"
"Um-m-m! Tell 'em a trooper of ours saw a light there?"
"Yes."
"What did they say?"
"'Doubtless the lamp that was kicked over!'"
Colonel Kirby clucked to his horse and worked a way out to the edge
of the crowd with the skill of one whose business is to handle men in
quantity. Then he shot like a dart up side streets and made for
barracks by a detour.
"Gad!" said Warrington suddenly.
"Who's told 'em d'you suppose?"
"Dunno, sir. News leaks in Delhi like water from a lump of ice."
In the darkness of the barrack wall there were more than a thousand
men, women and children, many of them Sikhs, who clamored to be told
things, and by the gate was a guard of twenty men drawn up to keep
the crowd at bay. The shrill voices of the women drowned the answers
of the native officer as well as the noise of the approaching wheels,
and the guard had to advance into the road to clear a way for its
colonel.
The native officer saluted and grinned.
"Is it true, sahib?" he shouted, and Kirby raised his whip in the
affirmative. From that instant the guard began to make more noise
than the crowd beyond the wall.
Kirby whipped his horse and took the drive that led to his quarters
at a speed there was no overhauling. He wanted to be alone. But his
senior major had forestalled him and was waiting by his outer door.
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