“Let us watch!” said they.  “Let us be forehanded!”

“But how?” said I.  “He is an officer.  He is not bound to lay bare his thoughts to us.”

They thought a long time about that.  It grew dark, and we were ordered to our huts, and lights were put out, and still they lay awake and talked of it.  At last Gooja Singh flitted through the dark and came to me and asked me my opinion on the matter.

“One of you go and offer to be his servant,” said I.  “Let that servant serve him well.  A good servant should know more about his master than the master himself.”

“Who shall that one be?” he asked; and he went back to tell the men what I had said.

After midnight he returned.  “They say you are the one to keep watch on him,” said he.

“Nay, nay!” said I, with my heart leaping against my ribs, but my voice belying it.  “If I agree to that, then later you will swear I am his friend and condemn me in one judgment with him!”

“Nay,” said he.  “Nay truly!  On the honor of a Sikh!”

“Mine is also the honor of a Sikh,” said I, “and I will cover it with care.  Go back to them,” I directed, “and let them all come and speak with me at dawn.”

“Is my word not enough?” said he.

“Was Ranjoor Singh’s enough?” said I, and he went, muttering to himself.

I slept until dawn—­the first night I had slept in three—­and before breakfast they all clustered about me, urging me to be the one to keep close watch on Ranjoor Singh.

“God forbid that I should be stool pigeon!” said I.  “Nay, God forbid!  Ranjoor Singh need but give an order that ye have no liking for and ye will shoot me in the back for it!”

They were very earnest in their protestations, urging me more and more; but the more they urged the more I hung back, and we ate before I gave them any answer.  “This is a plot,” said I, “to get me in trouble.  What did I ever do that ye should combine against me?”

“Nay!” said they.  “By our Sikh oath, we be true men and your friends.  Why do you doubt us?”

Then said I at last, as it were reluctantly, “If ye demand it—­if ye insist—­I will be the go-between.  Yet I do it because ye compel me by weight of unanimity!” said I.

“It is your place!” said they, but I shook my head, and to this day I have never admitted to them that I undertook the work willingly.

Presently came the Germans to us again, this time accompanied by officers in uniform who stood apart and watched with an air of passing judgment.  They asked us now point-blank whether or not we were willing to work in the coal mines and thus make some return for the cost of keeping us; and we answered with one voice that we were not coal-miners and therefore not willing.

“The alternative,” said they, “is that you apply to fight on the side of the Central Empires.  Men must all either fight or work in these days; there is no room for idlers.”