"I will not see thee sacrificed for this tribe of ragged people, Colonel sahib!"
Monty rose to his feet slowly. His face was an enigma. The Rajput stood at attention facing him and they met each other's eyes—East facing West—in such fashion that manhood seemed to fill the smoky room. Every one was silent. Even Maga held her breath. Monty strode toward Rustum Khan; the Rajput was the first to speak.
"Colonel sahib, I spoke wise words!"
It seemed to me that Monty looked very keenly at him before he answered.
"Have you had supper, Rustum Khan? You look to me feverish from overwork and lack of food."
"What care I for my belly, sahib, if you break my heart?" the Rajput answered. "Shall I live to see Turks fling thy carcass to the birds? I have offered my own body in place of thine. Am I without honor, that my offer is refused?"
Monty answered that in the Rajput tongue, and it sounded like the bass notes of an organ.
"Brother mine, it is not the custom of my race to send substitutes to keep such promises. That thou knowest, and none has reason to know better. If thy memories and honor urge thee to come the way I take, is there no room for two of us?"
"Aye, sahib!" said the Rajput huskily. "I said before, I am thy man. I come. I obey!"
"Obey, do you?" Monty laid both hands on the Rajput's shoulders, struck him knee against knee without warning and pressed him down into a squatting posture. "Then obey when I order you to sit!"
The Rajput laughed up at him as suddenly sweet-tempered as a child.
