"He was suspected of disloyalty. He entered that house to make arrangements for the mutiny of a whole regiment of Sikhs, who are not willing to be sent to fight across the sea. He was followed to the house, and so, since he would not be taken, he burned all the houses. Such, a man is he who comes presently. Did the sahib hear the mob roar when the flames burst out at evening? No? A pity! There were many soldiers in the mob, and many thousand discontented people!" She went close to the window, to be between the German and the light, and let him see her silhouetted in an attitude of hope awakening. She gazed at the billowing smoke as if the hope of India were embodied in it. "It was thus in 'fifty-seven," she said darkly. "Men began with burnings!" Brown eyes, behind the German, exchanged glances, for the East is chary of words when it does not understand. The German nodded, for he had studied history and was sure he understood. "Sahib _hai_!" said a sudden woman's voice, and Yasmini started as if taken by surprise. There were those in the room who knew that when taken by surprise she never started; but they were not German. "He is here!" she whispered; and the German showed that he felt a crisis had arrived. He settled down to meet it like a soldier and a man. "Salaam!" purred Yasmini in her silveriest voice, as Ranjoor Singh strode down the middle of the room with the dignity the West may some day learn. "See!" whispered Yasmini. "He trusts nobody. He brings his own guard with him!" By the door at which he had entered stood a trooper of D Squadron, Outram's Own, no longer in uniform, but dressed as a Sikh servant. The man's arms were folded on his breast. The rigidity, straight stature, and attitude appealed to the German as the sight of sea did to the ancient Greeks. "Salaam!" said Ranjoor Singh. The German noticed that his eyes glowed, but the rest of him was all calm dignity. "We have met before," said the German, rising. "You are the Sikh with whom I spoke the other night--the Sikh officer--the squadron leader!" _"Ja!"_ said Ranjoor Singh; and the one word startled the German so that he caught his breath. _"Sie sprechen Deutsch?"_ _"Ja wohl!"_ The German muttered something half under his breath that may have been meant for a compliment to Ranjoor Singh, but the risaldar-major missed it, for he had stepped up to the nearest of the Northern gentlemen and confronted him. There was a great show of looking in each other's eyes and muttering under the breath some word and counter-word. Each made a sign with his right hand, then with his left, that the German could not see, and then Ranjoor Singh stepped side wise to the next man. Man by man, slowly and with care, he looked each man present in the eyes and tested him for the password, while Yasmini watched admiringly.