Barlow hesitated, a slight hope that might save his own life would be to declare himself as a Sahib, and his mission; but he felt sure that the Chief had been murdered because of this very thing, that somebody, an agent of Nana Sahib, had waited hidden, had killed the Chief and taken the paper. To speak of it would be to start a rumour that would run across India that the British had negotiated with the Pindaris, and if the paper weren't found there--which it wouldn't be--he wouldn't be believed. Better to accept the roll of the dice as they lay, that he had lost, and die as an Afghan rather than as an Englishman, a spy who had killed their Chief. "Speak, Patan," Kassim commanded; "thou dwellest overlong upon some lie." "There was a mission," Barlow answered; "it was from my own people, the people of Sind." "Of Sindhia?" "No; from the land of Sind, Afghanistan. We ride not with the Mahrattas; they are infidels, while we be followers of the true Prophet." "Thou art a fair speaker, Afghan. And was there a sealed message?" "There was, Commander Sahib." "Where is it now?" "I know not. It was left with Amir Khan." There was a hush of three seconds. Then Kassim, whose eye had searched the room, saw the iron box. "This has a bearing upon matters," he declared; "this affair of a written message. Open the box and see if it is within," he commanded a Pindari. "How now, woman," for the Gulab had stepped forward; "what dost thou here--ah! there was talk of a message from the Chief. It might be, it might be, because,"--his leonine face, full whiskered, the face of a wild rider, a warrior, softened as he looked at the slight figure,--"our noble Chief had spoken soft words of thee, and passed the order that thou wert Begum, that whatsoever thou desired was to be." "Commander," Bootea said, and her voice was like her eyes, trembling, vibrant, "let me look upon the face of Amir Khan; then there are things to be said that will avenge his death in the sight of Allah." Kassim hesitated. Then he said; "It matters not--we have the killer." And reverently, with his own hands, he turned the Chief on his back, saying, softly, "In the name of Allah, thou restest better thus." The Gulab, kneeling, pushed back the black beard with her hand, and they thought that she was making oath upon the beard of the slain man. Then she rose to her feet, and said: "There is one without, Hunsa, bring him here, and see that there is no weapon upon him." Kassim passed an order and Hunsa was brought, his evil eyes turning from face to face with the restless query of a caged leopard. "There is no paper, Commander Sahib," the jamadar said, returning from his search of the iron-box. "There was none such," Kassim growled; "it was but a Patan lie; the message is yonder," and he pointed to the smear of blood upon the marble floor. Then he turned to Bootea: "Now, woman, speak what is in thy mind, for this is an affair of action."