Lewis stared open-mouthed at George, the irrepressible, in this new attitude.  He, as the hardened traveller, had had little more than a decent pang of home-sickness.  His regret was far deeper and more real than the sentimental article of commerce, and he could afford to be almost gay while George sat in the depths.

“I’m coming home, and I’m not happy; you young men are going out, and you have got the blues.  There’s no pleasing weak humanity.  I say, Haystoun, who’s that old man?” Gribton’s jovial looks belied his words.

Lewis mentioned a name for his host’s benefit.  The room was emptying rapidly, for the Cercle dined early.

“Now for business,” said Gribton, when a waiter had brought the game course, and they sat in the midst of a desert of linen and velvet.  “I have given the thing up, but I spent twenty of my best years at Bardur.  So, as I am instructed to do all in my power to aid you, I am ready.  First, is it sport?

“Partly,” said George, but Lewis’s head gave denial.

“Because, if it is, I am not the best man.  Well, then, is it geographical?  For if it is, there is much to be done.”

“Partly,” said Lewis.

“Then I take it that the residue is political.  You are following the popular avenue to polities, I suppose.  Leave the ’Varsity very raw, knock about in an unintelligent way for three or four years on some frontier, then come home, go into the House, and pose as a specialist in foreign affairs.  I should have thought you had too much humour for that.”

“Only, you see, I have been there before.  I am merely going back upon my tracks to make sure.  I go purely as an adventurer, hoping to pick up some valuable knowledge, but prepared to fail.”

Gribton helped himself to champagne.  “That’s better.  Now I know your attitude, we can talk like friends.  Better come to the small smoking-room.  They’ve got a ’51 brandy here which is beyond words.  Have some for a liqueur.”

In the smoking-room Gribton fussed about coffee and cigars for many minutes ere he settled down.  Then, when he could gaze around and see his two guests in deep armchairs, each smoking and comfortable, he returned to his business.

“I don’t mind telling you a secret,” he said, “or rather it’s only a secret here, for once you get out there you will find ‘Gribton’s view,’ as they call it, well enough known and very much laughed at.  I’ve always been held up to ridicule as an alarmist about that Kashmir frontier, and especially about that Bardur country.  Take the whole province.  It’s well garrisoned on the north, but below that it is all empty and open.  The way into the Punjab is as clear as daylight for a swift force, and the way to the Punjab is the way to India.”

Lewis rose and went to a rack on the wall.  “Do you mind if I get down maps?  These French ones are very good.”  He spread a sheet of canvas on the table, thereby confounding all Gribton’s hospitable manoeuvring.