“Oh, yes, of course. Try the case here as well as anywhere. What does this mean?”
Out of his pocket the general produced a letter that smelt strongly of a scent King recognized. He spread it out on a table, and King read. It was Yasmini's letter that she had sent down the Khyber to make India too hot to hold him.
“Your Captain King has been too much trouble. He has
taken money from the Germans. He adopted native dress.
He called himself Kurram Khan. He slew his own brother
at night in the Khyber Pass. These men will say that
he carried the head to Khinjan, and their word is true.
I, Yasmini, saw. He used the head for a passport to
obtain admittance. He proclaims a jihad! He urges
invasion of India! He held up his brother's head before
five thousand men and boasted of the murder. The next
you shall hear of your Captain King of the Khyber Rifles
he will be leading a jihad into India. You would have
better trusted me. Yasmini.”
“Too bad about your brother,” said the general.
“The body is buried. How much is true about the head?”
King told him.
“Where's she?” asked the general.
King did not answer. The general waited.
“I don't know, sir.”
“Ask the Rangar,” Courtenay suggested.