The question was: how was Ahmed to escape from the house and the city? There was no longer any safety in his disguise, even if the khansaman could procure a beard to replace that of which Minghal had stripped him. It was the khansaman himself who, when he returned, suggested a way. Sepoys' uniforms were easily to be got; he would obtain one at his next visit to the bazar; clad in that and provided with arms, Ahmed must march out with a mutinous regiment and take an opportunity of escaping from them. He would, it was true, run the risk of being shot himself as a rebel; but among risks there was little to choose. The khansaman would acquaint him with a favourable time for making the attempt. Ahmed remained for several days in the doctor's company. They heard from the khansaman of Minghal's fury when he discovered the disappearance of his prisoner. As Ahmed had guessed, he imputed it to the agency of Rahmut Khan, and regarded the locked door merely as an additional proof of the malicious cunning of the old chief. At last the uniform and the arms were provided, and one morning very early, before the household was astir, Ahmed was cautiously let out of the house by the khansaman. A few hours later he joined himself unquestioned to a body of troops made up of many different components, ordered to reinforce the mutineers holding the suburb of Kishenganj. There was some delay as they marched past the Mosque. Some one had told the king that the sepoys, clamorous for pay, were about to attack him in his palace, and orders were sent through the city that not a soldier should move until the report had been investigated. While the soldiers stood at ease near the Mosque, Ahmed noticed Fazl Hak moving leisurely among the onlookers, occasionally addressing a word or two to the sepoys he passed. As he came near, Ahmed accosted him. "Salaam, worthy maulavi, what is the news?" Fazl Hak stopped; he looked surprised, then took Ahmed a little apart. "There is no news, sepoy," he said in a low tone, "later than this command of the king." "Hast thou not heard of the fifteen elephants taken from the English yesterday?" "Nay, I had not heard of that." "Hai! that is strange. Nor that a fakir departed from the city yesterday to travel to Peshawar, and cut the throat of Jan Larrens?" "Sayest thou?" "Nor that a black-bearded banijara selling shawls was lately stripped of his beard and shown to be as smooth of cheek as I myself--a wretched spy of the Feringhis?" "Hai! I know of such a banijara, and I could have said he would prove but a broken reed as a spy." "And dost thou not know that our great Bakht Khan has driven a hundred mines beneath the Ridge, and when the moon is full the Feringhis will all be blown to little pieces?" Fazl Hak threw a keen sidelong look at this informative sepoy. "Though I would not counsel thee to write word of that on thy little scrolls to Hodson Sahib," added Ahmed, lowering his voice to a whisper.