The Rani waved her male servitor from the room.
"Speak, noble sir," she urged reassuringly. "The walls are deaf as well as dumb. Ah, Mahadeva! How anxiously we have awaited thy coming."
"Good news, My Lady Rani," he replied, in an undertone. "The torch has been ignited. To-morrow Dundhu Panth proclaims himself Peshwa, and Cawnpore will fall into his hands. Strike now, for if Jhansi is won, other states, that waver, will follow suit. Such is the Peshwa's command."
"Welcome, most welcome, noble Raja," she cried, in a transport of joyful emotion. She extended her hands in greeting. "Welcome to the palace of the no longer unfortunate Rani of Jhansi."
He took the jeweled fingers of one of her hands in his and bowing low placed them to his forehead. Then he drew himself up and gazed with sudden admiration at the superb form, the beautiful features of the high caste Princess.
In a moment he resumed the conversation, still in a tone of caution.
"Are all thy plans complete, fair Lady"?
"Aye, even over complete, I had feared," she answered. "The hidden guns in the fortress have been disinterred, my retainers armed, guards posted on the highways to prevent the escape of the Foreigners, when the signal is given. All people in Jhansi wait impatiently upon my word."
"It is well," he exclaimed, approvingly. "But how about the Mohammedans? Can they be depended upon"?
"Ahmad Khan moves them at the raising of his hand."