They thought on that for a while, and then surrounded me again, Gooja Singh being spokesman for them all.  “Then you counsel us,” said he, “to choose the hard labor in the coal mines?”

“Nay,” said I.  “I counsel nothing.”

“But what other course is there?” said he.

“There is Ranjoor Singh,” said I.

“But he desired to lead us against the British,” said he.

“Nay,” said I.  “Who said so?”

Gooja Singh answered:  “He, Ranjoor Singh himself, said so.”

“Nay,” said I.  “I heard what he said.  He said he will lead us, but he said nothing of his plan.  He did not say he will lead us against the British.”

“Then it was the Germans.  They said so,” said Gooja Singh.  “They said he will lead us against the British.”

“The Germans said,” said I, “that their armies are outside Paris—­ that India is in rebellion—­that Pertab Singh was hanged in Delhi—­ that the British rule in India has been altogether selfish—­that our wives and children have been butchered by the British in cold blood.  The Germans,” said I, “have told us very many things.”

“Then,” said he, “you counsel us to follow Ranjoor Singh?”

“Nay,” said I.  “I counsel nothing.”

“You are a coward!” said he.  “You are afraid to give opinion!”

“I am one among many!” I answered him.

They left me alone again and talked in groups, Gooja Singh passing from one group to another like a man collecting tickets.  Then, when it was growing dusk, they gathered once more about me and Gooja Singh went through the play of letting them persuade him to be spokesman.

“If we decide to follow Ranjoor Singh,” said he, “will you be one with us?”

“If that is the decision of you all,” I answered, “then yes.  But if it is Gooja Singh’s decision with the rest consenting, then no.  Is that the decision of you all?” I asked, and they murmured a sort of answer.

“Nay!” said I.  “That will not do!  Either yes or no.  Either ye are willing or ye are unwilling.  Let him who is unwilling say so, and I for one will hold no judgment against him.”

None answered, though I urged again and again.  “Then ye are all willing to give Ranjoor Singh a trial?” said I; and this time they all answered in the affirmative.

“I think your decision well arrived at!” I made bold to tell them.  “To me it seems you have all seen wisdom, and although I had thoughts in mind,” said I, “of accepting work in the collieries and blowing up a mine perhaps, yet I admit your plan is better and I defer to it.”

They were much more pleased with that speech than if I had admitted the truth, that I would never have agreed to any other plan.  So that now they were much more ready than they might have been to listen to my next suggestion.

“But,” said I, with an air of caution, “shall we not keep any watch on Ranjoor Singh?”