The heat inside the room they entered was oppressive, in spite of a
great open window at which sat a dozen maids, and of the punkahs
swinging overhead, so Kirby undid his cloak and walked revealed, a
soldier in mess dress.

"Look at innocence aware of itself!" whispered Warrington.

"Shut up!" commanded Kirby, striding forward.

A dozen--perhaps more--hillmen, of three or four different tribes,
had sat back against one wall and looked suspicious when they
entered, but at sight of Kirby's military clothes they had looked
alarmed and moved as if a whip had been cracked not far away. The
Northern adventurer does not care to be seen at his amusements, nor
does he love to be looked in on by men in uniform.

But the little maid beckoned them on, still showing her teeth and
tripping in front of them as if a gust of wind were blowing her. Her
motion was that of a dance reduced to a walk for the sake of decorum.

Through another glass-bead curtain at the farther end of the long
room she led them to a second room, all hung about with silks and
furnished with deep-cushioned divans. There were mirrors in this
room, too, so that Kirby laughed aloud to see how incongruous and
completely out of place he and his adjutant locked. His gruff laugh
came so suddenly that the maid nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Will the sahibs be seated?" she asked almost in a whisper, as if
they had half-frightened the life out of her, and then she ran out of