But there was one other matter, after all, that needed attention first.

“That horse of mine that brought me hither”—­the Risaldar picked out the man who waited with the gong cord in his hand—­“is left in thy particular charge.  Dost thou hear me?  I will tell the Alwa-sahib what I now tell thee—­that horse will be required of thee fit, good-tempered, light-mouthed, not spur-marked, and thoroughly well groomed.  There will be a reward in the one case, but in the other—­I would not stand in thy shoes!  It is a trust!”

“Come along, Risaldar!” called Cunningham.  “We’re wasting an awful lot of time!”

“Nay, sahib, but a good horse is like a woman, to be loved and treated faithfully!  Neither horse nor woman should be sacrificed for less than duty!  Lead on, bahadur—­I will join thee at the gate.”

He had several directions to give for the horse’s better care, and Cunningham was forced to wait at least five minutes for him at the foot of the steep descent.  Then for another minute the two sat their horses side by side, while the great gate rose slowly, grudgingly, cranked upward by four men.

“If we two ever ride under here again, bahadur, we shall ride with honor thick on us,” remarked Mahommed Gunga.  “God knows what thy plan may be; but I know that from now on there will be no peace for either of us until we have helped rip it with our blades from the very belly of rebellion.  Ride!”

The gate clanged down behind them as—­untouched by heel or spur—­ the two spring-limbed chargers raced for their bits across the sand.  They went like shadows, casting other shadows—­moon-made—­ wind-driven—­knee-to-knee.

“Now, sahib!”

The Risaldar broke silence after fifteen minutes.  Neither he nor Cunningham were of the type that chatters when the time has come to loosen sabres and sit tight.

“In the matter of what lies ahead—­as I said, neither I nor any man knows what this plan of thine may be, but I and the others have accepted thy bare word.  These men who await thee—­and they are many, and all soldiers, good, seasoned horsemen—­have been told that the son of Cunnigan will lead them.  Alwa has given his word, and I mine, that in the matter of a leader there is nothing left to be desired.  And my five men have told them of certain happenings that they have seen.  Therefore, thou art awaited with no little keenness.  They will be all eyes and ears.  It might be well, then, to set the pace a little slower, for a man looks better on a fresh horse than on a weary one!”

“I’m thinking, Mahommed Gunga, of the two McCleans and of General Byng, who is expecting us.  There is little time to lose.”

“I, too, consider them, sahib.  It is we Rangars who must do the sabre work.  All, sahib—­all—­depends now on the impression created on the men awaiting thee!  Rein in a little.  Thy father’s name, thine own, and mine and Alwa’s weigh for much on thy side; but have a sound horse between thy legs and a trumpet in thy throat when we get there!  I have seen more than one officer have to fight up-hill for the hearts of his troopers because his tired horse stumbled or looked shabby on the first parade.  Draw rein a little, sahib.”