Even the driver and stokers of the special train never knew who so generously presented them with a ten pound note apiece.

"Some secret service racket," they laughed over their ale.

Not a tremor of a single muscle betrayed Major Alan Hawke when he delivered over his official charge, Major General Abercromby, to Hugh Johnstone in the golden glow of Delhi's morning.

"I've kept your interests in view," he whispered.

"The old boy's just two hundred pounds richer.