'Will his Excellency pardon me?' whined the wretched creature, who was faint with loss of blood; 'I am the instrument of others. For myself----' 'Do I want to hear about yourself, hound? You are a traitor. That is enough. What do the rascals yonder want?' 'They want the promise of your Highness to stop the troops marching from Meerut to-morrow.' 'And if I give this promise?' 'Your Excellency will be conducted back safely to his guard.' 'And if I do not, you will shoot me?' 'His Highness knows that there is no dependence to be placed upon these men. They might do worse.' 'Well said, Sufder Jung! You are an admirable spokesman,' said the General. 'And now listen to me! You deserve death, and it is in my heart to kill you as you stand there. But, as you are in some sort an envoy, I will let you live out the miserable remnant of your days. Vengeance will overtake you. Mark my words, and call them to mind when your hour comes! You and the miserable creatures who have sent you will suffer the penalty of your deeds. I suffer for having trusted you, for I can have little doubt now that, instead of saving my family----' 'No--no, by my master's head, by the beard of the Prophet!' cried Sufder Jung. 'What I have told my lord is true. We guarded his house, and it was only when we had put the women of his Honour's family in safety that we left the city.' 'If you speak truly, your folly is all the greater. I would have rewarded you. I would have treated you as friends. But that is over now. Go back and tell the rascals out yonder that I refuse their conditions. Yes,' said the General, 'and tell them further that I will hold no parley with rebels. Let them kill me if they can. I defy them!' The loyal twenty closed round him. It was time, for the ring of bullets began to echo through the woods. One or two were wounded. The General had them picked up by their comrades, as they moved back slowly with their faces to the foe. 'See what it is to be a traitor!' he said to the man nearest to him. 'The villains are shooting wild. If they had shot so under _me_, there are a few of them who wouldn't have survived to see this day. Come on, you hounds! Come on, if you dare!' The foremost of the dark mass, almost indistinguishable in the gloom of the evening, were so near that they could have touched him; but they did not. Muttering curses of baffled rage, they fell back confusedly, and their comrades received them with yells of derision. 'Seize him yourselves!' they said sullenly. 'The gods fight for him. He has a charmed life.'