“I don’t think so,” returned Dick, meditatively. “Not that I am a very good judge, for things have always been pretty clear for me. I have been under orders a good deal, you know, and then my only business was to obey, and when you are thrown on your own responsibility, you only try to do your duty, and act on the square. You know your father’s motto, Miss Keeling? Two or three of his Khemistan men have told me that he gave it to them when they began to work under him. This was the way it usually went: ‘You are here for the honour of your country and the good of the natives,’ he would say when they joined. ‘Never desert a friend, never disown an agent, never deceive an enemy. You will go on duty to-morrow, and may God bless you.’ I wish I had known him. It is a distinction to have served under such a man.” “Highness,” said a voice at Dick’s elbow, before Georgia could answer, and they both turned to see Chanda Lal, who had mounted the steps noiselessly with his bare feet, standing beside them, “there is another old man in the court, wrapped up in a mantle, and he says he is the Grand Vizier, Fath-ud-Din. He asks to see the _burra sahib_, and he will not be turned away.” “Good gracious!” cried Dick. “We shall have all Kubbet-ul-Haj here before long. It only wants the King and Rustam Khan to make things lively. But if Fath-ud-Din meets Jahan Beg, there’ll be murder done. Miss Keeling, while I go and parley with this old wretch, do you mind warning the Chief to get rid of Jahan Beg? I shouldn’t wonder if we have to let him down through a window into the street behind, for it won’t do for him to pass through the courtyard.” He ran down the steps, and Georgia hurried to Sir Dugald’s private office, where she found him in earnest confabulation with Jahan Beg. The state of affairs was quickly explained, and Stratford hastened the visitor away to the back of the house. Here, when the new-comer was safely closeted with Sir Dugald, Dick joined him, and together they succeeded in letting Jahan Beg down into the lane, where he alighted softly on a convenient rubbish-heap, and whence he made the best of his way home. It was not until the rest of the party were thinking of going to bed that Sir Dugald was able to get rid of his visitor and return to the terrace. He smiled grimly as he glanced at the expectant faces which awaited him. “The worthy Fath-ud-Din has prepared a very pretty little plot,” he said, “which is meant to remove both Jahan Beg and Rustam Khan from his path, and we are expected to help.” “We shall get into trouble,” remarked Lady Haigh, oracularly, “if all the conspirators in Kubbet-ul-Haj make this house a rendezvous when they want to plot against one another.”