"Beg pardon, sir. Not from any wish to interfere, but I've been opening
my eyes and ears a good deal since I came here."
"Well, and what have you seen and heard?"
"Just enough to make me understand that the Rajah and some of his people
want to be good friends with us."
"Yes; he said so."
"While his mother, all the Brahmins, and the people who believe them
would like to cut our throats."
"Yes, Stubbs; there is no doubt a division of opinion."
"Which means a house divided against itself, sir--enemies in camp as
well as outside."
"I'm afraid so."
"Well, Mr Darrell, under the circumstances, and as I'm made an officer,
_pro tempry_, as they call it, perhaps it wouldn't be out of place if I
made a sort of suggestion."
"Not at all, Stubbs," replied Dick, pulling himself a little more
together. "I shall be glad to hear anything you have to say. Of
course, I am not obliged to follow your advice?"
"Cer-_tain_-ly not, sir. I only say what I do because I've been seeing
what the people out here are like for the last twenty years."
"Exactly. Well, what is it?"
"Only this, sir. Some of them with brains take to the English--you
know, and including Scotch and Irish too--while the others, the
benighted ones, taught by their idol-worshipping old priests, hate us
like poison."
"Yes, I know; and they're not to be trusted."
"That's it, sir. Consequently, you never know when there may be a rush.
It's just as likely as not that, when you least expect it, a mob may
come down upon you and never give you a chance."
"You believe there's a prospect of something of the kind now?" said Dick
quickly.
"I think there's always a chance of it, sir; and it makes me venture to
say that if I was in command here, shut up in what is half an enemy's
city, I wouldn't trust to a couple of sentries at the gate. You see, if
we were rushed the enemy'd do a lot of mischief before we could rally
and hold part of the place."
"You'd double the sentries again, then, Stubbs?" said Dick quickly.
"No, sir. I wouldn't wish to be with braver chaps than ours are, but
the sort of thing I want to guard against would take place before you
could say `Jack Robinson.' And what could four of ours do against a mob
of men armed with knives, who think nothing of being killed, because
their priests teach that if they've only killed a few infidels--meaning
us--they'll be as right as a trivet?"
"You'd double them again?" said Dick.
"No, sir, I wouldn't. I'd do something much easier, and then have one
sentry so as to spare the men."
"What do you mean?"
"Simplest thing in the world, sir," said Stubbs--"I'd shut the big
gates."
"Of course. How stupid! Go and give orders for them to be closed at
once."
Stubbs tightened his lips and shook his head. "Not now? Look
suspicious?"
"Do it directly, sir: but you give the orders sharp yourself, and as if
you meant business. The men will like it. You've no idea how they
notice that sort of thing, sir, and what a deal they think of an officer
who seems to be always on the _kwee weeve_ to keep them out of danger.
It gives 'em confidence, sir, and they work twice as well. That's why
our troop's so smart--the men believe in their officers."
"Thank you, Stubbs," said Dick quietly. "Yes? You were going to say
something else?"
"Which I were, sir. What do you say to ordering out the squads o'
number one and two, letting 'em unlimber and turn the guns to command
the gateway, then load up with grape, and dismiss all but two men with
lighted linstocks. You could do with one sentry at the gate then, and
take a couple from the roof to balance it."
"Yes, excellent," said Dick; and the next minute the orders were being
given in as manly a tone as the lad could command, the gates were closed
and barred, the men summoned, the guns run into position and loaded, and
all dismissed save two who stood close to the breeches of the bright
pieces, armed with their linstocks, each a smouldering spark.
Everything was gone through with the greatest alacrity; and as the men
went back to their barrack-room one of them said to a comrade:
"Well, talk about old head on young shoulders!"
"Ah," said the other. "He's a sharp un, and no mistake."
"He is," said the first man. "I say, you know what the niggers believe
in?"
"Everything. See that great copper idol in the temple just yonder?"
"What--of the fat chap with the elephant's head? Yes; but that isn't
what I mean. `Temsy chosy,' they call it--'bout a man always being on
the change after he's dead, and coming out something else."
"Oh, yes, I've heared."
"I'm going to take to that way of thinking, for it seems to me that
young Dick Dare-all must have been an old fighting-general come to life
again."