“Tell me about Yasmini first! Where is she?”
“Nay!”
King tapped the flask in his pocket.
“Nay! My throat is dry, but it shalt parch! I know not! As to where she is, I know not!”
“Remember, and I will give you the whole of it!”
He drew the flask out of his pocket and rode a little way toward the man.
“None can overhear. Tell me now.”
“Nay, sahib! I am silent!”
“Have you passed her on your way?”
The man shook his head--shook it until the whites of his eyes were a streak in the middle of his dark face; and when a Hillman is as vehement as that he is surely lying.