CHAPTER XXIX.
Did he swear with his leg in a spring-steel trap And a tongue dry-cracked from thirst?
Or down on his knees at his lady's lap With the lady's lips to his own, mayhap, And his head and his heart aburst?
Nay! I have listened to vows enough And never the oath could bind Save that, that a free man chose to take For his own good reputation's sake! They're qualified--they're tricks--they break-- They're words, the other kind! MAHOMMED GUNGA had long ago determined to "go it blind" on Cunningham.
He had known him longest and had the greatest right.

Rosemary McClean, who knew him almost least of all, so far as length of time was concerned, was ready now to trust him as far as the Risaldar dared go; her limit was as long and as devil-daring as Mahommed Gunga's.

Whatever Scots reserve and caution may have acted as a brake on Duncan McClean's enthusiasm were offset by the fact that his word was given; so far as he was concerned, he was now as much and as obedient a servant of the Company as either of the others.

Nor was his attitude astonishing.
Alwa's was the point of view that was amazing, unexpected, brilliant, soldierly, unselfish--all the things, in fact, that no one had the least right to expect it to turn out to be.

Two or three thousand men looked to him as their hereditary chieftain who alone could help them hold their chins high amid an overwhelming Hindoo population; his position was delicate, and he might have been excused for much hesitation, and even for a point-blank refusal to do what he might have preferred personally.