The Kótwal looked from one to the other, but he could find out no sign of intelligence. He was fairly puzzled.
"Then why that respectable Duffadar's account of what you said to him in the guard-house?" cried Jehándar Beg, jerking himself suddenly round so as to confront the Lalla, while he seconded the movement by an emphatic blow on the floor. "What about Pahar Singh?"
As he did so, his sleeve caught one of the letters projecting from his pocket, which flew into the centre of the group. Fazil picked it up, and returned it with a polite bow, but not before he had distinctly seen the seal of the Rajah Sivaji Bhóslay upon it, and the memorandum in the corner, which Jehándar Beg had written for the Wuzeer, and marked private. Jehándar Beg's confusion on receiving the letter could not be concealed, and Fazil felt that, having seen what was not intended for him, he was in greater danger than before.
"What about Pahar Singh?" echoed the Lalla, who had observed the confused expression of Jehándar Beg's countenance, and seen also what he was quite familiar with, the rebel Rajah's seal. "My lord, your servant heard a great deal of him, as he came here through the country. Everybody, from Ahmednugger to Sholapoor, spoke of Pahar Singh, and warned me of Pahar Singh, but the Gosais did not appear to fear him, and said he never touched companies of travelling beggars. I remember now," continued the Lalla, dreamily, "I think some one asked me whether Pahar Singh had robbed me. Perhaps I said yes, I don't know; I might have said anything, good sirs, for I was like one in a hideous dream; and this robber everybody appeared to know:—in the bazars, in temples, mutts, serais—Pahar Singh, Pahar Singh—nothing but Pahar Singh all the way. I heard enough of him."
"Thou liest, Lalla. I have warned thee once, and again warn thee—beware of the torture!" cried Jehándar Beg savagely, and from between his closed teeth; "a word and——"
"Jehándar Beg," said Afzool Khan, interrupting, "you and I are old friends, and I am your guest, so also is this man. Good or evil of him I know not, neither do I care: but torture shall not be used; and so far as I know or have seen, he says nothing but the truth. We are helpless enough here, my son and I, but we will not allow him to be touched with any of your vile instruments. Question him otherwise as you please, it is your duty."
The tone of the old Khan's voice, habitually stern, seemed more so than usual to Jehándar Beg. Should he resent it and call in his men? It was the thought of a moment. He would have done this, but that he knew the Wuzeer's son sat without; he, at least, was faithful to Fazil, and might not object to prove his devotion to the old Khan, in the hope of its doing service in his suit for Zyna.
"Khan Sahib——" returned Jehándar Beg, putting up his joined hands.
He could not finish the sentence. Fazil, on pretence of arranging his shawl about his shoulders, threw it with a sudden gesture over the Kótwal's head, and closed it behind, throwing Jehándar Beg on his face, while, at the same instant, a dagger flashed from the old Khan's waist-band, and was held by him close to the Kótwal's heart, and so that the point actually pricked the skin.
"Take out those letters, Lalla, from his pocket. In the name of the Prophet—if one sound escape him, father—strike deep and hard. Here is another traitor as bad as him we know of. There, hold his legs, Lalla. Wah, wah! thou art a noble fellow; fear not, friend—we are not like the Jogi. There, that will do; and well was it done," continued Fazil, as the Lalla rapidly passed an end of his own scarf round the Kótwal's arms, and tied it in a knot behind his back; "he is safe now. Where is his ring? give it to me, quick."