There was no subtlety in the question.  Nick had long since abandoned subtlety in his dealings with Max Wyndham, a fact which indicated that he held him in very high esteem.

Max’s response expressed appreciation of the fact.  He took his hand from his pocket and carelessly stretched it out.  “I am absolutely sure,” he said.  “Make your mind easy on that point!”

Their hand-grip was silent and brief.  It ended the discussion by mutual consent.

At once Max changed the subject.  “Is that chap your khit or your valet or what?”

“He is all three combined,” said Nick.  “Why?  Think I work him too hard?”

The Indian showed his teeth in a splendid smile, but said nothing.

“No, but where’s the other fellow?” said Max.

“What other fellow?” Nick thrust his one arm with vigour into his riding-coat.

“The chap I saw here the other night—­an old chap.  I came along the verandah to tell you there was someone sneaking in the compound, and he shut the window in my face.  I presumed he was head-nurse or bearer, or whatever you are pleased to call them in these parts.”

“Oh, that fellow!” said Nick.  “Quite a venerable old chap, you mean?  Rather scraggy—­not over-clean?”

“That’s the man,” said Max.

Nick laughed.  “Great Scott!  You didn’t seriously, think he was my bearer, did you?  No, he’s an old moonstone-seller who comes to see me occasionally.  He’s not so disreputable as he looks.  I find him handy in the matter of bazaar politics, with which I consider it useful to keep in touch.”

Max received the information with a nod.  His green eyes were watching Nick’s lithe movements with thoughtful intentness.

“How long is this job going to last?” he asked abruptly.

“Heaven knows,” was Nick’s airy response.

Max was silent a moment; then:  “You will send her away if it gets too hot?” he said.

Nick took up his riding-switch.  “It’s a tricky climate,” he observed, “but I am keeping an eye on the weather.  I don’t anticipate anything of the nature of a heat-wave at present.”

Max grunted.  “Are you sure your barometer is a trustworthy one?”

Nick smiled.  “I have every reason to believe so.”  He turned and clapped a kindly hand on Max’s shoulder.  “All right, old chap.  Don’t be anxious!  I’ll take care of her,” he said.

Max looked at him.  “You had better take care of yourself too,” he said.

“Trust me!” laughed Nick.

There came a knock at the door, to which Kasur responded.  It was Olga’s ayah.  A few whispered words passed between them, then the khitmutgar softly closed it and approached Nick.

“Miss sahib is tired this morning, and cannot ride with the sahibs.  She asks that you will go to her, sahib, before you leave.”

Nick glanced at Max.  “You had better come too.”