talked in my house! I was in Rewa Gunga's carriage on the train
that he took and you did not! I have learned at first hand that
you are not a fool. But that was not enough! You had to be three
things--clever and brave and one other. The one other you are!
Brave you have proved yourself to be! Clever you must be, to trick
your way into Khinjan Caves, even with Ismail at your elbow! That
is why I saved your life--because you are those two things and--and--
one other!"

She snatched a mirror from a little ivory table--a modern mirror--
bad glass, bad art, bad workmanship, but silver warranted.

"Look in it and then at him!" she ordered.

But he did not need to look. The man on the bed was not so much
like himself as the woman was like her, but the resemblance seemed
to grow under his eyes, as such things do. It was helped out by
the stain his brother had applied to his face in the Khyber. King
was the taller and the younger by several years, but the noses were
the same, and the wrinkled fore-heads; both men had the same firm
mouth; both looked like Romans.

"How did you get that scar?"

She came closer and took his hand, holding it in both hers, and
he felt the same thrill Samson knew. He steeled himself as Samson
did not.

"A Mahsudi got me with a martini at long range in the blockade of
1902," he said dryly.