“I have not yet said so.” There was a little, barely accentuated emphasis on the one word “yet.” The Maharajah thought a minute before he answered.
“How many mounted troopers could you raise?”
“Who knows? A thousand—three thousand—according to the soreness of the need.”
“You have heard—I know that you have heard—what, even at this minute, awaits the British? I know, for I have taken care to know, that a cousin of yours—Mahommed Gunga—is interested for the British. So—so I am interested to have word with you.”
Alwa laughed ironically.
“And the tiger asked the wolf pack where good hunting was!” he mocked. “I and my men strike which way suits us when the hour comes.”
“My palace has many chambers in it!” hinted Howrah. “There have been men who wondered what the light of day was like, having long ago forgotten!”
“Make me prisoner!” laughed Alwa. “Count then the hours until three thousand blades join Jaimihr and help him grease the dungeon hinges with thy fat!”
“Having looted Jaimihr's palace, you speak thus?”
“Having whipped a dog, I wait for the dog to lick my hand.”