“I did not count. I did not even know them all by mine or sight. I think, though, that all were killed. I heard men among the mutineers declare that all had been accounted for, save only three women and a child, and me. Those four I myself had hidden, and as for myself—I too was accounted for, and not without credit to the Raj for whom I fight!”
“I believe you, Juggut Khan! Did you have to cut your way out?”
The Rajput smiled.
“There was a message to deliver, sahib! What would you? Should I have waited while they arrested me?”
“Oh! You managed to evade them, did you?”
“At least I am here, sahib!”
The general chewed at his mustache, leaned his chair back against the wall and tapped at his boot with a riding-cane.
“Tell me, Juggut Khan,” he said after another minute's thought, “what is your idea? Is this sporadic? Is this a local outbreak? Will this die down, if left to burn itself out?”
The Rajput laughed aloud.
“'Sporadic,”' he answered, “is a word of which I have yet to learn the meaning. If 'sporadic' means rebellion from Peshawur to Cape Cormorin—revolution, rape, massacre, arson, high treason, torture, death to every European and every half-breed and every loyal native north, south, east and west—then, yes, General sahib, 'sporadic' would be the proper word. If your Honor should mean less than that, then some other word is needed!”