"Fine old fellow!" said one of the officers quietly to his neighbour.
"And you," said Lawrence, turning to Ahmed—"you are the son of this man. Have I not seen you before?"
"It is true, sahib; I came here a year ago to beg for my father's release, and you refused."
"And then you joined the Guides; why did you do that?"
"You said, sahib, that my petition must be refused. I had no claim on the British raj. In my mind I said I will do something to win such a claim. And Sherdil, son of Assad, being my friend, I thought nothing better could befall me than to become like him one of Lumsden Sahib's Guides."
"Ah! You wanted to do something to establish a claim on us. Captain Daly, what is this man's regimental record?"
Ahmed drew a long breath. He felt the eyes of Jan Larrens and the officers fixed on him. What would be the end of this?
Captain Daly began to read from a book—his name, the date when he entered the corps, trifling details of his early service which he had forgotten. Then came a more important matter.
"'First gave information of a fakir tampering with the Mohammedan members of the corps.'"
"That was your duty, was it not?" said Lawrence.