“Yes, that is about it,” replied Agar. He was too simple, too innately upright and honest to perceive the infinite possibilities opened up by the fact upon which General Michael had pounced. “In case you decide to accept my offer,” the older man went on, “you would wish your stepmother and step-brother to be told?” “Yes, and one other person.” “Ah, and another person. You could not limit it to two?” urged the General. “No!” replied Agar with a decision which the other was wise enough to consider final. Moreover, the General omitted to ask the name of this third person, urged thereto by one of those strokes of instinct which indicate the genius of the commander of men. General Michael, moreover, deemed it prudent to carry the matter no further at that moment. He rose from his seat on the bed, stretched his lithe limbs, and said: “Well, this won't do! We must get to work. I propose retreating to-morrow morning at daylight.” They passed out of the tent together and proceeded to give their orders, moving in and out among the busy men. There was a subtle difference in their reception which was perhaps patent to both, though neither deemed it necessary to make any comment. Wherever Agar went the eager little black faces of his Goorkhas met him with a smile or a grin of delight; when General Michael passed by, the dusky features hardened suddenly to a marble stillness, and the beady eyes were all soldier-like attention. They feared and loved the one because they felt that there was something in him which they could not understand; they feared and hated the other because his nature was nearer to their own, and they defined the evil in it. Moreover, each had his reputation--that of General Michael dating from the Mutiny; the other, a younger and a cleaner record. It is considered the proper thing to talk in England of the unvoiced millions of India. No greater mistake could be made. These millions have a voice, but it does not reach to us because they do not raise it. They talk with it among themselves. They had talked of General Michael for thirty years, and all that there was in him had been discussed to its very dregs. Thus their impenetrable faces hardened when he passed, their shadowy secretive eyes looked beyond him with a vacancy which was not the vacancy of dulness. CHAPTER X A LAST THROW Get place and wealth; if possible, with grace; If not, by any means get wealth and place. Daylight broke next morning in a snow-storm, and a thin sprinkling lay over all the hills, clothing them in spotless white. General Michael was among the first astir, seeing in person to all the details of the retreat. The men looked in vain towards the tent where their late youthful leader had been wont to sit, nibbling the end of his golden pocket-penholder, wrestling manfully in the throes of literary composition. When at last the order was given to strike tents the faces of the rank and file fell like the face of one man.