The Rangar laughed mirthlessly, shifting the light a little as King stepped aside to get a better view of him. He held the torch more cunningly than a Spanish lady holds a fan. “All Englishmen are fools--most of them stiff-necked fools,” he asserted. “Bah! Do you think I do not know? Do you think anything is hidden from her? I know--and she knows--that you think you have a surprise in store for her! You think you will go to her, and she will say, 'King sahib, why did you throw that head into the river, and put me in danger from my men?' And you will say, will you not, 'Princess, that was my brother's head!'? Was that not what you intended? Is it not true? Does she not know it? She knows more than you know, King sahib! Because you showed me certain little courtesies, I have come to warn you to run away!” “Do you suppose she knows you are here?” King asked, and the Rangar laughed. “If she knows so much, and is able to read my mind from a distance, where does she suppose you are?” King insisted. The Rangar laughed again, leaning his chin on both fists and switching out the light. “Perhaps she sent me to warn you!” “Well,” said King, “my brother commanded at Ali Masjid Fort. There are things I must ask her. How did she know that head was my brother's? What part had she in taking it from his shoulders? What did she mean by that song of hers?” The Rangar chuckled softly. “There are no fools in the world like Englishmen! Listen! You are being offered life and liberty! Here is the key to both!” He made the gold bracelet ring on the rock by way of explanation. “Take the key and go!” “No!” said King. “Very well, sahib! Hear the other side of it! Beyond those two red lights there is a curtain. This side of that curtain you are Athelstan King of the Khyber Rifles, or Kurram Khan, or whatever you care to call yourself. Beyond it, you are what she calls you! Choose!” King did not answer, so he continued after a pause. “You shall pass behind that curtain, if you insist. Beyond it you shall know what she knows about Ali Masjid and your brother's head! You shall know all that she knows! There shall be no secrets between you and her! She shall translate the meaning of her song to you! But you shall never come out again King of the Khyber Rifles, or Kurram Khan! If you ever come out again, it shall be as you never dreamed, bearing arms you never saw yet, and you shall cut with your own hand the ties that bind you to England! Choose!” “I chose long ago,” said King. “Are the gentle English never serious?” the Rangar asked. “Will you not understand that if you pass that curtain you shall know all things that Yasmini knows, but that you shall cease to be yourself? Cease--to--be--yourself! Is my meaning clear?” “Not in the least,” said King, “but I hope mine is!” “You will go forward?” “Yes,” said King.