She
held, a candle-lantern.
"Whom have you?" he demanded.
They seemed to understand each other--these two. He paid her no
compliments, and she expected none; she made no attempt at all to
flatter him or deceive him. But, being Yasmini, it did not lie in her
to answer straightly.
"I set a trap and a buffalo blundered into it! He will do better
than any other!"
"Whom have you?"
"Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh!"
The general whistled softly.
"Of the Sikh Light Cavalry?" he asked.
"One of Kirby sahib's officers, and a trooper into the bargain!"
The general whistled again.
"There were two troopers whom I meant to catch," she said hurriedly,
for it was evident that the general did not at all approve of the
turn affairs had taken. "I had a trap for them at the House-of-the-
Eight-Half-brothers, and some hillmen in there ready to rush out and
seize them as they passed. But a fool Afridi murdered one, and I only
got there in the nick of time to save the other's life. I meant that
Ranjoor Singh, who is a buffalo, should be troubled about his
troopers and suspected on his own account, for he and I have a
private quarrel. I did not mean to catch him, or make use of him. But
he walked into the trap. What shall be done with him? Let the sahib
say the word and----"
Her gesture was inimitable.
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