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Updated: May 6, 2025
Make good your escape, for I swear that after midnight I shall lead my people against their enemies, and he who falls into their hands need not hope for mercy." "And I also swear an oath, Rajah Nehal Singh! Not one of us will leave Marut. The men will remain at their posts, and the women will stand by them." "You are throwing away your lives." "They will not be thrown away.
"Our next meeting? I trust, then, Rajah Sahib that you will condescend to be the guest of the English Station?" Nehal turned his head to hide the flash of boyish satisfaction which shone out of his eyes. It was that he wanted to go among this people, from their own hearth to judge them, and to probe down into the source of their greatness. "It would give me much pleasure," he answered quietly.
"Hail, Rajah Sahib!" he said in Hindustani. "Hail!" His voice had echoed into silence before Nehal Singh moved. Then he lifted his hand in greeting. "Hail, Englishman!" "You know me," Nicholson went on, drawing nearer. "I am Nicholson, Captain Nicholson of the Gurkhas." "I do not know you." There was a pitiless finality in the few words and in the gesture which accompanied them.
They were passing the site of the old Bazaar, now a black, scarred waste of machinery and disembowelled earth over which brooded a death-like quiet. Nicholson remembered vividly the day he had ridden there at Nehal Singh's side.
Nehal Singh pulled aside the curtains over the window and stepped out on to the balcony. The air in the great silent room behind him stifled him, and even the night breeze, as it touched his cheeks, seemed to burn with fever. He stood there motionless, his arms folded, gazing fixedly into the half-darkness.
Stafford bowed ceremoniously, making way for Nehal Singh. As he did so, he saw Lois enter the hall at Mrs. Carmichael's side. The two women bowed to him, the elder in a way which he had learned to understand. He drew aside out of their path, avoiding the genuine kindness which Lois' eyes expressed for him. "Pray God you believe the worst of me!" was the thought that flashed through his mind.
"It is only necessary to go outside your gates to find a hundred outlets for energy and purpose. If you traveled two days among your people, you would come back knowing very well what awaited your power to accomplish." "I am glad to hear you say so," Nehal returned, smiling, "for I am ambitious." "Ambition and power!" exclaimed Travers. "You are indeed to be envied, Rajah Sahib!"
"You are choosing to have a very short memory. Nehal Singh is more than that." Travers stood upright. The healthy glow had died out of his cheeks. "Look here, Stafford," he said roughly, "what is it you want? I can see you want something." "Yes. Give me back my promise. I can not keep it any longer." "Do you think I extort promises that I don't want kept? Are you in earnest?"
It was a strange and beautiful scene, such as few of them had ever seen. Fairy palaces of fire seemed to hover miraculously in the evening air, and over everything hung the curious, indefinable charm of the mysterious East. Nehal Singh turned and found Lois Caruthers standing with Stafford a little behind him.
Nicholson lifted his head to the light. "Nehal Singh, you lie. I was and am your friend." He heard a stir behind him, and his instinct, doubly sharpened, felt how a dozen hands had flown to their weapons. Then again there was silence. His eyes had not flinched in their challenge. "I have no friends among traitors and cowards." The insult left Nicholson calm.
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