"I have good reasons for asking, and no impertinence is meant. Be
good enough to tell me. I wish to know what value I may place on
your opinion."

"Sahib, I am a full sergeant of the Rajput Horse retired. I bear
one medal."

"And--"

"I sell charms, sahib."

"What sort of charms?"

"All sorts. But principally charms against the evil eye, and the
red sickness, and death by violence. But, also love-charms now and
then, and now and then a death-charm to a man who has an enemy and
lacks swordsmanship or courage. I trade with each and every man,
sahib, and listen to the talk of each, and hold my tongue!"

"Strange trade for a soldier, isn't it?"

"Would you have me a robber, sahib? Or shall I sweep the streets--
I, who have led a troop before now? Nay, sahib! A soldier can fight,
and can do little else. When the day comes that the Raj has no more
need of him--or thinks that it has no more need of him--he must either
starve or become a prophet. And his own home is no place for a prophet
who would turn his prophesying into silver coin!"

"Ah! Well-now, tell me! What is your opinion, without reference
to what anybody else may think? You have just seen the massacre