"If you care to run the risk," he said suddenly, "you may have a chair by the fire till the storm breaks, babu."
"Beg pardon?" The babu's eyes widened. "Oah, yess; I see. 'If I care to run risk.' Veree considerate of you, I'm sure. But as we say in Bengal, 'thee favour of kings iss ass a sword of two edges.' Noah, thanks; the servants of thee Bell do not linger by wayside, soa to speak. Besides, I am in great hurree. Mister Amber, good night. Rutton Sahib"—with a flash of his sinister humour—"au revoir; I mean to say, till we meet in thee Hall of thee Bell. Good night."
He nodded insolently to the man whom a little time since he had hailed as "my lord," shrugged his coat collar up round his fat, dirty neck, shivered in anticipation, jerked the door open and plunged ponderously out.
A second later Amber saw the confused mass of his turban glide past the window.
CHAPTER V
THE GOBLIN NIGHT
Amber whistled low. "Impossible!" he said thoughtfully.
Rutton had crossed to and was bending over a small leather trunk that stood in one corner of the room. In the act of opening it, he glanced over his shoulder. "What?" he demanded sharply.
"I was only thinking; there's something I can't see through in that babu's willingness to go."
"He was afraid to stay."