We will tell the
general sahib, and the general sahib will send some one to bury him.
Come!"
"Not yet," said Ranjoor Singh. "Speak. When did you first know that
these Germans had taken this vault to use?"
"More than two years ago," she boasted, "when the old priest, that
was no priest at all, came to me to be doorkeeper."
"And when did you know that they were storing dynamite in here?"
"I did not know."
"Then, blankets?"
"Bah! Two years ago, when a Customs clerk with too much money began
to make love to a maid of mine."
"Then why did you not warn the government at once, and so save all
this trouble?"
"Buffalo! Much fun that would have been! Ranjoor Singh, thy Jat
imagination does thee justice. Come, come and chase that regiment of
thine, and spill those stupid brains in France! Lock the door and
come away!"
Brother, a favor I came to crave,
Oh, more than brother, oh, more than friend!
Spare me a half o' thy soldier grave,
That I sleep with thee at the end!
Spur to spur, and knee to knee,
Brother, I'll ride to death with thee!
CHAPTER XIV
The crew of the Messageries Maritimes steamship _Duc d'Orleans_
will tell of a tall Sikh officer, with many medals on his breast, who
boarded their ship in Bombay with letters to the captain from a
British officer of such high rank as to procure him instant accession
to his request.
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