Not a man fell out, sahib.  But that was not enough for Ranjoor Singh.

“Those who intend to sign the paper,—­two paces forward,—­march!” said he.  And as one man we took two paces forward.

“So!” said he.  “Right turn!” And we turned to the right.  “Forward!  Quick march!” he ordered.  And he made us march twice in a square about him before he halted us again and turned us to the front to face him.  Then he was fussy about our alignment, making us take up our dressing half a dozen times; and when he had us to his satisfaction finally he stood eying us for several minutes before turning his back and striding with great dignity toward the gate.

He talked through the gate and very soon a dozen Germans entered, led by two officers in uniform and followed by three soldiers carrying a table and a chair.  The table was set down in their midst, facing us, and the senior German officer—­in a uniform with a very high collar—­handed a document to Ranjoor Singh.  When he had finished reading it to himself he stepped forward and read it aloud to us.  It was in Punjabi, excellently rendered, and the gist of it was like this: 

We, being weary of British misrule, British hypocrisy, and British arrogance, thereby renounced allegiance to Great Britain, its king and government, and begged earnestly to be permitted to fight on the side of the Central Empires in the cause of freedom.  It was expressly mentioned, I remember, that we made this petition of our own initiative and of our own free will, no pressure having been brought to bear on us, and nothing but kindness having been offered us since we were taken prisoners.

“That is what we are all required to sign,” said Ranjoor Singh, when he had finished reading, and he licked his lips in a manner I had never seen before.

Without any further speech to us, he sat down at the table and wrote his name with a great flourish on the paper, setting down his rank beside his name.  Then he called to me, and I sat and wrote my name below his, adding my rank also.  And Gooja Singh followed me.  After him, in single file, came every surviving man of Outram’s Own.  Some men scowled, and some men laughed harshly, and if one of our race had been watching on the German behalf he would have been able to tell them something.  But the Germans mistook the scowls for signs of anger at the British, and the laughter they mistook for rising spirits, so that the whole affair passed off without arousing their suspicion.

Nevertheless, my heart warned me that the Germans would not trust a regiment seduced as we were supposed to have been.  And, although Ranjoor Singh had had his way with us, the very having had destroyed the reawakening trust in him.  The troopers felt that he had led them through the gates of treason.  I could feel their thoughts as a man feels the breath of coming winter on his cheek.

When the last man had signed we stood at attention and a wagonload of rifles was brought in, drawn by oxen.  They gave a rifle to each of us, and we were made to present arms while the German military oath was read aloud.  After that the Germans walked away as if they had no further interest.  Only Ranjoor Singh remained, and he gave us no time just then for comment or discontent.