"The cat’s out of the bag at last. That huge concentration about Bokhara was not to be launched at Russia after all. I suppose we were too self-assured to twig it--just as in the Mutiny time. Plenty of information, little imagination. But we have it now. There are pretty nearly half a million of the fiercest ruffians in Central Asia marching down on us--almost all mounted, and they’re fellows who live on horseback, and are moving with amazing speed. They’ve cajoled or bought over the best part of the Afghans--silly fools, for if the Mongols beat us they’d swallow Afghanistan for dessert. There are a hundred thousand in and about Kabul." "It’s astonishing that they managed to keep things so quiet. They must have been intriguing and negotiating for months." "Again, just as in the Mutiny. I’ve not heard of chapattis passing round, but they’ve had their secret signs, without doubt. The one good thing about the present circumstances is that the Afghans are not actually on the march yet. They’re probably waiting to see how the cat jumps. Of course we’ve always relied on them more or less as a buffer against Russia, calculating that they’d hold up the invaders at Herat until we’d had time to line the frontier. Anyway, we can’t expect any help from them now, for if they’re not actually hand in glove with the Mongols they’re neutral, for a time. You said we’d mobilized, didn’t you? I’ve been away a fortnight." "Yes. With the most tremendous exertions we’ve got 100,000 men across the frontier, and they’re holding the passes. Only just in time, evidently. It ought to have been an easy job: and so it was--on paper. But it’s years since the paper scheme was drawn up, and they’ve been paring down in the usual British way--economizing, they call it. The result is that arrangements for transport and supplies are all at sixes and sevens. They’ve had to reduce the frontier garrisons to mere skeletons in order to make up the strength of the field army." "The Chief wired me just now that troops are being pushed up from all parts, but the railways are so horribly congested that it’ll be weeks before they’re on the spot. I fancy I made him jump with my news." "You’ve got something fresh then?" "There are twenty thousand Kalmucks marching up the Nogi valley." "The Nogi valley! But I’ve always understood it’s impassable. Isn’t that where poor old Harry Appleton has his mine? ... Beg pardon, I’m sure," he added, turning to Lawrence. "I forgot he’s a relative of yours." "My uncle," said Lawrence.