"None the less," said King, "I am an officer of the Khyber Rifles,
newly appointed. I asked you, have you a letter?"

"Aye!"

"Let me see it."

"Nay!"

"I order you!"

"Nay! I am a true man! I will eat the letter rather!"

"Tell me who wrote it, then."

But the fellow shook his head, still eying the pistol as if it were
a snake about to strike.

"I have eaten the salt!" he said. "May dogs eat me if I break faith!
Who art thou, to ask me to break faith? An arrficer? That must
be a lie! The letter is from him who wrote it, to whom I bear it--
and that is my answer if I die this minute!"

King let his reins fall and raised his left wrist until the moonlight
glinted on the gold of his bracelet under the jezailchi's very eyes.

"May God be with thee!" said the man at once.

"From whom is your letter, and to whom?" asked King, wondering what