King lit a cheroot and made mental note of the wisdom of referring to her by pronoun, not by name.
"And I? Who am I?" he asked, since it saves worlds of trouble to have the other side state the case. The Secret Service was not designed for giving information, but discovering it.
"Her messenger! Who else? Thou art he who shall take us to the 'Hills'! She promised!"
"How did she know ye were in this jail?" he asked them, and one of the Hillmen laughed like a jackal, showing yellow eye-teeth. The others cackled in chorus after him.
"Answer that riddle thyself—or else ask her! Who are we? Bats, that can see in the night? Spirits, who can hear through walls? Nay, we be plain men of the mountains!"
"But where were ye when she promised?"
"At Ali's. All of us at Ali's—held for debt. We sent and begged of her. She sent word back by a woman that one of the sirkar's men shall free us and send us home. So we waited, eating shame and little else, at Ali's. At last came a sahib in a great rage, who ordered irons put on our wrists and us marched hither. Only when each was pushed into a separate cell were the irons taken off again. Yet we were patient, for we knew this is part of her cunning, to get us away from Ali without paying him. 'May Ali die of want,' said we, with one voice all together in these cells! And now we be ready! They fed us before we had been in here an hour. Our bellies be full, but we be hungry for the 'Hills'!"
King thought of the gold-hilted knife, that still rested under his shirt. He was tempted to show it to them and find out surely whose it was and what it meant. But wisdom and curiosity seldom mingle. He thought of Ismail—"Ursus, of Quo Vadis—dog, desperado, stalking-horse and Keeper of the Queen's secrets." It was not time yet to run risks with Ismail. The knife stayed where it was.
"I shall start for the Hills at dawn," he said slowly, and he watched their eyes gleam at the news. No caged tiger is as wretched as a prisoned Hillman. No freed bird wings more wildly for the open. No moth comes more foolishly back to the flame again. It was easy to take pity on them—probably not one of whom knew pity's meaning.
"Is there any among you who would care to come—?"
"Ah-h-h-h!"
"—at the price of strict obedience?"
"Eh-h-h-h-h!"
It seemed there was no word in Pashtu that could express their willingness.
"We be very, very weary for our Hills!" explained the nearest man.
"Aye!" King answered. "And ye all owe Ali!"
"Uh-h-h-h-h!"
But he knew better than to browbeat them on that account just then, for the men of the North are easier led than driven—up to a certain point. Yet it is no bad plan to remind them of the fundamentals to begin with.
"Will ye obey me, and him?" he asked, laying his hand on Ismail's shoulder, as much to let them see the bracelet again as for any other reason.
"Aye! If we fail, Allah do more to us!"
King laughed. "Ye shall leave this place as my prisoners. Here ye have no friends. Here ye must obey. But what when ye come to your 'Hills' at last? Can one man hold thirty men prisoners then? In the 'Hills' will ye still obey me?"
They answered him in chorus. Every man of the thirty, and Ismail into the bargain, threw his right hand in the air.
"Allah witness that we will obey!"
"Ah-h-h!" said King. "I have heard Hillmen swear by Allah many a time! Many a time!"
The answer to that was unexpected. Ismail knelt—seized his hand—and pressed the gold bracelet to his lips!
In turn, every one of them filed by, knelt reverently and kissed the bracelet!
"Saw ye ever a Hillman do that before?" asked Ismail. "They will obey thee! Have no fear!"
"Kutch dar nahin hai!" King answered. "There is no such thing as fear!" and Ismail grinned at him, not knowing that King was feeling as Aladdin must have done.
"I have heard you swear," said King; "be ye true men!"
"Ah-h-h!"
"Have they belongings that ought to be collected first?" he asked, and Ismail laughed.
"No more than the dead have! A shroud apiece! Ali gave them bitterness to eat and picked their teeth afterward for gleanings! They stand in what they own!"
"Then, come!" ordered King, turning his back confidently on thirty savages whom Saunders, for instance, would have preferred to drive in front of him, after first seeing them handcuffed. But when he is not pressed for time neither pistols, nor yet handcuffs, are included in King's method.
"Each lock has a key, but some keys fit all locks," says the Eastern proverb. King has been chosen for many ticklish errands in his time, and Saunders is still in Delhi.
