The Pathan's smirk grew to a grin. He liked grandly to have the notion fathered on himself; and his complacency of course was suggestive of the hakim's trustworthiness. But the East is ever cautious.
“Some say thou art a very great liar,” remarked a man with half a nose.
“Nay,” answered King. “Liar I may be, but I am one against many. Which of you would dare stand alone and lie to all the others? Nay, sahibs, I am a political offender, not a soldier!”
They all laughed at that and seizing the moment when they were in a pliant mood the Orakzai Pathan proceeded to bring proposals to a head.
“Are we agreed?” he asked. “Or have we waggled our beards all night long in vain? Take him with us, say I. Then, if pardons are refused us he at least will gain nothing by it. We can plunge our knives in him first, whatever else happens.”
“Aye!”
That was reasonable and they approved in chorus. Possibility of pardon and reinstatement, though only heard of at second hand, had brought unity into being. And unity brought eagerness.
“Let us start to-night!” urged one man, and nobody hung back.
“Aye! Aye! Aye!” they chorused. And eagerness, as always in the “Hills,” brought wilder counsel in its wake.
“Who dare stab Bull-with-a-beard? He has sought blood and has let blood. Let him drink his own.”