Anim Singh laughed.
"Leave the Kurds to fight it out below, then!" said he.

"While they fight, let us eat up distance into Persia, gold and all!" Ranjoor Singh, with the night mist sparkling like jewels on his beard, eyed him in silence for a minute.

Then: "I give thee leave," he said, "to take as many men as share that opinion, and to bolt for your skins into Persia or anywhither! The rest of us will stay and keep the regiment's promise!" That was enough for Anim Singh.

I have said he is a Sikh with a soldier's heart.

He wept, there on the ledge, where we three leaned, and begged forgiveness until Ranjoor Singh told him curtly that forgiveness came of deeds, not words.