The Sheikh stroked his beard slowly. “It may be so,” he said. “Nevertheless, you may be well assured, sahib, that the bazar talk is true so far as relates to Firoz Sahib. As to Rāss Sahib, they say he is dead, and I am ready to believe it. But when my messenger returns I will send him to you, and you shall ask him any questions you will. But when he returns, then will be the time to keep good watch along the Nalapur border.” Quite agreeing with this opinion, Major Keeling took his leave, and as he rode home, thought over what he had heard. The still unexplained reason which kept the Sheikh from taking any active part in the affairs of Nalapur must be in some way connected with his vow of seclusion, he thought. Perhaps it had been taken for a term of years, which would end in a month. He was more disappointed than surprised by the Sheikh’s evident reluctance to help in taking any steps for Colin’s rescue, but he could not help feeling that there was a change in the man. Had he worn a mask hitherto, and was he now letting it fall; or were his feelings towards the English altering, and his friendship turning to hostility? Major Keeling had hoped that by means of the host of agents who kept the Sheikh in touch with all parts of Central Asia he would have been able to arrange at least that Colin should be ransomed; but he could realise the risk involved in any step that might reveal to the orthodox supporters of tyranny the presence in their midst of members of the heretical brotherhood. However, if the dervish brought no news, it might be possible to engage him to undertake another journey to Gamara for the express purpose of inquiring into Colin’s fate, and this was all that could be hoped for at present.