“Nay, sahib! It was touch and go! I gave the touch! I saw as I rode how close the issue was and I saw my chance and took it! Had the memsahib been slain, she had at least died in full view of the English—and there was a battle to be won. What would you? I am a soldier—I.”
“Indeed you are!” swore Colonel Carter.
“Sahib! Call my sons!”
His sons were standing near him, but the colonel called up his grandsons, who had been told to stand at a little distance off. They clustered round the Risaldar in silence, and he looked them over and counted them.
“All here?” he asked.
“All here!”
“Whose sons and grandsons are ye?”
“Thine!” came the chorus.
“This sahib says that having done my bidding and delivered her ye rode to rescue, ye are no more bound to the Raj. Ye may return to your homes if ye wish.”
There was no answer.