“You mean that he hopes to make me throw up the frontier altogether? What business has he to try and turn me out?” “Nay, sahib, it is not for me to say. But it may be he has no desire that there should always be one near him who might carry tales to your honour’s uncle.” “What tales could I carry? The man’s straight enough. He does himself more harm by one of his own letters that I could do him in a year.” “Even if your honour told all that you know?” “Why, of course. What are you driving at, Mirza? I wish you wouldn’t be so abominably mysterious.” “If Firoz Sahib knows nothing now that his honoured uncle would care to hear, it may be he might learn something.” “There you go again! What is it? Do you know anything?” “Is it for the dust of the earth, the poor servant of Firoz Sahib, to utter words against the great Kīlin Sahib, the lord of the border? The lips of my lord’s slave are sealed.” “That they’re not. You’ve gone too far to draw back now. If you don’t tell me what you mean, I’ll have it out of you one way or another.” “Nay, my lord will not so far forget himself as to utter threats to his servant?” said the Mirza, in a silky tone which nevertheless reminded Ferrers that his dependant could make things very unpleasant for him if he liked. “As I have said, I may not bear testimony against Kīlin Sahib; but who shall blame me if I enable my lord to see with his own eyes the things of which I speak?” “By all means. Splendid idea!” said Ferrers, divided between the desire of conciliating the Mirza and a certain reluctance to spy upon the Commandant. But this quickly gave place to excitement. What could he be going to discover? “When can you do this?” he asked. “And how can you manage about me?” “If my lord will deign to put on once more, as often in the past, the garments of the faithful, and will pledge himself to say nothing of what he sees save what I may give him leave to reveal, I will lead him this very night to a certain place where he shall see things that will surprise him.” “Oh, all right!” said Ferrers, forgetting that he was putting himself once more into the Mirza’s power. “The _daffadar_ must know we are going out in disguise, in case of an alarm in the night, but he had better think we are going to try and track Shir Hussein. You look after the clothes, of course. Do we ride or walk?” “We will ride the first part of the way, sahib, and two ponies shall be in readiness; but the place to which we go is a _pir_’s tomb in the hills this side of the Akrab Pass, and there we must walk. But we shall return to the ponies, and be here again by dawn.”