‘Shabash! Shabash! well done, gallant fellow!’ cried many English officers, surrounding a richly-dressed native, apparently of rank, who, clad in a magnificent suit of chain-armour over a cloth-of-gold vest, with a bright steel cap on his head, and upon a noble chesnut horse, now rode up at full gallop, accompanied by many of his risala, as martial in appearance as himself, and equally well mounted. Their swords were red with blood, and their faces flushed and excited with conquest. ‘Well done! well done! ye have earned the good-will of the General, and ye will be rewarded.’
‘I thank you,’ he said; ‘you are kind, and flatter our poor services; but can you tell me where Colonel Dalton is?’
‘He is yonder,’ said an officer; ‘come, I will lead you to him.’
The action was now over. Philip had borne an honourable part, and was attending to his wounded men when Kasim rode up to him.
‘Behold!’ he said, showing his sword, ‘I have fulfilled my promise; I am faithful to the salt I eat; thou wilt testify to that?’
‘Noble fellow! I will indeed; thou hast distinguished thyself before the army. Come, I will lead thee to the General,—he will love to look on one so brave and devoted.’
‘They were my old companions,’ said Kasim, ‘but I knew them not; my heart was steeled against them; had I wavered, I was disgraced for ever. Ye suspected me, but now I am free of taint.’
‘Thou art indeed, and thou wilt see how grateful an English commander can be. Come!’
That night Kasim, Philip Dalton, and many others were in the General’s tent; they had been asking him about the road. He seemed to think a while.
‘Will ye take my advice?’ he asked, ‘the advice of one who is not worthy to give it?’