“But the dead Chief, Commander—?”

“Yes, because of him; he loved his people.  And the knowledge that yon dog has he would not have sacrificed.”

“But is Amir Khan to be unavenged?” the jamadar queried.

“Allah will punish yonder infidel for the killing of one of the true faith.  Go and summon the officers from below and we will decide upon this.”

Soon a dozen officers were in the room, and the sowars were sent away.  Then Kassim explained the situation saying:  “A confession brought forth by torture is often but a lie, the concoction of a mind crazed with pain.  If this dog, who has more courage than feeling, sees the chance of his life he will tell us the truth.”

But they expostulated; saying that if they let him go free it would be a blot upon their name.

“The necessity is great,” Kassim declared, “and this I am convinced is the only way.  We may leave his punishment to Allah, for Allah is great.  He will not let live one so vile.”

Finally the others agreed with Kassim who said that he would take the full onus upon himself for not slaying the murderer, that if there were blame let it be upon his head.  Then he spoke to Hunsa:  “This has been decided upon, dog, that if thou confess, reveal to us information that is of value to our people, the torture shall cease, and no man’s head in the whole Pindari camp shall be raised against thee either to wound or take thy life.”

“But the gaol, Hazari Sahib?”

“No, dog, if thou but tell the truth in full, that we may profit, to-morrow thou may go free, and if any man in the camp wounds thee his life will pay for it.  Till noon thou may have for the going; even food for thy start on the way back to the land of thy accursed tribe.  By the Beard of the Prophet no man of all the Pindari force shall wound thee.  Now speak quick, for I have given a pledge.”

There were murmurs amongst the jamadars at Kassim’s terms, for their hearts were full of hate for the creature who had slain their loved chief.  But Kassim was a man famous for his intelligence.  In all the councils Amir Khan had been swayed by the Hazari’s judgment.  It was an accursed price to pay, they felt, but the Chief was dead; to kill his slayer perhaps was not as great a thing as to have Hunsa’s confession written and attested to.  All that vast horde of fierce riding Pindaris and Bundoolas had been gathered by Amir Khan with the object of being a power in the war that was brewing—­the war in which the Mahrattas were striving for ascendency, and the British massing to crush the Mahratta horde.  It had been Amir Khan’s policy to strike with the winning force; perhaps his big body of hard-riding sowars being the very power that would throw the odds to one or other of the contenders.  Their reward would be loot, unlimited loot, so dear to the heart of the Pindari, and an assignment of territory.  To know, beyond doubt, who had instigated the murder of the Chief was precious knowledge.  It might be, as the Gulab had said, Sindhia’s Dewan, but there was the English officer there at that time; and the message of friendship may have been a message of deceit and the true object the slaying of Amir Khan who was looked upon as a great leader.