anger isn't mild in these days!"

"Show me the letter again," said the Rajput. "Let me keep it in case
I am brought to book."

Tom translated that to Tess and her husband.

"It's this way, ma'am. If you let him keep the letter I suspect he'll let
you go in. But he may show it to the maharajah in the morning, and
then there'll be hot fat in the fire. If you don't let him keep it, perhaps
he'll admit you and perhaps he won't; but if you keep the letter, and
trouble comes of it, he and I'll both be in the soup! Never mind
about me. Maybe I'm too valuable to be sent packing. I'll take the
chance. But this man's a decent soldier, and he'd be helpless."

"Let him keep it," said Tess.

Tom turned on the Rajput again.

"Here's the letter. Take it. But mark this! What his highness wants
tonight is discretion. There might be promotion for a man who'd say
nothing about this night's work. If, on top of that, he was soldier enough
to keep his men from talking he'd be reported favorably to his highness
by Tom Tripe. Who got you made risaldar, eh? Who stood up for you,
when you were charged with striking Gullam Singh? Was Tom Tripe's
friendship worth having then? Now suit yourself! I've said all I'm
going to say."

The Rajput muttered something in his beard, stared again at the letter
as if that of itself would justify him, looked sharply at Tess, whose hamper