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Then at last "Yes!" said I, aloud. "Yes!" said a voice beside me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, "unless they suspect the track of our cart-wheels and follow it up, we are all right!" I looked round into the eyes of Ranjoor Singh, and felt my whole skin creep like a snake's at sloughing time! "Sahib!" said I.
I noticed that the German staff officer was watching all this from a little distance, and I think the sergeant caught his eye. At any rate, the sergeant made his man throw the baggage through our compartment door. The man returned to the other train. The sergeant climbed in next to me. Ranjoor Singh locked the door again, and both trains proceeded.
For with that act of treachery he drew back the veil from my blind eyes, and I saw that they were all as he bad, cruel, hypocrites " "Not all not all!" Nehal Singh interrupted. He stopped by the splashing fountain and gazed dreamily into the clear waters. His own face he saw there and another which was neither bad, cruel, nor hypocritical, but wholly beautiful. "Not all," he repeated.
It is good we have another to replace the fifth!" There goes the trooper, sahib he yonder with the limp. He and I are as good friends to-day as daffadar and trooper can be, but he would have slain me to save himself from vengeance unless Ranjoor Singh had punished him that night. But my tale is not of that trooper, nor of myself. I tell of Ranjoor Singh.
After much argument, Gooja Singh turned his back at last on the two-and-twenty and saluted Ranjoor Singh with great abasement. "Sahib," said he, "we have no wish to go one way and you another. We be of the regiment." "Ye have set yourselves up to be dictators. Ye have used wild words. Ye have tried to seduce the rest. Ye have my leave to go!" said Ranjoor Singh. "Nay!" said Gooja Singh.
It was Ranjoor Singh who drew my attention to the fact that regiments passing us in one direction would often pass us again on their way back, sometimes within the day. "As shuttles in a loom!" said he. "As long as they can do that they can fight on a dozen fronts." His words set me wondering so that I did not answer him.
"No true-born Rajputni ever names her lover or her husband." "But you knew that I know Prince Utirupa Singh. He came to my garden party!" "Nevertheless, no Rajputni names her lover to another man or woman calling him by his own name only in retirement, to his face." "Why he isn't he the one who Sir Roland Samson told me ought to have been maharajah instead of Gungadhura?"
He said he could wait. 'But when permission was granted, those two took four days' leave, the Chaplain went on. 'I do not think Attar Singh should have taken Baynes Sahib's revolver. He was Baynes Sahib's orderly, and all that Sahib's things were open to him. It was, therefore, as I count it, shame to Attar Singh, said the Subadar-Major. 'All the words had been said.
I must mention one other incident which occurred at the end of Fitzjames's stay in India. One Ram Singh was the spiritual and political chief of a sect called the Kookas. His disciples showed their zeal by murdering butchers as a protest against cow-killing.
Some information of his plans seems to have reached the ears of Akbar whilst he was paying his annual visit to Ajmere in 1576-7, and he despatched his most trusted general, also a Rájpút, the Mán Singh of Jaipur, whom we have seen fighting by his side in Gujarát, with five thousand horse, to beat him up. The two opposing forces met at Huldíghát, called also Gogandah, in December 1576.
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