“I am he. I saw thee last at Bithoor, when I escaped with Mayne-sahib and the missy-baba.”[23]
“By Mohammed! I would not have known you, sahib, though now I remember your face. Come with me, and quickly. Each moment here means danger.”
“Ay, for thee. I am not one to be tricked so easily.”
“Huzoor, have I not sought you without arms or escort? I and another have searched the palace these two hours. Leave your horse. I will have him tended. Come, sahib, I pray you. The Begum awaits you, but there are so many who know of your presence that I shall not be able to save you if you fall into their hands.”
These were fair-seeming words with the ring of truth about them. At any rate Malcolm’s whereabouts were no longer a secret, and it would not be war but murder to offer violence to one who came with good intent on his lips if not in his heart.
“Lead on,” said Frank, sternly, “and remember that I shall not hesitate to strike at the first sign of treachery.”
“I shall not betray you, sahib, but you must converse with me as we walk and not draw too many eyes by holding a naked sword.”
This was so manifestly reasonable that Malcolm felt rather ashamed of his doubts. Yet, he thought it best not to appear to relax his precautions.
“I would not pass through the palace with a sword in my hand,” he said with a quiet laugh, “but I have a pistol in my belt, and that will suffice for six men.”