u do if, for your son's sake, we
pardon you?"

The chief's eyes flashed.

"I will go back to Shagpur, my village, Jan Larrens," he said, "and
first slay that vile son of a dog, Dilasah, and after that I will seek
Minghal Khan till I find him, and when I have slain him I shall be ready
to die."

The officers smiled again--a smile not of derision, or even amusement,
but rather of appreciation of the directness and honesty of the fearless
old chief.

"Well, then," said Lawrence, "we pardon you, on this condition: that you
go back to your village and trouble us no more. And if you keep good
order, and help to maintain the peace of the frontier, we shall hold you
as a friend to the British raj, and that will be for your good. And
now," he added, turning to Ahmed, "do you still wish to leave the
Guides?"

"No, sahib; there is no need." His face was bright with pleasure.

"What would you have done if Daly Sahib had allowed you to resign?"

"Sahib, I should have released my father."

The whole company of officers burst into a chuckling laugh; even Sir
John's stern features relaxed.

"I am glad there is no need for that. Captain Daly, I think this young
man's loyalty to the corps in such circumstances merits recognition.
Perhaps you will make a note of his name for the first vacancy in the
commissioned ranks."

He stepped from his seat and held out his hand to the Pathan chief.
Rahmut grasped it, hesitated a moment, then said in a voice he with
difficulty controlled--

"Jan Larrens, I have a thing to say. It is meet I say it. These nine
years it has been locked in my heart, but the deeds of Ahmed Khan and
thy kindness have proven both as a key. Ahmed Khan is the son of my
heart, but not of my body. He is one of yourselves. He is a Feringhi."

And then he told the story of Ahmed from the time he had been snatched
from his father's murderers. It was characteristic of the old chief
that, even though Minghal Khan was his enemy, he did not disclose the
fact that it was he who had murdered Mr. Barclay.

"God bless my soul!" ejaculated the astonished Englishman. "What is the
boy's name!"

"Barkelay, if that is the Feringhis' way of saying it."

"By George!" ejaculated Colonel Herbert Edwardes. "I knew George
Barclay; so did you, Sir John; in fact, I'm not sure I haven't played
ride-a-cock horse with this youngster on my knee. The whirligig of
time!--my word, it's a queer world."

Rahmut Khan was submitted to a sea