"You have not been followed?"
"I think not, sahib. Do not talk too loud; they are foxes in cunning. You have a ladder, they say, sahib. Will not your honor descend? I have much to relate."
Iris made no protest when Jenks explained the man's request. She only stipulated that he should not leave the ladder, whilst she would remain within easy earshot. The sailor, of course, carried his revolver. He also picked up a crowbar, a most useful and silent weapon. Then he went quietly downwards. Nearing the ground, he saw the native, who salaamed deeply and was unarmed. The poor fellow seemed to be very anxious to help them.
"What is your name?" demanded the sailor.
"Mir Jan, sahib, formerly naik[6] in the Kumaon Rissala."
"When did you leave the regiment?"
"Two years ago, sahib. I killed—"
"What was the name of your Colonel?"
"Kurnal I-shpence-sahib, a brave man, but of no account on a horse."
Jenks well remembered Colonel Spence—a fat, short-legged warrior, who rolled off his charger if the animal so much as looked sideways. Mir Jan was telling the truth.