"Dear Ormond, I hope you have had a good time at the House in the
Woods. I saw Rup Singh a few days ago and he wrote the odd
message I enclose. You know what these natives are, even the most
sensible of them, and you will humour the old fellow for he ages
very fast and I think is breaking up. But this was not what I
wanted to say. I had a letter from a man I had not seen for years
- a fellow called Stephen Clifden, who lives in Kashmir. As a
matter of fact I had forgotten his existence but evidently he has
not repaid the compliment for he writes as follows - No, I had
better send you the note and you can do as you please. I am
rushed off my legs with work and the heat is hell with the lid
off. And-"
But the rest was of no interest except to a friend of years'
standing. I read Rup Singh's message first. It was written in his
own tongue.
"To the Honoured One who has attained to the favour of the
Favourable.
"You have with open eyes seen what this humble one has dreamed
but has not known. If the thing be possible, write me this word
that I may depart in peace.
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