"A threat to a bully--to a fool, folly--to a drunkard, drink--to each, his own! Be going now!" So I saluted him and led away, wondering in my heart, the weather growing worse, if that were possible, but my spirits rising.

I knew now that my back was toward Gallipoli, where the nearest British were, yet my heart felt bold with love for Ranjoor Singh and I did not doubt we would strike a good blow yet for our friends, although I had no least idea who Wassmuss was, nor whither we were marching.
If I had known--eh, but listen, sahib--this is a tale of tales!.