'But the message,' said Tom impatiently. Ganesh hesitated a few moments, then he opened his vest and drew out a small roll of paper, which he placed in his master's hand, adjusting the light so that he could read it. 'Is this from Dost Ali Khan?' said Tom. 'Let my master read what is written,' answered the chuprassie. Tom read the message, and re-read it. Then he looked up with blazing eyes. 'Do you know what is in this, Ganesh?' he said. 'Would Ganesh read a letter that was written for the eyes of his master?' answered the man. 'That is an evasion; and I do not ask if you have read. I ask if you know.' 'Where could Ganesh have seen the illustrious Dost Ali Khan?' 'Another evasion. Will you--can you--answer me directly? Do you know, or have you any suspicion of, the contents of this letter?' Thus directly appealed to, Ganesh hesitated. He was a good servant, but he shared the weakness of his countrymen, in that the answering of a question with straightforward directness was so difficult to him as almost to amount to a physical pain. 'If,' he murmured, 'Ganesh has his ideas, why should he speak of them? They may be wrong, and then----' 'Wrong or right, I should like to hear them. Come, Ganesh, if you love me, as I think you do, answer frankly. God knows that, for the dear sake of the woman I love, I would willingly encounter any danger; but if it were useless, if I were to thrust my feet into a cunningly laid trap without helping her, of what good would that be to any of us? Answer me, you who know the man who wrote this letter. Is it a trap?' 'Master,' cried Ganesh, forgetting his caution. 'I beseech you to take the word of your servant. It is no trap. If it had been, does his Excellency think that Ganesh would have brought the message hither? Dost Ali Khan has not forgotten my master's kindness to him in the hour of his need--how he saved his life, and fed him, and gave him shelter, and comfortable words. Of this I am certain. Further, I know not.' 'But if you know so much, you must know more.' Still more deeply Ganesh bowed his head, but he did not speak. 'Do you mean to say more?' asked his master. 'Excellency----' 'The time is passing. I must see Subdul and the English Sahib before the morning. Do you, or do you not?' 'If my master will deign to tell his servant----' 'No, Ganesh, I will tell you nothing. You must be frank with me before I can be frank with you. This, besides, is sudden. I must think and take counsel. You cannot speak, then leave me. Call Subdul, and let Hoossein Buksh tell the Sahib that I am ready to speak with him.' There was no disputing this command. With a lingering look of perplexity and disappointment Ganesh left the room. A few minutes later, while Tom was still puzzling over the strange script, and wondering if any dependence was to be placed upon it, Subdul Khan, dressed in his faquir's disguise, stood before him. He sprang up. 'You have succeeded, then?' he said eagerly.