"With a censorship that isn't admitted, but which has been rather obvious for more than a month; with all forces undergoing field training during the worst of the rains--it's fair to suppose your men smell something?" "They've been sweating, certainly." "Do they smell a rat?" "Yes." "Ask questions?" "Yes." "What do you tell them?" "That I don't know, and they must wait until I do." "Any recent efforts been made to tamper with them?" "Not more than I reported. You know, of course, of the translations from Canadian papers, discussing the rejection of Sikh immigrants? Each man received a copy through the mail." "Yes. We caught the crowd who printed that. Couldn't discover, though, how it got into the regiment's mail bags without being postmarked. Let's see--wasn't Ranjoor Singh officer-of-the-day?" "Yes." "Um-m-m! Would it surprise you to know that Ranjoor Singh visits Yasmini?" "Wouldn't interest me." "What follows is in strict confidence, please." "I'm listening." "I want you to hear reason. India, the whole of India, mind, has its ear to the ground. All up and down the length of the land--in every bazaar--in the ranks of every native regiment--it's known that people representing some other European Power are trying to sow discontent with our rule; and it's obvious to any native that we're on the watch for something big that we expect to break any minute. Is that clear?" "Yes." "Our strongest card is the loyalty of the native troops." "Yes." "Everybody knows that. Also, this thing we're looking for is most damnably real--might burst to-day, to-morrow--any time. So, even with the censorship in working order, it wouldn't be wise to arrest a native officer merely on suspicion." "I'd arrest one of mine," said Kirby, "if I had any reason to suspect him for a second." "Wouldn't be wise! You mustn't!" The man in drab silk shook his head. "Now, suppose you were to arrest Ranjoor Singh--" Kirby laughed outright. "Suppose the Chandni Chowk were Regent Street!" he jeered. "Last night," said the man in drab silk, "Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh visited Yasmini, leaving six or more of the men of his squadron waiting for him in the street outside. In Yasmini's room he listened for hours to a lecture on Germany, delivered by a German who has British naturalization papers, whether forged or not is not yet clear. "After the lecture he had a private conversation lasting some minutes with the German who says he is an Englishman, and who, by the way, speaks Hindustani like a native. And, before he started home, his men who waited in the street thrashed an Afridi within an inch of his life for threatening to report Ranjoor Singh's presence at the lecture to the authorities." "Who told you this?" asked Colonel Kirby.