“I have a suggestion to make, sahib,” smiled Alwa, closing the door of the rock-hewn chamber on the three of them.

“Hear mine first!” said Cunningham, with a hint of iron in his voice.

“Ay!  Hear his first!  Hear Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur!” echoed Mahommed Gunga.  “Let us hear a plan worth hearing!” And Alwa looked into a pair of steady eyes that seemed to see through him—­past him—­to the finished work beyond.

“Speak, sahib.”

“You are pledged to uphold Howrah on his throne?”

“Ha, sahib.”

“Then, I guarantee you shall!  You shall not go to the Company’s aid until you have satisfactory guarantees that your homes and friends will not be assailed behind your backs.”

“Guarantees to whose satisfaction, sahib?”

“Yours!”

“But with whom am I dealing?” Alwa seemed actually staggered.  “Who makes these promises?  The Company?”

“I give you my solemn word of honor on it!”

“It is at least a man who speaks!” swore Alwa.

“It is the son of Cunnigan-bahadur!” growled Mahommed Gunga, standing chin erect.  He seemed in no doubt now of the outcome.  He was merely waiting for it with soldierly and ill-concealed impatience.

“But, sahib—­”

“Alwa-sahib, we have no time for argument.  It is yes or no.  I must send an answer back by that Sikh.  He must—­he shall take my answer!  Either you are loyal to our cause or you are not.  Are you?”

“By the breath of God, sahib, I am thinking you leave me little choice!”

“I still await an answer.  I am calling on you for as many men as you can raise, and I have made you specific promises.  Choose, Alwa-sahib.  Yes or no?”

“The answer is yes—­but—­”

“Then I understand that you undertake to obey my orders without question until such time as a senior to me can be found to take over the command.”

“That is contingent on the agreement,” hesitated Alwa.

“I would like your word of honor, Alwa-sahib.”

“I pledge that not lightly, sahib.”

“For that very good reason I am asking for it.  I shall know how far to trust when I have your word of honor!”

“I knew thy father!  Thou art his son!  I trusted him for good reason and with good result.  I will trust thee also.  My word is given, on thy conditions, sahib.  First, the guarantees before we ride to the British aid!”

And you obey my orders?

“Yes.  My word is given, sahib.  The oath of a Rajput, of a Rangar, of a soldier, of a zemindar of the House of Kachwaha; the oath of a man to a man, sahib; the promise of thy father’s friend to thy father’s son!  Bahadur”—­he drew himself to his full height, and clicked his spurs together—­“I am thy servant!”

Cunningham saluted.  All three men looked in each other’s eyes and a bond was sealed between them that nothing less than death could sever.