“Why?” he said coldly. “Have I not promised you enough?”
“Yes, more than enough,” I cried; and nerved myself with recollections of all my old teachings, and my duty as an officer and a gentleman. “It is not a question of rewards, but of honour. You ask me to train your men, who have risen up against their rulers, to fight against my people.”
“No,” he said; “your people are conquered. It is more to strengthen me against those who will be jealous of my power—to make me strong.”
“Oh, I could do that.”
“Then you accept?” he said eagerly.
“No; I could not, unless it was by the command of those whose commission I hold.”
“Wait. Think about it,” he said gravely, as he rose with an impatient gesture, and a heavy frown upon his brow.
But it passed off quickly, and he turned and offered me his hand.
“Good-bye,” he said quietly. “I am not angry; I like you the more. If you had said ‘yes’ quickly, and been dazzled by the thoughts of becoming a great officer, with show, and grand horses, and attendants, I should have shrunk within myself, and said, ‘You are wrong. He is only mean and vain like others. He is not worthy of your trust.’ I know now that you are worthy, and you must come to me and be more than friend—my brother and chief counsellor. For I mean to be great among my people here, and raise up a grand nation from those who have been trampled down so long. This is a mighty country, Vincent, and should be ruled over by one who can make himself great.”
He shook hands and left the shelter of the tree, while as he stepped out into the sunshine the man who had been holding his horse ran forward quickly as if he had been on the watch, and the rajah mounted and rode away, the trampling I heard directly after telling my educated ears that he must have a pretty good escort after all.