“Thank you,” said Cunningham quite quietly.  “And now, Alwa-sahib”—­ (he could strike while the iron glowed, could this son of Cunnigan!)—­ “for the plan.  There is little time.  Jaimihr must escape tonight!”

“Sahib, did I understand aright?”

Alwa’s jaw had actually dropped.  He looked as though he had been struck.  Mahommed Gunga slammed his sabre ferule on the stone floor.  He too, was hard put to it to believe his ears.

“Jaimihr is the key to the position.  He is nothing but a nuisance where he is.  Outside he can be made to help us.”

“Am I dreaming, or art thou, sahib?” Alwa stood with fists clinched on his hips and his legs apart—­incredulous.  “Jaimihr to go free?  Why that Hindoo pig is the source of all the trouble in the district!”

“We are neither of us dreaming, Alwa-sahib.  Jaimihr is the dreamer.  Let him dream in Howrah City for a day or two, while we get ready.  Let him lead his men away and leave the road clear for us to pass in and out.”

“But—­”

“Oh, I know.  He is your prisoner, and your honor is involved, and all that kind of thing.  I’m offering you, to set off against that, a much greater honor than you ever experienced in your whole life yet, and I’ve put my order in the shape of a request for the sake of courtesy.  I ask you again to let me arrange for Jaimihr to escape.”

“I was mad.  But it seems that I have passed my word!” swore Alwa.

“I give you your word back again, then.”

“Bismillah!  I refuse it!”

“Then I do with Jaimihr as I like?”

“I gave my word, sahib.”

“Thanks.  You’ll be glad before we’ve finished.  Now I’ve left the raising of as many men as can be raised to you, Alwa-sahib.  You will remember that you gave your promise on that count, too.”

“I will keep that promise, too, sahib.”

“Good.  You shall have a road clear by tonight.”

He stepped back a pace, awaited their salute with the calm, assured authority of a general of division, returned it, and left the two Rajputs looking in each other’s eyes.

“What is this, cousin, that thou hast brought me to?” demanded Alwa.

Mahommed Gunga laughed and shook his sabre, letting it rattle in its scabbard.

“This?  This is the edge of the war that I promised thee a year ago!  This is the service of which I spoke!  This is the beginning of the blood-spilling!  I have brought thee the leader of whom we spoke in Howrah City.  Dost remember, cousin?  I recall thy words!”

“Ay, I recall them.  I said then that I would follow a second Cunnigan, could such be found.”

“And this is he!” vowed Mahommed Gunga.

“Ho!  But we Rangars have a leader!  A man of men!”

“But this plan of his?  This loosing of the trapped wolf—­what of that?”

“I neither know nor care, as yet!  I trust him!  I am his man, as I was his father’s!  I have seen him; I have heard him; I have felt his pulse in the welter of the wrath of God.  I know him.  Whatever plans he makes, whatever way he leads, those are my plans, my road!  I serve the son of Cunnigan!”