Nana Sahib, a sneer on his lips, turned to the Minister:  “Play him, Dewani, as you love us.  There is some rare deviltry afloat.”

“Why have you come, Jamadar?” the Dewan asked.

Hunsa’s pig eyes shifted from Sewlal’s face to roam over the other two, and then returned a question in them.

“Tell him,” Nana Sahib suggested, “that he has nothing to fear from us.”

The jamadar was troubled by the English exchange, but the Dewan explained:  “The Prince says you are to speak what is on your mind.”

“It is this, Sahib Bahadur,” Hunsa began, “there is a way that the head of Amir Khan might be obtained as a gift for Maharaja Sindhia.  Then Raja Karowlee would be pleased for he would receive his commission and we would be given a reward.”

“What is the way?” Sewlal queried.

“The Chief of the Pindaris, after the habit of Moslems, is one whose heart softens toward a woman who is beautiful and is pleasing to his eye.”

“Ancient history,” Nana Sahib commented in English, “and not confined to Musselmen.”

“Speak on,” the Dewan commanded curtly.

“When I rode with Amir Khan,” Hunsa resumed, “in loot there fell to the Chief’s share a dancing girl, and Amir Khan, perhaps out of respect to his two wives, would visit her at night quietly in the tent that was given her as a place of residing.”

“Amir Khan seems to be less a Pindari and more a human than I thought him,” Nana Sahib commented drily.

“The world is a very small place, Prince,” Baptiste added.

“But why has Hunsa brought this tale to men of affairs?” Sewlal queried.

Hunsa cast a furtive look over his shoulder toward the verandah, and his coarse voice dropped a full octave.  “The Presence has observed Bootea, the one called Gulab Begum, who is with Ajeet Singh?”

“Ah-ha!” It was Nana Sahib’s exclamation.

“Yes,” the Dewan answered drily.

“If a party of Bagrees were to go to the Pindari camp disguised as players and wrestlers, and the Gulab as a nautchni, Amir Khan might be enticed to her tent for she causes men to become drunk when she dances.  Once she danced for Raja Karowlee, and, though he is old and fat and has more of wives than other possessions he became covetous of the girl.  It is because of these things, that Ajeet keeps her within the length of his eye.  Thus the Gulab would hold Amir Khan in her hand, and some night as he slept in her tent I would crawl neath the canvas and accomplish that which is desired.”

“By Jove!” Nana Sahib exclaimed, “this jungle man has got the right idea.  But if Ajeet goes on that trip he’ll never come back—­Hunsa will see to that.”

Then the son of the Peshwa took a quick turn to the door and gazed out as if he had his Arab in mind—­something wrong; but a sweet bit of deviltry had suddenly occurred to him.  He had noticed the young Englishman’s interest in Bootea; had known that the girl’s eyes had shown admiration for the handsome sahib.  A woman—­by Jove! yes.  If he could bring the two of them together; have the Gulab get Barlow sensually interested she might act as a spy, get Barlow to talk.  No instrument like a woman for that purpose.  Nana Sahib turned back to where the Dewan had been questioning Hunsa.