The Rajput hesitated. “Sahib, have I anything to gain,” he asked, “by offering the wrong advice?”
“I can't imagine so.”
“I advise, now, that we—thou and I, sahib, and my five turn off here—yonder, where the other trail runs—letting the party proceed to Abu without us.”
“But why, Mahommed Gunga?”
“There is need of haste, sahib. At Abu there will be delay—much talk with Everton-sahib, and who knows?—perhaps cancellation of the plan to send thee on to Howrah.”
“I'd be damned glad, Mahommed Gunga, not to have to go there!”
“Sahib, look! What is this I wear?”
“Which?”
“See here, sahib—this.”
For the first time Cunningham noticed the fine European workmanship on the sword-hilt, and realized that the Rajput's usual plain, workmanlike weapon had been replaced.