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An orphaned street-urchin follows a holy man across India during the time of the British Raj, eventually gaining an education and becoming a recruit to the Great Game of espionage against the Russians.

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Table of Contents

XII

throat every night for thee pay-chest. My native sepoy-guard, they laughed at me! By Jove! I was such a fearful man. Nevar mind thatt. I go on colloquially⁠ ⁠… I send word many times that these two Kings were sold to the North; and Mahbub Ali, who was yet farther North, amply confirmed it. Nothing was done. Only my feet were frozen, and a toe dropped off. I sent word that the roads for which I was paying money to the diggers were being made for the feet of strangers and enemies.”

“For?”

“For the Russians. The thing was an open jest among the coolies. Then I was called down to tell what I knew by speech of tongue. Mahbub came South too. See the end! Over the Passes this year after snow-melting”⁠—he shivered afresh⁠—“come two strangers under cover of shooting wild goats. They bear guns, but they bear also chains and levels and compasses.”

“Oho! The thing gets clearer.”

“They are well received by Hilás and Bunár. They make great promises; they speak as the mouthpiece of a Kaisar with gifts. Up the valleys, down the valleys go they, saying, ‘Here is a place to build

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