would be saving, once a clever man were put on his guard by it.
Would she speak—and betray General Crandall, her kindly host? Would she lock her lips and see a man walk blindfolded to his death?
A few minutes before five o'clock, Major Bishop was announced at Government House and received by General Crandall in the library. Before Jaimihr Khan, who had preceded the visitor through the double doors from the hall, could retire, his master stopped him.
"One minute, Jaimihr! Have a seat. Bishop; glad you've come a bit early. Come here, Jaimihr!"
The tall reedlike figure of the Indian glided to General Crandall's side. His thin ascetic features were set in their usual mold of unseeing detachment; only his dark eyes showed animation.
"Yes, my General," he said, as he stopped before the Englishman.
"I have a little commission for you, Jaimihr," General Crandall began, weighing his words with care. "The utmost discretion—you understand?"
