“How is that?” asked Stratford. “You offered us merely a night’s lodging, and we accepted it.”
“True; but a man of my lord’s wisdom will not need to be reminded that it is only fools who allow the gifts of destiny to slip through their fingers. My lord and his companions have been brought into my hand, and here they will remain so long as our lord Fath-ud-Din is kept in prison at Kubbet-ul-Haj.”
“Thank you. There’s nothing like knowing what one has to expect. How many years do you intend to entertain us here?”
“That depends upon another matter. The liberation of Fath-ud-Din hangs upon the treaty that my lord holds, for if that is destroyed, our lord the King is free to do as he will, and the treaty, on account of the means by which it was gained, he finds disgraceful and irksome to him.”
“Show me the King’s mandate demanding the surrender of the treaty,” said Stratford, quickly.
Abd-ur-Rahim shook his head.
“My lord knows that there are certain services that a man may render to his sovereign for which no orders can be given beforehand, although they may be richly rewarded when performed,” he said. “Of such a kind is this matter of the treaty.”
“Don’t you wish you may get it?” asked Stratford, aware that Dick’s fingers were gripping his revolver.
“My lord must know that we shall get it. We have but to compass the death of my lord and his companions, and the treaty must be found; but we would fain not shed blood. Let my lord tell his servant where the treaty is hidden.”
“I absolutely decline to say,” returned Stratford.