Across Hind to Simla." "The hour has arrived ?" "At least the excuse.

Give these to one in authority with the British Raj, whose bread we eat." Ahmed slid across the table a very small scroll.

"The Mem-sahib is my master's daughter.

She must be spirited away to safety." "Ah!" Lal Singh rubbed his fat hands.

"So the time nears when we shall wring the vulture's neck?
Ai, it is good! Umballa, the toad, who swells and swells as the days go by.