I shook my head, but he smiled. “It is your fate,” he said. “Now come and see some of my men. They are drawn up outside. You shall see then what stuff there is for making good regiments when you begin.”
He glanced at my dress and saw that I noted it. “It does not matter,” he said; “you are my friend. They will not think of your dress. Englishmen are careless, and do not mind how they look. Come.”
I hesitated, but his will was stronger than mine, and I gave way, following him through the opening, and passing the twelve fierce-looking troopers who had formed the advance, and one of the men who was holding the beautiful Arab, which looked so perfect in its rich trappings that, lover of a horse as I was, I could not help going up to caress it, and pat its graceful arched neck, and pass my hand over its velvety nose.
“Mount,” said the rajah, who had followed me. “You will like his paces.”
“You wish it?” I said eagerly.
“And so do you,” he said, smiling. “Mount; and as a gentleman, I ask you to remember your honour to your host. You will not run away. It would be useless. You would surely be captured again.”
“I give you my word,” I said coldly.
“Then mount.”
I hesitated for a moment or two, and then mounted, for a thrill of delight to run through me as I felt the quivering muscles of the beautiful beast, and its eagerness to be off.
“Now try a short canter,” he said; and at a touch the graceful, thoroughly docile beast moved off, and my pulses began to bound as the wind played round my cheeks; for it was glorious. There was the open country before me, and I had but to slacken the rein, and the spirited Arab would have borne me off, far beyond pursuit; but I had given my word, and I turned just as we were increasing our speed, and I saw that the rajah was watching me intently.