"Why do you wish to have these troops?" I said, more for the sake of keeping back my reply than for anything else. "Why? To make me strong," he cried excitedly. "With men like that, and the quick-firing guns, I shall be more powerful than any of the rajahs near. But you hesitate; you do not say yes." I looked at him sadly. "Come," he continued, "at your age there should not be any hanging back. Have you thought what it means?" "You have taken me so by surprise," I replied. "Oh yes; but can you not see that I make you at once a great man? one whom I trust in everything, and who will be next in my country to myself? Come, speak. You will accept?" His eyes were fixed upon me searchingly, and I felt that I must speak now, though I trembled for the effect my words would have upon such a determined, relentless man, accustomed to have his will in all things. "There are plenty of men more suited to the task than I am," I said with a last attempt to put off the final words. "Where?" he said, coldly. "Bring me a thousand older and more experienced than you, and I should refuse them all." "Why?" "Because I like and trust you, and know that you would be faithful." "Then," I cried, snatching at the chance of escape, "if you knew I should be faithful, why did you propose such a thing?" "I do not understand you," he said coldly. "I am one of the Company's officers, sworn to be true to my duties. How can I break my oath? I should be a traitor, and worthy of death." "You have been faithful," he said quietly. "I knew you would say that. But the tie is broken now." "No; not while I am in their service." "You are no longer in their service," he said, watching me intently the while. "The great Company is dead; its troops are defeated, scattered, and in a short time there will hardly be a white man left in the land over which they have tyrannised so long." I sank back staring at him wildly, for his words carried conviction, and setting aside the horrors that such a state of affairs suggested, and the terrible degradation for England, I began thinking of myself cut off from all I knew, separated from my people, perhaps for ever, asked to identify myself with the enemies of my country--become, in short, a renegade. "It sounds terrible to you," he said gravely; "but you must accept it, and be content. It is your fate." "No," I cried passionately, "it is impossible. I cannot." "Why?" he said coldly. "Have I not promised you enough?" "Yes, more than enough," I cried; and nerved myself with recollections of all my old teachings, and my duty as an officer and a gentleman. "It is not a question of rewards, but of honour. You ask me to train your men, who have risen up against their rulers, to fight against my people." "No," he said; "your people are conquered. It is more to strengthen me against those who will be jealous of my power--to make me strong." "Oh, I could do that." "Then you accept?" he said eagerly.