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“Where is Byng-bahadur now?” asked Cunningham.

“At Deeseera, sahib—not shut in altogether, but hard pressed. There came cholera, and Byng-bahadur camped outside the town. He has been striking, sahib, striking hard with all too few to help him. His irregulars, sahib, were disbanded at some one's orders just before this outbreak, but some of them came back at word from him. And there were some of us Sikhs who knew him, and who would rather serve him and die than fight against him and live. He has now two British regiments with him, sadly thinned—some of my people, some Goorkhas, some men from the North—not very many more than two thousand men all told, having lost heavily in action and by disease. But word is going round from mouth to mouth that many sahibs have been superseded, and that only real sahibs such as Byng-bahadur have commands in this hour. Byng-bahadur is a man of men. We who are with him begin to have courage in our bones again. Is the answer ready? Yet a little while? It is well, sahib, I will rest. Salaam!”

“You see,” said Cunningham, “the situation's desperate. We've got to act. Alwa here stands pledged to protect Howrah and you have promised to aid Jaimihr. Somebody's word has got to break, and you may take it from me that it will be the word of the weakest man! I think that that man is Jaimihr, but I can't be sure in advance, and we've got to accept his promise to begin with. Go to him, Miss McClean, and make a very careful bargain with him along the line I mapped out for you. Alwa-sahib, I want witnesses, or rather overhearers. I want you and Mahommed Gunga to place yourselves near Jaimihr's cell so that you can hear what he says. There won't be any doubt then about who has broken promises. Are you ready, Miss McClean?”

She was trembling, but from excitement and not fear. Both Rajputs saluted her as she started back for the cell, and whatever their Mohammedan ideas on women may have been, they chose to honor this one, who was so evidently one of them in the hour of danger. Duncan McClean seemed to be praying softly, for his lips moved.

When the cell-door creaked open, Alwa and Mahommed Gunga were crouched one on either side, listening with the ears of soldiers that do not let many sounds or words escape them.

“Jaimihr-sahib!” she whispered. “Jaimihr-sahib!”

“Ha! Sahiba!” Then he called her by half a dozen names that made the listening Rangars grin into their beards.

“Jaimihr-sahib”—she raised her voice a little now—“if I help you to escape, will you promise me my safety under all conditions?”

“Surely, sahiba!”

“Do you swear to protect every living person on this hill, including the Alwa-sahib and Cunningham-sahib?”

“Surely, sahiba.”

“You swear it?”

“I swear it on my honor. There is no more sacred oath.”

“Then, listen. I can help you to escape now. I have a rope that is long enough to lower you over the parapet. I am prepared to risk the consequences, but I want to bargain with you for aid for my Countrymen.”

Jaimihr did not answer.

“The Alwa-sahib and his Rangars stand pledged to help your brother!”

“I guessed at least that much,” laughed Jaimihr.

“They would not help you against him under any circumstances. But they want to ride to the Company's aid, and they might be prepared to protect you against him. They might guarantee the safety of your palace and your men's homes. They might exact a guarantee from Howrah.”

Jaimihr laughed aloud, careless of the risk of being overheard, and Rosemary knew that Cunningham's little plan was useless even before it had been quite expounded. She felt herself trembling for the consequences.

“Sahiba, there is only one condition that would make me ride to the British aid with all my men.”

“Name it!”

“Thou art it!”

“I don't understand you, Jaimihr-sahib,” she whispered, understanding all too well.

“Follow me. Come to me in Howrah. Then whatever these fool Rangars choose to do, I swear by Siva and the Rites of Siva that I will hurry to the Company's aid!”

Rosemary McClean shuddered, and he knew it. But that fact rather added to his pleasure. The wolf prefers a cowering, frightened prey even though he dare fight on occasion. She was thinking against time. Through that one small, overburdened head, besides a splitting headache, there was flashing the ghastly thought of what was happening to her countrymen and women—of what would happen unless she hurried to do something for their aid. All the burden of all warring India seemed to be resting on her shoulders, in a stifling cell; and Jaimihr seemed to be the only help in sight.

“How many men could you summon to the Company's aid?” she asked him.

He laughed. “Ten thousand!” he boasted.

“Armed and drilled men—soldiers fit to fight?”

“Surely.”

“I think that is a lie, Jaimihr-sahib. There is not time enough to waste on lies. Tell me the exact truth, please.”

He contrived to save his face, or, rather, he contrived to make himself believe he did.

“I would need some to guard my rear,” he answered. “I could lead five thousand to the British aid.”

“Is that the truth?”

“On my honor, sahiba.”

“And you wish to marry me?”

“Sahiba—I—I have no other wish!”

“I agree to marry you provided you will lead five thousand men to the Company's aid, but not until you have done so.”

“You will come to Howrah?”

She could feel his excitement. The cell walls seemed to throb.

“Yes; but I shall come accompanied by my father, and Mr. Cunningham, and all the Rangars he can raise. And I shall hold you to your bargain. You must help the Company first. FIRST—d'you understand?”

“I understand.”

It was Jaimihr's turn now to lay the law down. She had let him see her eagerness to gain his aid for the Company, and he saw the weakness of her case in an instant. He knew very well, too, that no woman of her breed would have thought of consenting to marry him unless her hand was forced. He decided immediately to force it further.

“I understand, sahiba. I, too, will hold thee to thy promise! Thou wilt come with an escort, as befits a prince's wife! But how should I know that the Rangars would prove friends of mine? How should I know that it is not all a trap?”

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