But to take action, to create a stir, would give rise to a
suspicion of the existence of this."
Hodson rose from his chair and paced the floor, one hand clasped to his
forehead, his small grey eyes carrying a dream-look as though he were
seeking an occult enlightenment; then he sat down wearily, and spoke as
if interpreting something that had been whispered him.
"Yes, Barlow, this decoit has been seized by the Nana Sahib lot. His
life was forfeit, and they've offered him his life back to come here
and turn Approver--to become a spy, not _for_ us but as a spy _on_ us
for them. Ajeet would know that information of his coming to me would
be carried to them by spies--the spies are always with me--and his life
wouldn't be worth two annas. I gave him that pardon because we have no
power to seize him here, but it will make them think that we have
fallen into the trap. They might even believe--wily and suspicious as
they are--that what he gleans here is the truth.
"There's a curious efficacy, Barlow, in what I might call an
affectation of simplicity.
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