"And how you would enjoy explaining to Miss Cinnamond the way in which you had eliminated your hated rival!" said Gerrard. "Well, why not? All the old fellows in the Ages of Chivalry, that she talks of, did that sort of thing all day long, so why should she blame in a poor beggar of a Bengali what she would pass over in a baron bold?" "Her age of chivalry is about as near the truth as the idyllic pictures of blameless Hindus that they hold up in Parliament, I fancy. Well, Bob, we can't say you haven't told me what to expect. If I do call upon you for help, you'll know it's a mere matter of form." "Of course. It's quite impossible that I should get to you in time, you realise that? But I'll tell you what I will do for you, with the greatest pleasure. When you are safely dead, I'll avenge you in style. The smoking ruins of Agpur shall be your funeral pyre, as the old fellow said to the Dey of Algiers." "Most consoling to me. Well, good-bye, Bob!" "Good-bye, Hal, and good luck to you!" and they rode upon their separate ways. For a time Gerrard's progress through Agpur territory was uneventful. It was not necessary to obtain provisions from Darwan, for they were forthcoming from the country traversed, though with accompaniments of vexatious delay and unfulfilled promises that showed the headmen had no fear of being taken to task for not making the traveller's way easy. The Granthi escort required ruling with a rod of iron, for they were prone, after their usual fashion, to prey upon the people, and it was no part of Colonel Antony's plan to provide Partab Singh with a colourable grievance. A few severe examples were necessary before the half-trained troopers realised that their new commander was in earnest, but when once the idea had been fixed in their minds that to seize the property of even the poorest cultivator without payment meant dismissal in disgrace, they began to take a pride in his very severity.