inner and the outer doors; then, furtively as
a thief might move, he went to the almirah. Looking round as if to make
sure even now that no one was observing him, he slid a portion of the
back of the almirah aside, disclosing the stone wall of the room. He put
his hand on one of the slabs of stone: it yielded to his touch, and
opened slowly inwards. He stepped in, drew back the panel of the almirah
to its former place, and disappeared.

CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH

Within the Gates

It was still early morning when Ahmed rode up to the red walls of Delhi;
but in spite of the hour there was already much traffic through the
Ajmir gate. A long line of bullock-carts was filing along the Jaipur
road past the garden suburb of Paharganj, conveying country produce into
the city. A regiment of sepoys was marching out of the gate towards the
encampment lying across the road. To the left of the gate rose the tomb
of Ghazi Khan, and in the centre of the city towered the dome and
minarets of the Jama Masjid--the splendid mosque which is the Mecca of
Mohammedan India. Ahmed was amazed at the vastness of this city of the
Moguls. He felt as a Highland lad might feel if suddenly transplanted
from his little village among the lochs and mountains to the turmoil of
London.

Delhi had none of the aspects of a beleaguered city; indeed, it was
never in the military sense besieged. The British force was far too
small to attempt a strict investment of the great city. Men might go in
and out as they pleased. The holders of the Ridge were far more closely
beset. Save that his communications were open in the rear, General
Barnard might himself have been considered to be in a state of siege. He
was holding his ground, waiting for the opportunity to strike a blow.

Ahmed followed at the tail end of the procession of carts. As he
approached the gate he observed a strong guard of armed sepoys there,
and wondered whether he would have any difficulty in passing. He felt a
little timid now that he was actually drawing near to the heart and
focus of the great rebellion, but he crushed down the feeling, and
assuming a bold front accosted one of the guard and began in his
imperfect Urdu to pour out his tale of tribulation.

"Salaam, jamadar!" he said, giving the man a sausage by way of
ingratiation a title at least two grades above his proper rank, and
raising his right hand to his brow in due Moslem salutation; "thou dost
behold one who is very th