Very hot and uneasy did Owen feel when, dressed in his cavalry uniform, belted, and with his sabre on, he was ushered before the General. He was still a little hampered by the wound he had received in the affray with the pirates, while the slash he had received across his ankle in the affair of the fort, though a trifling affair, was sufficient to increase the limp. He drew himself up to attention and saluted stiffly, keeping his eyes steadily on the General. Then he dropped his hand, retaining his position at attention. The leader of the troops stood in front of his tent, with two other officers beside him, and for the space of a few seconds he returned the glance of this cavalry ensign, his sharp eyes seeming to pierce to the back of Owen's head. It was an ordeal at which many an old soldier would have flinched, and do what he would Owen could hardly contain himself. A moment later the tension was broken. "Mr. Jones, sir," said one of the officers. "You wished to see him." "Yes. How old are you, please?" Owen gave his age as correctly as was possible, considering the fact that the unusual circumstances surrounding his birth made a precise answer impossible. "Tell me about this fort. Who was with you?" "My servant, sir. A Mahratta." "How many helped in the defence?" One after another the General shot off his questions, demanding the size of the place, the number of the enemy, and the dispositions taken for defence. "If you had had twenty-five English troops to help you, how long could you have held out?" "I should have tried to beat them off altogether, sir," came the prompt reply. "If not, I should have contented myself with holding the place. There was food and water enough to last for a week at least." "You discovered that? When?" "Within a few minutes of entering the fort, sir." "And how would you have attempted to carry out the first part of the programme, Mr. Jones? Be precise, please. How would you have beaten them off?" "I should have held the walls till night came, sir," Owen answered without hesitation, "and then I should have made a sortie. Those roving bands consist of the roughest characters, and they seldom set a watch at night. Often enough they are almost overcome with the opium or bhang they have taken. I should have driven off their horses and attacked them in the early hours." "A bold programme," said the General, with a lift of his eyes. "Success would much depend upon your information. Is it a fact, for instance, that they take opium? How do you know it?" Owen at once told his questioner how Mulha had taught him all that seemed of interest with regard to the Mahrattas, and how in their daily discussions he had mentioned this fact. "Then you speak Mahratti? Sufficiently well to understand, or better?" This time the General looked at our hero with awakening interest, while he waited eagerly for his answer. "I can, I am told, speak like a native, sir," answered Owen modestly. "I can also speak Hindustani."