“Don’t move,” said Ralston.  “This will do for me,” and he sat down upon the edge of the camp bed.  Linforth sat down again on his chair and, as though he were almost unaware of Ralston’s presence, he smoothed out upon his knee the sheets of the letter.  Ralston could not but observe that they were crumpled and creased, as though they had been clenched and twisted in Linforth’s hand.  Then Linforth raised his head, and suddenly thrust the letter into his pocket.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, and he spoke in a spiritless voice.  “The post has just come in.  I received a letter which—­interested me.  Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes,” said Ralston.  “We have sure news at last.  Shere Ali has fled to the north.  The opportunity you asked for at Peshawur has come.”

Linforth was silent for a little while.  Then he said slowly: 

“I see.  I am to go in pursuit?”

“Yes!”

It seemed that Linforth’s animosity against Shere Ali had died out.  Ralston watched him keenly from the bed.  Something had blunted the edge of the tool just when the time had come to use it.  He threw an extra earnestness into his voice.

“You have got to do more than go in pursuit of him.  You have got to find him.  You have got to bring him back as your prisoner.”

Linforth nodded his head.

“He has gone north, you say?”

“Yes.  Somewhere in Central Asia you will find him,” and as Linforth looked up startled, Ralston continued calmly, “Yes, it’s a large order, I know, but it’s not quite so large as it looks.  The trade-routes, the only possible roads, are not so very many.  No man can keep his comings and goings secret for very long in that country.  You will soon get wind of him, and when you do you must never let him shake you off.”

“Very well,” said Linforth, listlessly.  “When do I start?”

Ralston plunged into the details of the expedition and told him the number of men he was to take with him.

“You had better go first into Chinese Turkestan,” he said.  “There are a number of Hindu merchants settled there—­we will give you letters to them.  Some of them will be able to put you on the track of Shere Ali.  You will have to round him up into a corner, I expect.  And whatever you do, head him off Russian territory.  For we want him.  We want him brought back into Kohara.  It will have a great effect on this country.  It will show them that the Sirkar can even pick a man out of the bazaars of Central Asia if he is rash enough to stand up against it in revolt.”

“That will be rather humiliating for Shere Ali,” said Linforth, after a short pause; and Ralston sat up on the bed.  What in the world, he wondered, could Linforth have read in his letter, so to change him?  He was actually sympathising with Shere Ali—­he who had been hottest in his anger.

“Shere Ali should have thought of that before,” Ralston said sharply, and he rose to his feet.  “I rely upon you, Linforth.  It may take you a year.  It may take you only a few months.  But I rely upon you to bring Shere Ali back.  And when you do,” he added, with a smile, “there’s the road waiting for you.”