"Does a man cook eggs that are already eaten? This that you say, Ahmed Khan, is a twice-told tale. The oldest of your news went to the English three days ago; the newest, a little ere the gates were shut."
Ahmed flushed, and looked exceedingly abashed. He was chagrined at his failure, and annoyed that Fazl Hak had let him go on even so long dictating his stale news. Something in the maulavi's manner suggested that he was not wholly pleased at Ahmed's presence in Delhi. Perhaps he thought that his friend Rajab Ali might have consulted him before sending a new and untried spy into the city. And if this was indeed his feeling, how well, thought Ahmed, was it justified? Was this man omniscient, that nothing could escape him? Ahmed felt thoroughly disheartened. What could he do? He would only make himself foolish in the eyes of the sahibs if he sent them old news, even as he had already made himself foolish in the eyes of Fazl Hak.
"Go on," said the maulavi. "Let me write some new news."
"Of what use, O wise one? It were but waste of breath."
"Yet go on. Who can tell but that the wind may have carried one little seed to your ear?"
"A man was hanged to-day on a tree before the Kotwali, it being supposed he was concerned in the making of a mine that was discovered by the Kashmir gate."
"And a man in the garb of a fakir," said the maulavi, as if in continuance of the report, "was seized at the Ajmir gate, and it being suspected that he was a spy, he was killed. Go on."
"Bakht Khan with his force from Bareilly has halted at the tomb of Safdar Jang."
"That was yesterday. He is now at Ghaziabad. Go on."
"I will even go to my place, and trouble you no more until I have learnt somewhat that no one else can know. Is it not vain to pour water into a vessel that is already full?"