“And yet I do not feel secure, Jewan. We are not strong enough. But go now; I will confer with my officers. See me again. In the meantime stir up the people; let them go out in their thousands and harass the English.”
Jewan bowed, and had retired to the door when the Nana called him back.
“Stay, Jewan; a thought strikes me. Delhi is full of Sepoys.”
“It is, your Highness,” was the answer, as a new hope sprang to life in Jewan’s breast.
“Do you think the King would lend me aid?”
“I think it is to his interest to do so.”
“You are right. You shall go to Delhi, Jewan.”
Jewan’s heart beat wildly. He had longed to return to Delhi in the hope that he might again be able to secure Flora Meredith. Delhi was suggestive to him of luxury, of wealth, of idleness. He, in common with all his countrymen, turned his eyes to the Imperial City as the central pivot of the rebellion. Its strength was so enormous that it might defy the united power of England’s army. The desire to once more have Flora in his possession was so strong that he had often been strongly tempted to renounce allegiance to the Nana and fly to Delhi, but he had resisted the temptation, for he dreaded the power of Dundoo, whose confidential agent he had been, and he knew that if he incurred the displeasure of the revengeful Mahratta his life would never be safe from the Nana’s spies, who were everywhere. But now the very thing he had yearned for was likely to come to pass. From his knowledge of the King, he did not believe in his heart that the required aid would be given; but it was no business of his—at least, so he thought—to tell Nana Sahib this. Moreover, there was another reason which made him anxious to get away, and if his feelings had been truly analysed it might have been found that this reason was the stronger of the two—it was one of personal safety. He believed—though he did not from motives of policy express the belief—that the advancing English would soon cut their way into Cawnpore, and if that should be the case, and Nana’s power overthrown, his subjects would have to take care of themselves. There was an uneasy feeling in Jewan’s throat as he pictured himself swinging at the end of a rope from a banyan-tree.
“And what will be the purport of my errand, your Highness?” he asked, scarcely able to conceal his delight.