchentai, who will furnish fresh mules and supplies. There you will also exchange your porters and guide for Tibetan caravaneers. A passport is necessary to enter Shingtse-lunpo, but that will be provided. Once inside, you will be upon your own resources."
"As whom does the Falcon know me?" he inserted.
"I am coming to that. He knows you as Tavernake, the jeweler—a childhood friend of mine. The work he expects you to do is to oversee the cutting and resetting of the jewels—a work that you will never do. He will no doubt see you before I do, so guard your tongue. Trust no one unless he comes in my name and has proof."