"Off with the mules' packs!" he ordered, and the men stood round and stared. Darya Khan, leaning on the only rifle in the party, grinned like a post-office letter box.
"Truly," growled Ismail, forgetting past expression of a different opinion, "this man is as mad as all the other Englishmen."
"Were you ever bitten by one?" wondered King aloud.
"God forbid!"
"Then, off with the packs—and hurry!"
Ismail began to obey.
"Thou! Lord of the Rivers! (For that is what Darya Khan means.) What is thy calling?"
"Badragga" (guide), he answered. "Did she not send me back down the Pass to be a guide?"
"And before that what wast thou?"
"Is that thy business?" he snarled, shifting his rifle-barrel to the other hand. "I am what she says I am! She used to call me 'Chikki'—the Lifter!—and I was! There are those who were made to know it! If she says now I am badragga, shall any say she lies?"
"I say thou art unpacker of mules' burdens!" answered King. "Begin!"
For answer the fellow grinned from ear to ear and thrust the rifle-barrel forward insolently. King, with the movement of determination that a man makes when about to force conclusions, drew up his sleeves above the wrist. At that instant the moon shone through the mist and the gold bracelet glittered in the moonlight.
"May God be with thee!" said "Lord of the Rivers" at once. And without another word he laid down his rifle and went to help off-load the mules.
King stepped aside and cursed softly. To a man who knows how to enforce his own authority, it is worse than galling to be obeyed because he wears a woman's favor. But for a vein of wisdom that underlay his pride he would have pocketed the bracelet there and then and have refused to wear it again. But as he sweated his pride he overheard Ismail growl:
"Good for thee! He had taught thee obedience in another bat of the eye!"
"I obey her!" muttered Darya Khan.
"I, too," said Ishmail. "So shall he before the week dies! But now it is good to obey him. He is an ugly man to disobey!"
"I obey him until she sets me free, then," grumbled Darya Khan.
"Better for thee!" said Ismail.
The packs were laid on the ground, and the mules shook themselves, while the jackals that haunt the Khyber came closer, to sit in a ring and watch. King dug a flashlight out of one of the packs, gave it to Ismail to hold, sat on the other pack and began to write on a memorandum pad. It was a minute before he could persuade Ismail that the flashlight was harmless, and another minute before he could get him to hold it still. Then, however, he wrote swiftly.
"In the Khyber, a mile below you.
"Dear Old Man—I would like to run in and see you, but
circumstances don't permit. Several people sent you
their regards by me. Herewith go two mules and their
packs. Make any use of the mules you like, but store
the loads where I can draw on them in case of need.
I would like to have a talk with you before taking the
rather desperate step I intend, but I don't want to be
seen entering or leaving Ali Masjid. Can you come
down the Pass without making your intention known?
It is growing misty now. It ought to be easy. My men
will tell you where I am and show you the way. Why
not destroy this letter?
"Athelstan."