Peshawur, with its crowded streets, its open bazaars, its balconied houses of mud bricks built into wooden frames, lay mapped beneath them.

But Linforth's eyes travelled over the trees and the gardens northwards and eastwards, to where the foothills of the Himalayas were coloured with the violet light of evening.
"Linforth," Ralston cried.

He was leaning on the parapet at the opposite side of the tower, and Dick crossed and leaned at his side.
"It was I who had you sent for," said Ralston in his dull voice.

"When you were at Chatham, I mean.

I worried them in Calcutta until they sent for you." Dick took his elbows from the parapet and stood up.