"And you, Alwa-sahib--are you pledged to fight against the British?"

"Not in so many words. I swore to uphold Howrah on his throne. He is against the British."

"You swore to help smash his brother, Jaimihr?"

"If I were needed."

"And Jaimihr too is against the British?"

"Jaimihr is for Jaimihr, and has a personal affair with me!"

"I must think," said Cunningham, getting up. "I can think better alone.

D'you mind if I go outside for a while, and come back later to tell you what I think?"

Alwa arose and held the door open for him--stood and watched him cross the courtyard--then turned and laughed at Mahommed Gunga.

"Straight over to the woman!" he grinned. "This leader of thine seems in leading-strings himself already!"

Mahommed Gunga cursed, and cursed again as his own eyes confirmed what Alwa said.

"I tried him all the ways there are, except that one way!" he declared.

"May Allah forgive my oversight! I should have got him well entangled with a woman before he reached Peshawur! He should have been heart-broken by this time--rightly, he should have been desperate with unrequited love! Byng-bahadur could have managed it! Byng-bahadur would have managed it, had I thought to advise him!"

He stood, looking over very gloomily at Cunningham, making a dozen wild plans for getting rid of Miss McClean--by no means forgetting poison--and the height of Alwa's aerie from the plain below! He would have been considerably calmer, could he have heard what Cunningham and Miss McClean were saying.

The missionary was with her now--ill and exhausted from the combined effects of excitement, horror, and the unaccustomed ride across the desert--most anxious for his daughter--worried, to the verge of desperation, by the ghastly news of the rebellion.

"Mr. Cunningham, I hope you are the forerunner of a British force?" he hazarded.

But Cunningham was too intent on cross-examination to waste time on giving any information.

"I want you to tell me, quite quietly and without hurry, all you can about Howrah," he said, sitting close to Miss McClean. "I want you to understand that I am the sole representative of my government in the whole district, and that whatever can be done depends very largely on what information I can get. I have been talking to the Alwa-sahib, but he seems too obsessed with his own predicament to be able to make things quite clear. Now, go ahead and tell me what you know about conditions in the city. Remember, you are under orders! Try and consider yourself a scout, reporting information to your officer. Tell me every single thing, however unimportant."

On the far side of the courtyard Alwa and Mahommed Gunga had gone to lean over the parapet and watch something that seemed to interest both of them intently. There were twenty or more men, lined round the ramparts on the lookout, and they all too seemed spellbound, but Cunningham was too engrossed in Miss McClean's story of the happenings in Howrah City to take notice. Now and then her father would help her out with an interjected comment; occasionally Cunningham would stop her with a question, or would ask her to repeat some item; but, for more than an hour she spun a clear-strung narrative that left very little to imagination and included practically all there was to know.

"Do you think," asked Cunningham "that this brute Jaimihr really wants to make you Maharanee?"

"I couldn't say," she shuddered. "You know, there have been several instances of European women having practically sold themselves to native princes; there have been stories--I have heard them--of English women marrying Rajahs, and regretting it. There is no reason why he should not be in earnest, and he certainly seemed to be."

"And this treasure? Of course, I have heard tales about it, but I thought they were just tales."

"That treasure is really there, and its amount must be fabulous. I have been told that there are jewels there which would bring a Rajah's ransom, and gold enough to offset the taxes of the whole of India for a year or two. I've no doubt the stories are exaggerated, but the treasure is real enough, and big enough to make the throne worth fighting for.

Jaimihr counts on being able to break the power of the priests and broach the treasure."

"And Jaimihr is--er--in love with you!"

"He tried very hard to prove it, in his own objectionable way!"

"And Jaimihr wants the throne--and Howrah wants to send a force against the British, but dare not move because of Jaimihr--I have Mahommed Gunga and five or six men to depend on--the Rangars are sitting on the fence--and the government has its hands full! The lookout's bright! I think I see the way through!"

"You are forgetting me." The missionary spread his broad stooped shoulders. "I am a missionary first, but next to that I have my country's cause more at heart than anything. I place myself under your orders, Mr. Cunningham."

"I too," said Miss McClean. She was looking at him keenly as he gazed away into nothing through slightly narrowed eyes. Vaguely, his att.i.tude reminded her of a picture she had once seen of the Duke of Wellington; there was the same mastery, the same far vision, the same poise of self-contained power. His nose was not like the Iron Duke's, for young Cunningham's had rather more tolerance in its outline and less of Roman overbearing; but the eyes, and the mouth, and the angle of the jaw were so like Wellesley's as to force a smile. "A woman isn't likely to be much use in a case like this--but, one never knows. My country comes first."

"Thanks," he answered quietly. And as he turned his head to flash one glance at each of them, she recognized what Mahommed Gunga had gloated over from the first--the grim decision, that will sacrifice all--take full responsibility--and use all means available for the one unflinching purpose of the game in hand. She knew that minute, and her father knew, that if she could be used--in any way at all--he would make use of her.

"Go ahead!" she nodded. "I'll obey!"

"And I will not prevent!" said Duncan McClean, smiling and straightening his spectacles.

Cunningham left them and walked over to the parapet, where the whole garrison was bending excitedly now above the battlement. There were more than forty men, most of them cl.u.s.tered near Alwa and Mahommed Gunga.

Mahommed Gunga was busy counting.

"Eight hundred!" he exclaimed, as Cunningham drew near.

"Eight hundred what, Mahommed Gunga? Come and see, sahib."

Cunningham leaned over, and beheld a mounted column, trailing along the desert road in wonderfully good formation.

"Where are they from?" he asked.

"Jaimihr's men, from Howrah!"

"That means," growled Alwa, "that the Hindoo pig Jaimihr has more than half the city at his back. He has left behind ten men for every one he brings with him--sufficient to hold Howrah in check. Otherwise he would never have dared come here. He hopes to settle his little private quarrel with me first, before dealing with his brother! Who told him, I wonder, that I was pledged to Howrah?"

"He reckons he has caught thee napping in this fort of thine!" laughed Mahommed Gunga. "He means to bottle up the Rangars' leader, and so checkmate all of them!"

The eight hundred hors.e.m.e.n on the plain below rode carelessly through Alwa's gardens, leaving trampled confusion in their wake, and lined up--with Jaimihr at their head--immediately before the great iron gate. A moment later four men rode closer and hammered on it with their lance-ends.

"Go down and speak to them!" commanded Alwa, and a man dropped down the zigzag roadway like a goat, taking short cuts from level to level, until he stood on a pinnacle of rock that overhung the gate. Ten minutes later he returned, breathing hard with the effort of his climb.

"Jaimihr demands the missionaries--particularly the Miss-sahib--also quarters and food!" he reported.

"Quarters and food he shall have!" swore Alwa, looking down at the Prince who sat his charger in the centre of the roadway. "Did he deign a threat?"

"He said that in fifteen minutes he will burst the gate in, unless he is first admitted!"

Duncan McClean walked over, limping painfully, and peered over the precipice.

"Unfriendly?" he asked, and Mahommed Gunga heard him.

"Thy friend Jaimihr, sahib! His teeth are all but visible from here!"

"And--?"

"He demands admittance--also thee and thy daughter!"

"And--?"