"It may be, too," he said cunningly, "that your Excellency loves to tell a good story after dinner.

Now there is one way to stop that story." Ralston laughed.

"If I could hold my tongue, you mean," he replied.
Futteh Ali Shah came nearer still.

He rode up close and leaned a little over towards Ralston.
"Your Excellency would lose the story," he said, "but on the other hand there would be a gain--a gain of many hours of sleep passed otherwise in guessing." He spoke in an insinuating fashion, which made Ralston disinclined to strike a bargain--and he nodded his head like one who wishes to convey that he could tell much if only he would.

But Ralston paused before he answered, and when he answered it was only to put a question.
"What do you mean ?" he asked.
And the reply came in a low quick voice.
"There was a message sent through Chiltistan." Ralston started.