On the one side was all that during ten years he had gradually learned to love and enjoy; on the other side was his race and the land of his birth.  He could not answer the question; for there was a third possibility which had not yet entered into his speculations, and in that third possibility alone was the answer to be found.

CHAPTER XI

AT THE GATE OF LAHORE

Shere Ali, accordingly, travelled with reluctance to Bombay, and at that port an anonymous letter with the postmark of Calcutta was brought to him on board the steamer.  Shere Ali glanced through it, and laughed, knowing well his countrymen’s passion for mysteries and intrigues.  He put the letter in his pocket and took the northward mail.  These were the days before the North-West Province had been severed from the Punjab, and instructions had been given to Shere Ali to break his journey at Lahore.  He left the train, therefore, at that station, on a morning when the thermometer stood at over a hundred in the shade, and was carried in a barouche drawn by camels to Government House.  There a haggard and heat-worn Commissioner received him, and in the cool of the evening took him for a ride, giving him sage advice with the accent of authority.

“His Excellency would have liked to have seen you himself,” said the Commissioner.  “But he is in the Hills and he did not think it necessary to take you so far out of your way.  It is as well that you should get to Kohara as soon as possible, and on particular subjects the Resident, Captain Phillips, will be able and glad to advise you.”

The Commissioner spoke politely enough, but the accent of authority was there.  Shere Ali’s ears were quick to notice and resent it.  Some years had passed since commands had been laid upon him.

“I shall always be glad to hear what Captain Phillips has to say,” he replied stiffly.

“Yes, yes, of course,” said the Commissioner, taking that for granted.  “Captain Phillips has our views.”

He did not seem to notice the stiffness of Shere Ali’s tone.  He was tired with the strain of the hot weather, as his drawn face and hollow eyes showed clearly.

“On general lines,” he continued, “his Excellency would like you to understand that the Government has no intention and no wish to interfere with the customs and laws of Chiltistan.  In fact it is at this moment particularly desirable that you should throw your influence on the side of the native observances.”

“Indeed,” said Shere Ali, as he rode along the Mall by the Commissioner’s side.  “Then why was I sent to Oxford?”

The Commissioner was not surprised by the question, though it was abruptly put.

“Surely that is a question to ask of his Highness, your father,” he replied.  “No doubt all you learnt and saw there will be extremely valuable.  What I am saying now is that the Government wishes to give no pretext whatever to those who would disturb Chiltistan, and it looks to you with every confidence for help and support.”