European who gave us the newspaper clippings about Sikhs not allowed
to land in Canada. See--he is disguised like a fool. Are the police
asleep," said he, "that such thieves dare sun themselves?"

It was true enough, sahib. The man in disguise was German, and we
remembered again that Ranjoor Singh knew German. From that moment we
rode like new men--I, too, although I because I trusted Ranjoor
Singh now more than ever; they, because they trusted no longer at
all, and he can shoulder what seem certainties whom doubt unmans. No
word, but a thought that a man could feel passed all down the line,
that whatever our officer might descend to being, the rank and file
would prove themselves faithful to the salt. Thenceforward there was
nothing in our bearing to cause our officers anxiety.

You might wonder, sahib, why none broke ranks to expose both men on
the spot. I did not because I trusted Ranjoor Singh. I reasoned he
would never have dared be seen by us if he truly were a traitor. It
seemed to me I knew how his heart must burn to be riding with us.
They did not because they would not willingly have borne the shame.
I tell no secret when I say there has been treason in the Punjab;
the whole world knows that. Yet few understand that the cloak under
which it all made headway was the pride of us true ones, who would
not own to treason in our midst. Pride and the shadow of shame are
one, sahib, but who believes it until the shame bears fruit?

Before the last squadron had ridden by, Captain Warrington, our
adjutant, also caught sight of Ranjoor Singh. He spurred after
Colonel Kirby, and Colonel Kirby came galloping back; but before he
could reach Delhi Gate Ranjoor Singh had disappeared and D Squadron
was glad to the last man.