"Let us have plain words' said Ranjoor Singh, leading the way to a
corner in which he judged they could not be overheard; there he
turned suddenly, borrowing a trick from Yasmini.

"I am a Sikh--a patriot. What are you offering?"

"The freedom of the earth!" the German answered. "Self--government!
The right to emigrate. Liberty!"

"On what condition? For a bargain has two sides."

"That the Sikhs fail England!"

"When?"

"When the time comes! What is the answer?"

"I will answer when the time comes," answered Ranjoor Singh,
saluting stiffly before turning on his heel.

Then he stalked out of the room, with a slight bow to Yasmini as he
passed.

"Buffalo!" she murmured after him. "Jat buffalo!"

Then the Germans went away, after some heavy compliments that seemed
to amuse Yasmini prodigiously, helping along the man who had drunk
sherbet and who now seemed inclined to weep. They dragged him down
the stairs between them, backward. Yasmini waited at the stair--head