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 “It’s all right,” he said, in the listless tone that he always used nowadays. “When the train got stuck up I smelt rats, and cleared out from the locality—thought it better to cut across country on foot than to stay about a spot where I was probably being looked for. But this beggar,” pointing to Azimoolah, standing at “attention,” proudly erect, “must have shadowed me, and caught me up just as I was coming to tap at the window. You will confer a great favor on me by letting him go.”

This dogged determination to take no prisoners strengthened the General’s suspicions of his host, and there was a harsh ring in the laugh with which he explained that Azimoolah was his own emissary, who, on returning from the scene of the accident, had mistaken the Duke for one of their unknown adversaries. He did not mention that there were two genuine prowlers outside who, but for Azimoolah’s intervention, would have fallen on their prey, and who were probably intensely puzzled by finding someone else playing the same game as themselves.

“And now, if your Grace will go to bed, I will guarantee you a good night’s rest,” added