"Your declamation was noble, Moro Trimmul," said the Shastree; "I had never heard the passages so spoken. Who taught you this style?" "That is the way our master likes them said. No one taught me," he replied; "and if you could hear the whole in one of his assemblies in the deep forest, you would feel that you were a Mahratta." "So I am--so I am," returned the Shastree quickly; "do you doubt it?" "Not your faith, Vyas Shastree," replied Moro Trimmul, "only your energy. But go; I will come early to-morrow;" and, turning away, he entered the vestibule and joined Maloosray and others who awaited him. Guards of men, he saw, had been placed at each of the porches, so that no one could enter but those privileged. A solitary lamp flickered on the altar where the image still rested, and cast a feeble and uncertain light into that portion of the vestibule which was immediately before it, and where Maloosray, Moro Trimmul, and the rest now seated themselves. Otherwise the spacious area was altogether in deep gloom, a portion only of its massive stone pillars catching rays of light, and seeming like giants standing around in solemn array. We need hardly, perhaps, follow Maloosray in his narrative, which was listened to with breathless interest by his hearers. He had never as yet come among them, but his name and feats were well known through many a rough ballad both of love and war. There he sat, face to face with them; his large soft eyes flashing with excitement, and adding force to the few but burning words he spoke. Tannajee was no novice in the art of reading men's hearts; and among the mountains and valleys where he lived, there were already thousands of the best youth of the country at his command. "Now," he said finally, "ye have heard all. We are before the Holy Mother, who comes to our Prince in his dreams, and tells him what to do; she who will scatter these impure cow-slaying Moslems like sheep before the wolf. O Holy Mother!" he continued, rising and bowing with joined hands in adoration to the image, "here are thy children; bless them, make them bold and true; they will swear not to hang back when 'the fire is on the hills,' and when they can strike for thy honour. Hear thou the oath, and accept it." As he paused and looked round there was at first a low murmur of acquiescence. Then they who had been sitting started to their feet, and as many as could reach it rushed to the threshold of the sanctum and touched it reverently:--those who could not, stretched out their arms towards it over each other's heads, while wild cries of "Jey Kalee!" "Jey Toolja Máta!" "Bome, Bome!" (We swear, we swear!) rang through the vestibule, and were taken up by those without. "Now, let us write the names," cried Maloosray, when the excitement had in some degree subsided; "sit down again, friends, and if there be a scribe among ye let him come forward."