“To whom, sahib?  To you or to the Company?”

“To the Company, of course.”

“Nay!  Not I!  For the son of Cunnigan-bahadur I would slit the throats of half Asia, and then of nine-tenths of the other half!  But by the breath of God—­by my spurs and this sabre here—­I have had enough of pledging!  I swore allegiance to Howrah.  Being nearly free of that pledge by Allah’s sending, shall I plunge into another, like a frightened bird fluttering from snare to snare?  Nay, nay, bahadur!  For thyself, for thy father’s sake, ask any favor.  It is granted.  But thy Company may stew in the grease of its own cartridges for ought I care!”

Cunningham stood up and bowed very slightly—­very stiffly—­very punctiliously.  Mahommed Gunga leaped to his feet, and came to attention with a military clatter.  Alwa stared, inclining his head a trifle in recognition of the bow, but evidently taken by surprise.

“Then, good-by, Alwa-sahib.”

Cunningham stretched out a hand.

“I am much obliged to you for your hospitality, and regret exceedingly that I cannot avail myself of it further, either for myself or for Mahommed Gunga or for Mr. and Miss McClean.  As the Company’s representative, they, of course, look to me for orders and protection, and I shall take them away at once.  As things are, we can only be a source of embarrassment to you.”

“But—­sahib—­huzoor—­it is impossible.  You have seen the cavalry below.  How can you—­how could you get away?”

“Unless I am your prisoner I shall certainly leave this place at once.  The only other condition on which I will stay here is that you pledge your allegiance to the Company and take my orders.”

“Sahib, this is—­why—­huzoor—­”

Alwa looked over to Mahommed Gunga and raised his eyebrows eloquently.

“I obey him!  I go with him!” growled Mahommed Gunga.

“Sahib, I would like time to think this over.”

“How much time?  I thought you quick-witted when you made Jaimihr prisoner.  Has that small success undermined your power of decision?  I know my mind.  Mahommed Gunga knows his, Alwa-sahib.”

“I ask an hour.  There are many points I must consider.  There is the prisoner for one thing.”

“You can hand him over to the custody of the first British column we can get in touch with, Alwa-sahib.  That will relieve you of further responsibility to Howrah and will insure a fair trial of any issue there may be between yourself and Jaimihr.”

Alwa scowled.  No Rajput likes the thought of litigation where affairs of honor are concerned.  He felt he would prefer to keep Jaimihr prisoner for the present.

“Also, sahib”—­fresh facets of the situation kept appearing to him as he sparred for time—­“with Jaimihr in a cage I can drive a bargain with his brother.  While I keep him in the cage, Howrah must respect my wishes for fear lest otherwise I loose Jaimihr to be a thorn in his side anew.  If I hand him to the British, Howrah will know that he is safe and altogether out of harm’s way; then he will recall what he may choose to consider insolence of mine; and then—­”