And, according to what Brammle
had told him when they met near the colonel's quarters, it was very
shortly after that that the squadron came out of its gloom.
"What was the first message that the babu brought this evening?" he
asked, still being very careful not to look into the sergeant's eyes.
He spoke as comrade to comrade--servant of the "Salt" to servant of
the "Salt."
"Which babu, sahib?" asked Arjan Singh, unblinking.
Now, in all probability, this man--since he had been asleep--knew
nothing about the message to groom Bagh. To have answered, "The babu
who spoke about the charger," might have been a serious mistake.
"Arjan Singh, look me in the eyes!" he ordered, and the Sikh obeyed.
He was taller than Warrington, and looked down on him.
"Are you a true friend of the risaldar-major?"
"May I die, sahib, if I am not!"
"And I? What of me? Am I his friend or his enemy?"
The sergeant hesitated.
"Can I read men's hearts?" he asked.
"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.
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