“Suit yourself,” said Will, and the rest of us nodded.

“We are traveling into the interior,” said Monty, “in the rather doubtful hope that our absence from a coast city may in some way help Armenians, Rustum Khan.”

The Rajput jumped to his feet that instant, and came to the salute.

“I might have known as much.  Colonel Lord Montdidier sahib, I offer fealty!  My blood be thine to spill in thy cause!  Thy life on my head—­thine honor on my life—­thy way my way, and God be my witness!”

“Don’t be rash, Rustum Khan.  Our likeliest fate is to be taken prisoner by men of your religion, who will call you a renegade if you defend Armenians.  And what are Armenians to you?”

“Ah, sahib!  You drive a sharp spur into an open sore!  I have seen too much of ill-faith—­cruelty—­robbery—­torture—­rapine—­butchery, all in the name of God!  It is this last threat to the Armenians that is the final straw!  I took the pilgrimage in search of grace.  The nearer I came to the place they tell me is on earth the home of grace, the more unfaith I see!  Three nights ago in another place I was led aside and offered the third of the wealth of a fat Armenian if I would lend my sword to slit helpless throats—­in the name of God, the compassionate, be merciful!  My temper was about spoilt forever when that young idiot over the way described me in his book as—­never mind how he described me—­he paid the price!  Sahib bahadur, I take my stand with the defenseless, where I know thou and thy friends will surely be!  I am thy man!”

“It is not included in our plans to fight,” said Monty.

“Sahib, there is always work for real soldiers!”

“What do you fellows say?  Shall we let him come with us?”

“I travel at my own charges, sahib.  I am well mounted and well armed.”

“Sure, let him come with us!” said Will.  “I like the man.”

“He has my leave to come along to England afterward,” said Fred, “if he’ll guarantee to address me as the ‘gift of God’ in public!”

I left them talking and returned to see whether the “martyred biped Measel” needed further help.  He was asleep, and as I listened to his breathing I heard voices in the next room.  The German was talking in English, that being often the only tongue that ten men have in common.  Through the partly opened door I could see that his room was crammed with men.

“They are spies, every one of them!” I heard him say.  “The man I thrashed is of their party.  You yourselves saw how they came to his rescue, and seduced the Indian by means of threats.  This is the way of the English. ("Curse them!” said a voice.) They write notes in a book, and when that offense is detected they burn the book in a corner, as ye saw them do.  I saw the book before they burned it.  I thrashed the spy who wrote in the book because he had written in it reports on what it is proposed to do to infidels at the time ye know about.  I tell you those men are all spies—­one is as bad as the other.  They work on behalf of Armenians, to bring about interference from abroad.”