The Broken Road | Page 7

white flowing robes, with a deeply pock-marked face and
a hooked nose, walked majestically in. He stood quite still while the
gate was barred again behind him, and looked calmly about him with
inquisitive bright eyes.
"Will you follow me?" said Luffe, and he led the way through the
rabbit-warren of narrow alleys into the centre of the fort.
CHAPTER III
LINFORTH'S DEATH
Luffe had taken a large bare low-roofed room supported upon pillars
for his council-chamber. Thither he conducted his visitor. Camp chairs
were placed for himself and Major Dewes and Captain Lynes. Cushions
were placed upon the ground for his visitor. Luffe took his seat in the
middle, with Dewes upon his right and Lynes upon his left. Dewes

expected him at once to press for information as to Linforth. But Luffe
knew very well that certain time must first be wasted in ceremonious
preliminaries. The news would only be spoken after a time and in a
roundabout fashion.
"If we receive you without the distinction which is no doubt your due,"
said Luffe politely, "you must remember that I make it a rule not to
welcome visitors at night."
The visitor smiled and bowed.
"It is a great grief to his Highness Wafadar Nazim that you put so little
faith in him," replied the Chilti. "See how he trusts you! He sends me,
his Diwan, his Minister of Finance, in the night time to come up to your
walls and into your fort, so great is his desire to learn that the Colonel
Sahib is well."
Luffe in his turn bowed with a smile of gratitude. It was not the time to
point out that his Highness Wafadar Nazim was hardly taking the
course which a genuine solicitude for the Colonel Sahib's health would
recommend.
"His Highness has but one desire in his heart. He desires peace--peace
so that this country may prosper, and peace because of his great love
for the Colonel Sahib."
Again Luffe bowed.
"But to all his letters the Colonel Sahib returns the same answer, and
truly his Highness is at a loss what to do in order that he may ensure the
safety of the Colonel Sahib and his followers," the Diwan continued
pensively. "I will not repeat what has been already said," and at once he
began at interminable length to contradict his words. He repeated the
proposals of surrender made by Wafadar Nazim from beginning to end.
The Colonel Sahib was to march out of the fort with his troops, and his
Highness would himself conduct him into British territory.
"If the Colonel Sahib dreads the censure of his own Government, his

Highness will take all the responsibility for the Colonel Sahib's
departure. But no blame will fall upon the Colonel Sahib. For the
British Government, with whom Wafadar Nazim has always desired to
live in amity, desires peace too, as it has always said. It is the British
Government which has broken its treaties."
"Not so," replied Luffe. "The road was undertaken with the consent of
the Khan of Chiltistan, who is the ruler of this country, and Wafadar,
his uncle, merely the rebel. Therefore take back my last word to
Wafadar Nazim. Let him make submission to me as representative of
the Sirkar, and lay down his arms. Then I will intercede for him with
the Government, so that his punishment be light."
The Diwan smiled and his voice changed once more to a note of
insolence.
"His Highness Wafadar Nazim is now the Khan of Chiltistan. The other,
the deposed, lies cooped up in this fort, a prisoner of the British, whose
willing slave he has always been. The British must retire from our
country. His Highness Wafadar Nazim desires them no harm. But they
must go now!"
Luffe looked sternly at the Diwan.
"Tell Wafadar Nazim to have a care lest they go never, but set their
foot firmly upon the neck of this rebellious people."
He rose to signify that the conference was at an end. But the Diwan did
not stir. He smiled pensively and played with the tassels of his cushion.
"And yet," he said, "how true it is that his Highness thinks only of the
Colonel Sahib's safety."
Some note of satisfaction, not quite perfectly concealed, some sly
accent of triumph sounding through the gently modulated words, smote
upon Luffe's ears, and warned him that the true meaning of the Diwan's
visit was only now to be revealed. All that had gone before was nothing.
The polite accusations, the wordy repetitions, the expressions of good

will--these were the mere preliminaries, the long salute before the
combat. Luffe steeled himself against a blow, controlling his face and
his limbs lest a look or a gesture should betray the hurt. And it was well
that he did,