"Act quickly," advised Ahmed; "one way or the other. Umballa will throw his men round the whole city and there will not be a space large enough for a rat to crawl through. And he will fight like a rat this time; mark me."
Ramabai paused suddenly in front of his wife and smiled down at her.
"Pundita, you are my legal queen. It is for you to say what shall be done. I had in mind a republic."
Lal Singh cackled ironically.
"Do not dream," said Ahmed. "Common sense should tell you that there can be no republic in Allaha. There must be an absolute ruler, nothing less. Your Majesty, speak," he added, salaaming before Pundita.
She looked wildly about the room, vainly striving to read the faces of her white friends; but their expressions were like stone images. No help there, no guidance.
"Is the life of a decrepit old man," asked Lal Singh, "worth the lives of these white people who love and respect you?"
Pundita rose and placed her hands upon her husband's shoulders.
"We owe them our lives. Strike, Ramabai; but only if our need demands it."
"Good!" said Lal Singh. "I'm off for the bazaars for the night. I will buy chupatties and pass them about, as they did in my father's time at Delhi, in the Great Mutiny."