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‘…I put my hand upon my amulet, which lies always next to my skin, and, remembering the pedigree of a white stallion that I had bitten out of a piece of Mussulman bread, I went away to Umballa perceiving that a heavy trust was laid upon me. At that hour, had I chosen, thy head was forfeit.’…


This is from Kim. Kim is recounting to his old friend Mahbub Ali, the horse dealer and secret agent, how he had seen a thief searching Mahbub Ali’s sadlle-bags very thoroughly. Kim had suspected that this was no ordinary thief, and that his quarry was a message that Mahbub had already entrusted to him. He had risen up forthwith, and delivered it safely to the intelligence chief, Colonel Creighton.