But did it cause him to think with pity of the agonies he had caused them?
Not in the least.
When Ahmed rejoined his people Kathlyn was leaning against her father's shoulder, smiling wanly.
"Where is Umballa ?" cried Bruce, seizing Ahmed by the arm.
"On the way to the palace!" Ahmed laughed and told what he had accomplished.
Bruce raised his hands in anger.
"But, Sahib!" began Ahmed, not comprehending.
"And, having him in your hands, you let him go!" Ahmed stood dumfounded.

His jaw sagged, his rifle slipped from his hands and fell with a clank at his feet.
"You are right, Sahib.

I am an unthinking fool.

May Allah forgive me!" "We could have held him as hostage, and tomorrow morning we all could have left Allaha free, unhindered! God forgive you, Ahmed, for not thinking!" "In the heat of battle, Sahib, one does not always think of the morrow." But Ahmed's head fell and his chin touched his breast.

That he, Ahmed, of the secret service, should let spite overshadow forethought and to be called to account for it! He was disgraced.
"Never mind, Ahmed," said Kathlyn kindly.