"Yes!" said Warrington. "And so can I. That is why I had you called from your sleep. I sent for you to learn the truth. What was the message given by the fat babu to one of the guard by the outer gate this evening, and delivered by him or by some other man to D Squadron?" "Sahib, it was not a written message." "Repeat it to me." "Sahib, it was verbal. I can not remember it." "Arjan Singh, you lie! Did I ever lie to you? Did I ever threaten you and not carry out my threats--promise you and not keep my promise? I am a soldier! Are you a cur?" "God forbid, sahib! I--" "Arjan Singh! Repeat that message to me word for word, please, not as a favor, nor as obeying an order, but as a friend of Ranjoor Singh to a friend of Ranjoor Singh!" "The message was to the squadron, not to me, sahib." "Are you not of the squadron?" "Make it an order, sahib!" "Certainly not--nor a favor either!" "Sahib, I--" "Nor will I threaten you! I guarantee you absolute immunity if you refuse to repeat it. My word on it! I am Ranjoor Singh's friend, and I ask of his friend!" "The babu said: 'Says Ranjoor Singh, "Let the squadron be on its best behavior! Let the squadron know that surely before the blood runs he will be there to lead it, wherever it is! Meanwhile, let the squadron be worthy of its salt and of its officers!"'" "Was that all?" asked Warrington. "All, sahib. May my tongue rot if I lie!" "Thank you, Arjan Singh. That's all. You needn't mention our conversation. Good night." "Fooled," chuckled Warrington. "She's fooled us to the limit of our special bent, and I take it that's stiff-neckedness!" He hurried away toward Colonel Kirby's quarters, swinging his lantern and humming to himself. "And this isn't the Arabian Nights!" he told himself. "It's Delhi--Twentieth Century A.D.! Gad! Wouldn't the whole confounded army rock with laughter!" Then he stopped chuckling, to hurry faster, for a giant horn had rooted chunks out of the blackness by the barrack gate, and now what sounded like a racing car was tearing up the drive. The head-lights dazzled him, but he ran and reached the colonel's porch breathless. He was admitted at once, and found the colonel and Brammle together, facing an aide-de-camp. In the colonel's hand was a medium-sized, sealed envelope. "Shall I repeat it, sir?" asked the aide-de-camp. "Yes, if you think it necessary" answered Kirby. "The sealed orders are not to be opened until out at sea. You are expected to parade at dawn the day after to-morrow, and there will be somebody from headquarters to act as guide for the occasion. In fact, you will be guided at each point until it is time to open your orders. No explanations will be given about anything until later on. That's all. Good night, sir--and good luck!"