Nehal Singh lifted his hand peremptorily.
"In half an hour," he repeated.
The man salaamed and was gone. Nehal Singh stood there like a pillar of stone. It was over. In half an hour! And yet, at the bottom of his heart, he knew that he had delayed—purposely, but to no end but his own increased suffering. With a sigh of impatience he turned, and in the same instant became once more aware that he was not alone.
For a moment he perceived nothing save the shadows and the unsteady flickering of the yellow torchlight. Then his vision cleared and he saw and understood, and an exclamation burst from his horrified lips. It was a woman who stood out against the darkness, her body clothed in rags, the hair, grey and thin, hanging unkempt about her shoulders, the face turned to his that of some being risen from a tomb. There seemed to be no flesh upon the high cheek-bones nor upon the hands that were stretched toward him; only the eyes were alive with an unquenchable fire which burned upon him with a power that was unearthly. She staggered a few steps and then sank slowly to his feet, her hands still outstretched. He knelt down and supported the sinking head upon his shoulder.
"Who art thou?" he whispered in Hindustani. "Where hast thou come from? Tell me thy history."
A look of intense pain passed over her features. Slowly and with a great effort her lips parted.
"I am English—let me speak in English. I have only a few minutes—I am dying."
He looked about him, seeking something with which to moisten her dry lips, but she clung to him with an incredible strength.
"No, no, I must speak with you. Up to now I have lived in an awful nightmare—amidst ghastly phantoms who pursued and tortured me. But when I heard your voice—when I heard you give that order, I awoke. The dreams vanished, I heard and understood—and remembered!" She drew herself upright and, for a moment spoke with a penetrating clearness. "Not in half an hour—never! Withdraw that order! If you go against them you are accursed. Lay down your arms! You must—you know you must! You dare not—" She clung to his arm and her eyes seemed to burn their way into his very soul. "I tell you—to turn traitor is to inherit an endless hell—"
"A traitor!" he echoed. Something clutched at his heart, a sort of numb suspense which became electrified as he saw a new expression flash into her face.