"Same old game!" said King to himself. "What knowest thou of the
lashkar that is gathering?"

"I? Oh, a little. An uncle of mine, and three half-brothers, and
a brother are of its number! One came at night to tempt me to join--
but I have eaten the salt. It was I who first warned our karnal sahib.
Now, let me by!"

"Nay, wait!" ordered King. But he lowered his pistol point.

To hold up a despatch rider was about as irregular as any proceeding
could be; but it was within his province to find out how far the
Khyber jezailchis could be trusted and within his power more than
to make up the lost time. So that the irregularity did not trouble
him much.

"Does this other letter tell of the lashkar, too?"

"Am I God, that I should know? But of what else should the karnal
sahib write?"

"What is the object of the rising?" King asked him next; and the
man threw his head back to laugh like a wolf. Laughter, at night
in the Khyber, is an insult. Ismail chattered into his beard; but
King sat still.

"Object? What but to force the Khyber and burst through into India
and loot? What but to plunder, now that English backs are turned
the other way?"