True, the postmark showed that the letter had been posted in Calcutta, but more than one native of Chiltistan had come south and set up as a money-lender in that city on the proceeds of a successful burglary.

He replaced the letter in his pocket, and rode on at a walk through the throng.

The darkness came quickly; oil lamps were lighted in the booths and shone though the unglazed window-spaces overhead.

A refreshing coolness fell upon the town, the short, welcome interval between the heat of the day and the suffocating heat of the night.

Shere Ali turned his horse and rode back again to the gate.