Colonel Baird rose from his seat.

"As to the affair touching Mrs. Irwin, I demand that a thorough
investigation shall be immediately set on foot, and require that it
shall be conducted with unsparing rigour, without any underhand tricks
and quibbles. The insult that has been offered by some of your subjects
to an officer of His Majesty and a British lady is so heinous that not
only the criminals themselves, but also the instigators of the crime,
must be delivered up to suffer their well-merited punishment. I allow
you twenty-four hours. If I do not receive a satisfactory report from
you before the expiry of this time, I shall myself conduct the inquiry.
You may rest assured that the information required will then be obtained
within the shortest space of time."

He made a military bow and descended the steps of the terrace, this
time taking the shortest way. The cavalry dashed off amid a jingling of
swords and accoutrements. The Maharajah followed their departure with
lowering, flashing eyes. He then ordered his servant to fetch his body
physician, Mohammed Bhawon. And when, a few minutes later, the lean,
shrivelled little man, with his wrinkled brown face and penetrating
black eyes, dressed entirely in white muslin, was ushered into his
presence, he beckoned to him graciously, inviting him to be seated by
him on the gold-embroidered cushion.

A second imperious wave of the hand dismissed the attendant. Placing his
arm confidentially round the neck of the physician, the Maharajah talked
long and intimately to him in carefully hushed tones--but in a friendly
and coaxing manner, as one talks to someone from whom one demands
something out of the way, his eyes flashing the while with passionate
rage and deadly hate.