nto a savage scowl. "That
may not be in my lifetime," he said. "Besides, are there no mountains
all around? In five hours I shall be in China, and in a little more I
might be beyond the Amu. But why talk of this? The accursed English
shall not escape us, I swear by the hilt of my sword and the hearts of
my fathers."

A subdued murmur of applause ran around the circle.

"You are men after my own heart," said the stranger. "Meanwhile, a word
in your own ear, Fazir Khan. Dare you come to Bardur with me?"

The chief made a gesture of repugnance. "I hate that place of mud and
lime. The blood of my people cries on me when I enter the gates. But
if it is your counsel I will come with you."

"I wish to assure myself that the place is quiet. Our success depends
upon the whole country being unsuspicious and asleep. Now if word has
got to the south, and worse still to England, there will be questions
asked and vague instructions sent up to the frontier. We shall find a
stir among the garrisons, and perhaps some visitors in the place. And
at the very worst we might find some fool inquiring about the Nazri
Pass. There was once a man in Bardur who did, but people laughed at him
and he has gone."

"Where?" asked the chief.

"To England. But he was a harmless man, and he is too old to have any
vigour."

As the darkness grew over the hills the fires were brightened and the
curious game of _khoti_ was played in groups of six. The women came to
the house-doors to sit and gossip, and listened to the harsh laughter of
their lords from beside the fires. A little after midnight, when the
stars were picked out in the deep, velvet sky, Fazir Khan and the
stranger, both muffled to the ears, stole beyond the street and
scrambled down the perilous path-ways to the south.

CHAPTER XXII

THE OUTPOSTS

Towards the close of a wet afternoon two tongas discharged Lewis,
George, two native servants, and a collection of gun-cases in the
court-yard of the one hotel in Bardur. They had made a record journey
up country, stopping to present no letters of introduction, which are
the thieves of time. Now, as Lewis found himself in the strait valley,
with the eternal snows where the sky should be, and sniffed the dry air
from the granite walls, he glowed with the pleasure of recollection.

The place was the same as ever. The same medley of races perambulated
the streets. Sheep-skinned Central Asians and Mongolian merchants from
Yarkand still d