"Order horses for him and me!" commanded Ranjoor Singh; and Yasmini bowed obedience.
"When will you start?" the German asked.
"Now! In twenty minutes! We will follow the regiment and reach camp soon after it."
"I must speak first with my colleagues," said the German.
"No!" growled the Sikh.
"My secret information is that several regiments are ordered oversea. Some of them will consent to go, my friend. We will do well to wait until as many regiments as possible are on the water, and then strike hard with the aid of such as have refused to go."
The carriage drew up at Yasmini's front door, and a man jumped off the box seat to open the carriage.
"Say the rest inside!" she ordered. "Go into the house! Quickly!"
So the German stepped out first, moving toward the door much too spryly for the type of street merchant he was supposed to be.
"Do you mean that?" whispered Yasmini, as she pushed past Ranjoor Singh. "Do you mean to ride away with him and stage a mutiny? How can you?"