And yet there was much cause for uneasiness. Chunder Singh, indeed, who had visited England twice, the first time with Byrajee Pirtha Raj, his late master, and the second in obedience to his dying wish to further the interests of his successor, believed profoundly in the power of England; but he knew also how apt she is to try the effect of small measures, little outbursts which, to the uninitiated, seem nothing more than ebullitions of temper, before, armed with her full strength, she stands out wrathfully to assert her will. Such delay practised now would mean, if not the total subversion of the English power in India, at least the temporary ruin of those who had accepted her as the Paramount Power. It did not need the threatening letters which, in spite of all their efforts, were continually poured into Gumilcund to advertise them of what their fate would be if the English forces--coming down from the Punjaub and up from Calcutta and Bombay--met with any serious defeat. Chunder Singh and his friends knew very well what assault and sack meant when a baffled Asiatic army were inside the gates of a wealthy city. But with all this no thought of compromise ever entered their minds. To the terror-stricken people, merchants and handicraftsmen, who came flocking to them for advice they had always the same answer: 'We have gone too far to retreat now. If the worst comes to the worst we must defend our city to the last.' The inquiries about the rajah were more difficult to answer. His absence had considerably increased the alarm of the people. For the belief held by the men of education and culture in Gumilcund, as it filtered down to the lower strata of the populace, had lost its vagueness, and had gained in strength. The curiously dramatic entry of the young rajah into his city, and the effectiveness of his various appearances, gave colour to the general superstition. He seemed to many of them not a man at all, but a divine being whose presence was a guarantee of the city's continuance in safety and prosperity. That this God-given ruler should leave them at such a crisis as the present was inexplicable save in one way--that the spiritual beings, who were said to direct him, had warned him of the coming evil and helped him to escape--a theory confirmed by the circumstance that no one could tell them how their prince went. In spite of all Chunder Singh and Lutfullah and Vishnugupta could say, the hearts of the people were heavy within them, and their minds presaged evil. CHAPTER XXXIII CONTAINING EXTRACTS FROM THE RAJAH'S DIARY, WITH HOOSANEE'S RECOLLECTIONS