An English boy, stolen in his childhood by a Pathan chief, is brought up by him as his son. Bred in the Pathan modes of life, he has practically become one of them, but his "Feringhi" blood shows itself in a directness and decision that, combined with his fearlessness, enable him to play a leading role when occasion serves.
ts his lot, he will be loaded with chains or cast out of the village, a beggar to the end of his days."
"And what of us, then?" asked Ahmed.
"Hai!" said the old man. "As for you, I speak not, Ahmed-ji; but for me, I am too old, as I said. I have my knife."
Ahmed looked into the gate-keeper's face. He read there neither fear nor despair, nothing but a calm resolution. Then he uttered a scornful laugh.
"No one can strive against Fate, truly," he said; "but who knows that Fate has given us into Minghal's hand? By the beard of the Prophet, Ahsan----"
But the old man put his hand on the boy's mouth.
"Hush, Ahmed-ji," he said, with a sort of stern tenderness; "'tis not meet, little one, that oath in your mouth. You have well-nigh forgotten, but I do not forget. We are as we were born, and you were born a Feringhi."
The Making of a Pathan
Eight years before this raid of Minghal's on