The Sheikh rode off alone, and the assembly melted away quickly. Ferrers and the Mirza picked their way down the path in silence, found their ponies, and said nothing until they were at a safe distance from the hills. Then Ferrers turned to his companion. “What does it mean?” he said. “He that you have seen is the Sheikh-ul-Jabal, sahib. Whether he is also any one else is for you to say.” “But is it possible that the man can be a British officer all day and a Mohammedan fanatic at night? Who is the Sheikh-ul-Jabal, by the way--not the old joker who lives in the hills to the west?” “The same, sahib.” “But what is he driving at? Who is he going to war with?” “It is not for me to say, sahib; but it may be that he designs to conquer the nations even as far as Gamara.” Ferrers reflected. To Major Keeling, as to many British officers at the time, the name of Gamara was like a red rag to a bull, and it was one of their favourite dreams that one day a British Indian army would sweep the accursed spot from the face of the earth. It was not inherently impossible that, despairing of seeing the dream ever fulfilled by constituted authority, Major Keeling should proceed to make it a reality by methods of his own. But the means--the mummery, trickery, dissimulation that were necessary,--how could he stoop to them, and yet pose as an honourable man? “Have you ever spied there before?” asked Ferrers of the Mirza. “Often, sahib.” “And what have you seen at other times?” “Always the same sort of things, sahib--plannings and pretended miracles. But I can show you more than this in another place, only it may not be yet for a time.” “Let it be as soon as possible.” Ferrers rode on silently. It did not occur to him to inquire what had suggested to the Mirza the idea of spying on Major Keeling, or what result he hoped to gain from it. He scarcely heard Fazl-ul-Hacq’s voice adjuring him not to breathe a syllable about what he had seen until he gave him leave, for he was asking himself a question. Next week he must go into Alibad for Christmas, and meet Major Keeling at every turn. How could he treat him as if he knew nothing of his proceedings? CHAPTER VIII. SEEING AND BELIEVING.