He had still an overpowering force at Trichinopoli, Law having nine hundred trained French soldiers, a park of fifty guns, two thousand Sepoys, and the army of Chunda Sahib, twenty thousand strong. Inside Trichinopoli were a few English soldiers under Captain Cope, and a small body of troops of Muhammud Ali; while outside the walls, between them and the besiegers, was the English force under Gingen, the men utterly dispirited, the officer without talent, resolution, or confidence. Before leaving the troops with which he had won the battle of Arni, Clive had expressed, to the two young writers, his high appreciation of their conduct during the siege of Arcot; and promised them that he would make it a personal request, to the authorities at Fort Saint David, that they might be permanently transferred from the civil to the military branch of the service; and such a request, made by him, was certain to be complied with. He strongly advised them to spend every available moment of their time in the study of the native language; as, without that, they would be useless if appointed to command a body of Sepoys. Delighted at the prospect, now open to them, of a permanent relief from the drudgery of a clerk's life in Madras, the young fellows were in the highest spirits; and Tim Kelly was scarcely less pleased, when he heard that Charlie was now likely to be always employed with him. The boys lost not a moment in sending down to Madras, to engage the services of a native "moonshee" or teacher. They wrote to their friend Johnson, asking him to arrange terms with the man who understood most English, and to engage him to remain with them some time. A few days later, Tim Kelly came in. "Plase, yer honors, there's a little shrivelled atomy of a man outside, as wants to spake wid ye. He looks for all the world like a monkey, wrapped up in white clothes, but he spakes English after a fashion, and has brought this letter for you. The cratur scarce looks like a human being, and I misdoubt me whether you had better let him in." "Nonsense, Tim," Charlie said, opening the letter; "it's the moonshee we are expecting, from Madras. He has come to teach us the native language." "Moonshine, is it! By jabers, and it's a mighty poor compliment to the moon to call him so. And is it the language you're going to larn now? Shure, Mr. Charles, I wouldn't demane myself by larning the lingo of these black hathens. Isn't for them to larn the English, and mighty pleased they ought to be, to get themselves to spake like Christians." "But who's going to teach them, Tim?" "Oh, they larn fast enough," said Tim. "You've only got to point to a bottle of water, or to the fire, or whatever else you want, and swear at them, and they understand directly. I've tried it myself, over and over again." "There, Tim, it's no use standing talking any longer. Bring in the moonshee."