And then Warrington saw a
face reflected in one of the mirrors and nudged Kirby, and Kirby saw
it too. They both saw that she was watching it. It was a fat face,
and it looked terrified, but the lips did not move and only the eyes
had expression. In a moment a curtain seemed to be drawn in front of
it, and Yasmini took up her tale.
"And then, sahibs, as I have told already, there came a wind that
whistled about war; and it pleased the government to know which, if
any, of the native regiments had been affected by the talk. So a
closer watch was set, then a net was drawn, and Ranjoor Singh ran
into the net."
"An antelope might blunder into a net set for a tiger," said Kirby.
"I am here to cut him out again."
Yasmini laughed.
"With pistols to shoot the cobras and sweat to put out flame? Nay,
what is there to cut but the dark that closes up again? Sahib, thou
shalt _beg_ for Ranjoor Singh, who struck a hillman in my house,
he was so eager to hear treason!"
"Ranjoor Singh's honor and mine are one!" said Colonel Kirby, using
a native phrase that admits of no double meaning, and for a second
Yasmini stared at him in doubt.
She had heard that phrase used often to express native regard for a
native, or for an Englishman, but never before by an Englishman for a
native.
"Then beg for him!" she grinned mischievously.
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