“Well? What?”
It was the Beluchi interpreter who had carried the lamp for him that evening when he arrested the fakir.
“Run, sahib! It is time to run away!”
“Go on, then! Why don't you run?”
“I am afraid, sahib.”
“Of what?”
“Of the men who slew the soldiers. Sahib! Remember what the fakir said. You will be pegged out on an anthill, sahib, when you have been beaten. Run, while there is yet time!”
“Did you see them kill my men?”
“Nay, sahib!”
“How was that?”