There was naturally only one sentence that could be passed upon him, and he knew it. He was found guilty and condemned to be shot. He implored me to give him another chance, but I was tired of his broken promises, and told him flatly that he had offended once too often. He had been convicted by a duly constituted court martial, and the finding of the court must stand. I told him also that his time was short, and advised him to write any farewell messages he wanted to send, and to make his will as quickly as possible. The mullah was also given leave to write anything that Shah Sawar wished to dictate. As I passed from the tent I gazed hard at Shah Sawar. The sweat was pouring down his face--few men can hear the sentence of immediate death without emotion of some sort--but he did not utter a sound. It must be admitted that he bore himself like a man, as, with a gesture of resignation, he told the mullah he wanted him to start writing at once. Whilst he was writing out his last wishes, I made my way to the Durbar tent to wait until he had finished. On my way I met Idu and told him the result of the court martial. Idu had an uncanny gift of intuition and I am certain realised how much I disliked my obvious but uncongenial duty. He looked at me strangely and then disappeared. Some little time later I was leaving the tent when I caught sight of the Gul-Bibi, Shah Sawar's wife, dressed in her very best attire, running towards me. Directly she reached me, she fell on her knees and, touching my feet with her hands, broke into lamentations. "What is it?" I asked, trying to speak sternly. "What have you to say?" The Gul-Bibi had a great deal to say! She said that Idu had gone to her and told her of the sentence that had been passed on her husband and she had come to plead for his life. She used every argument she could think of to persuade me to reverse the finding of the court, and finally went bail in her own person for the future good behaviour of the handsome rascal, if only he might have another chance. "I swear to you," she said passionately, "that if ever my fool of a husband raises his hand against you again or breaks his word to you, I will shoot him with my own hands. I, the Gul-Bibi, swear it." It occurred to me that after all it might be politic to temper justice with mercy. Shah Sawar undoubtedly had great influence and the concession of his life might be a turning-point in the determination of his tribe to be loyal to the British cause. I said that she had accomplished what no one else could have done and that her eloquence had persuaded me to grant her her husband's life.