"If men like him are obtaining commands in Delhi they will prove awkward," was his brief comment, and Frank did not realize what his chief was revolving in his mind until, three days later, the Brigadier asked him to don his disguise again, ride to the southward, and endeavor to fall in with a batch of mutineers on the way to Delhi. Then he could enter the city, note the dispositions for the defense, and escape by joining an attacking party during one of the many raids on the ridge. "You will be rendering a national service by your deed," said Nicholson, gazing into Frank's troubled eyes with that magnetic power that bent all men to his will. "I know it is a distasteful business, but you are able to carry it through, and five hours of your observation will be worth five weeks of native reports. Will you do it?" "Yes, sir," said Malcolm, choking back the protest on his lips. He could not trust himself to say more. He refused even to allow his thoughts to dwell on such a repellent subject. A spy! What soldier likes the office? It stifles ambition. It robs war of its glamour. It may call for a display of the utmost bravery--that calm courage of facing an ignoble death alone, unheeded, forgotten, which is the finest test of chivalry, but it can never commend itself to a high-spirited youth. Frank had already won distinction in the field; it was hard to be chosen now for such a doubtful enterprise. His worst hour came when he sought Chumru's aid in the matter of walnut-juice. "What is toward, sahib?" asked the Mohammedan. "Have we not seen enough of India that we must set forth once more?" "This time I go alone," said Frank, sadly. "Perchance I shall not be long absent. You will remain here in charge of my baggage and of certain letters which I shall give you." "Why am I cast aside, sahib?" "Nay. Say not so. 'Tis a matter that I must deal with myself, and not of my own wish, Chumru. I obey the general-sahib's order." "Jan Nikkelsen-sahib Bahadur?" "Yes. I would refuse any other. But haste thee, for time presses." Chumru went off. He returned in half an hour, to find his master sealing a letter addressed to "Miss Winifred Mayne, to be forwarded, if possible, with the Lucknow Relief Force." There were others to relatives in England, and Frank tied them in a small packet. "If I do not come back within a week--" he began. "Nay, sahib, give not instructions to me in the matter. I go with you." "It is impossible." "Huzoor, it is the order of Jan Nikkelsen-sahib Bahadur. He says I will be useful, and he hath promised me another jaghir." The Mohammedan's statement was true enough. He had waylaid Nicholson and obtained permission to accompany his master. Like a faithful dog he was not to be shaken off, and, in his heart of hearts, Malcolm was glad of it.