“No, sir; please don’t,” said Wyatt bluntly. “Don’t be offended at what I say, but I don’t feel that we should be so safe here with your guards about us as we should be trusting to our own men.”
The Rajah frowned angrily, but his brow cleared a few minutes later.
“You are right,” he said. “I cannot trust my own guards. I only hope for better things.”
“Would it not be better to begin quite afresh, sir?” said Hulton. “A bold stroke would relieve you of many doubtful friends, and we would support you to the death if trouble arose.”
“I thank you, Mr Hulton,” said the Rajah sadly, “and I feel that you are right, but I cannot take such a step as you propose. It would mean death and destruction, and fighting against one whom I feel bound to look up to with respect. No; this is a revolution that must come slowly. I can only fight to the death against Rajah Singh. I must fight against my mother and her friends by word of mouth. I must leave you now. All this troubles me, but I will be firm as far as I can;” and he bowed and moved towards the door.
“I wish Rajah Singh would attack again, and make short work of some of the Rajah’s internal enemies,” said Wyatt after the visitor had gone. “He is an open enemy, and we know what to do.”
“Yes,” said Hulton; “and we are surrounded by secret, ones, and do not know what to do.”
“Not yet,” said Wyatt, “but we mean to do one thing—eh, Darrell!”
“What?” said Dick, looking at the speaker inquiringly.
“Win,” said Wyatt shortly. “But come up again with me, Dick. I want to see if I can find that secret way.”