"Nay, but they conquered for their masters. This man who resists his masters must surely have some advantage for himself in view?" "Sahib!" It was the little boy who spoke eagerly before Gerrard could answer; "who are these men with guns and swords, and why do they come before the tent?" Gerrard cast a careless glance at his twelve troopers, noticing that the old Sirdar did not move a muscle. "They are to protect my guests, little prince," he answered. "But why are their guns pointed this way?" "That my guests may see them, and know themselves safe." "Your guests are much indebted to your thoughtfulness, sahib," said the old man, with something of mockery in his tone. Gerrard would have given much to know what was passing behind those inscrutable eyes. Was that long curved dagger, with the handle of which the Sirdar's fingers were continually playing, destined to be sheathed in his heart at the moment that an attack was made upon the camp from without? It almost looked like it, and yet why had the old man given such a hostage to fortune as the child he had brought with him? To prevent a flagging in the conversation, which might have been attributed to nervousness, Gerrard brought out his sketch-book, and requested the honour of taking the portraits of Sirdar Hari Ram and his grandson. The request was granted, but before the water for which he called had been brought Moraes appeared again. "Ze strange officer desire to see you, sar. He say he Rajah Partab Singh's _Komadan_." [1] "Tell him to send a message, since I am engaged with guests." "He say you must give up zose persons, sar. Old man and leetle boy, he come to look for zem." "Then tell him to come and take them. And you can promise him in my name a pretty tough job if he does." He turned from Moraes with noble disdain, and bestowed a reassuring smile upon his guests. "Sahib," said the old man, "the wise lingers not where his presence is an inconvenience. The youth who has just left us appeared to desire our departure." "His desires are of no moment, Sirdar Sahib, even were he so unmannerly as to express them." "But it is the part of a churl to bring danger upon a host, sahib, and I have many enemies. Is it possible that there are those without who demand that I should be yielded up to them?" "Since you ask, it is so, but you need have no fear that I shall comply," said Gerrard, more puzzled than ever. "Nay, sahib, but I myself will depart with the child, so that neither your honour nor your safety will be menaced." "You will do nothing of the kind, Sirdar Sahib. What! shall I suffer a guest to step from my very carpet into the hands of his foes? You would cover me with disgrace from the mountains to the sea." "I will not bring trouble upon you, sahib. Suffer us to go." "Certainly not. I will rather use violence to keep you. A word to these men of mine----"