Ahmed wondered what the summons to the general's presence could mean. He had had a part in the brushes with the enemy, which had been of daily occurrence since the corps arrived; but he had done nothing to signalize himself. Hodson gave him a quick look as he came up and saluted.
"Your name?" he said in the Pashtu tongue.
"Ahmed, son of Rahmut Khan of Shagpur, sahib," said the boy.
"A good specimen of the breed," said Hodson to the others. "The general wants you to go into the city," he added, speaking again in Ahmed's own language. There was no officer in India more expert than Hodson in the speech of the natives.
"I am ready, sahib," said Ahmed at once.
"You'll have to pretend to be a mutineer, you know."
"With the hazur's pardon I will not do that. There is no need."
"Then how will you go? The khaki would betray you."
"I would go, sahib, as I went with Sherdil, son of Assad, to Mandan, the village of Minghal Khan."
"Ah! and how was that?"