with money given him by Hodson a
number of shawls. He presented to Mr. Le Bas a letter from Hodson
explaining his mission, and had an interview with Miss Craddock in that
gentleman's house.
She told him no more than he already knew, and when he asked which of
her father's servants was most likely to have befriended him she was
puzzled to answer.
"We thought them all faithful," she said; "but whom can we trust in
these times? They were all good servants; we thought a world of Kaluja
Dass, our khansaman; and Sakun, one of our chaprasis, was always ready
to run errands for me, even when his work for my father was done."
The girl was delighted that her suggestion to General Barnard had borne
fruit, and promised Ahmed much bakshish if he could send her news of her
father. And then, having disguised himself by means of a black beard and
moustache, Ahmed set off in a day or two on his adventurous mission.
He rode out on a camel, reluctantly leaving his horse, Ruksh, behind.
The shawls were strapped in packs before him, and he carried no visible
arms except an Afghan knife; but he had a pistol in his outer garment,
and a talwar was concealed between the packs on his camel's back. Until
he came within twelve miles of Delhi he kept to the great trunk road, on
which troops and armed convoys passed so frequently that it was fairly
safe for travellers. More than once he was stopped and questioned by
parties of soldiers, but the pass given him by Mr. Le Bas satisfied
them, and he was allowed to proceed.
He had decided to approach Delhi from the south-west. He struck off,
therefore, in the direction of Bahadurgurh, and was within seven miles
of his destination when a heavy storm of rain came on, drenching him to
the skin. The camel is a beast of most uncertain temper, and in the
midst of the storm Ahmed's steed suddenly sank on its knees beneath a
large banian-tree that stood solitary by the roadside, tucked its legs
under it, and refused to budge. Ahmed was well acquainted with the ways
of camels, and knew that no coercion would make the animal move until it
pleased: all that he could do was to wait in patience for its sulky fit
to pass. Fortunately it had chosen for its resting-place a spot where
the banian-tree afforded some shelter from the rain, and from the sun
when the rain ceased. Swampy paddy fields lay on both sides of the road,
and muggy steam rose from the ground under the sun's heat, making Ahmed
feel very unco
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