The Kótwal sat and mused a while on what had been told him. He believed the Brahmun about Maloosray. "And Pahar Singh would not join them? That is all he knows," said Jehándar Beg to himself. "My lord writes that he is sure of the robber, and brings some of his men with him. What can that be for?" He felt as though he had not been quite trusted; still the Wuzeer was coming that day, and would tell all. He could not perhaps write.
So another spy was admitted, evidently one of the royal eunuchs. He sat down where the Brahmun had been seated, and for a time was silent.
"Well," said Jehándar Beg, "is thy brain heavy with drink, Mahmood, or with secrets? Or is there bad news? Why art thou silent?"
"Good or bad, I know not, my lord," replied the man; "but it is at least curious, and you may understand it. I do not."
"Indeed!—say on, friend," returned the Kótwal, settling himself into an attitude of attention.
"My lord the secretary," said the man calmly, "was out late last night. He went to a temple somewhere, and there was another with him. He then returned to the palace, and the Peer Zadah and Neelkunt Rai were sent for and admitted. They sat till nearly dawn, when a Fakeer came, and was taken up to the Palace of the Seven Stories by the secretary."
Jehándar Beg took his beard in his hand, rubbed and stroked it, and mused for several minutes. "Anything more?" he asked.
"Some money was taken," added the man. "That is all I know, except that a Durbar is ordered after the mid-day prayer."
These tidings, strange as they seemed to be, troubled Jehándar Beg sorely. He had not been told of the Durbar. What could have happened? "Thou must go and find out who was with the secretary," he said.
"If I might speak," said the spy timidly, looking about him—"I think it was—" and he advanced and whispered in the Kótwal's ear—"the King himself."