“Well, what about the state of affairs here?” Dick told him as nearly as he could everything that had passed.
“I do, my boy. This Rajah Singh will be kept well informed about our coming, and you will see that he will strike at once before more troops come. He’ll think, as the Rajah does, that we are so few that the sooner he begins the better; and, if he gives us a chance, he’ll catch a tartar. He doesn’t know what our troop can do.”
“We are few, though,” said Dick thoughtfully.
“Yes, we are few; but that doesn’t matter. We only want plenty of room. By the way, though, Dicky, the city seems to be pretty strong with its big walls. I hadn’t time to see much more than we did when we rode in, but I had a peep. As for this old palace, there’s plenty of water, and, given enough provisions and forage for the horses, we could stand a siege; for it is a fortification in itself—only one entrance, and that through those big gates. Take it altogether, I think we are in for some fun.”
“Bad, you young heathen! Then why, in the name of common-sense—why did you turn soldier? Here we are with plenty of friends, and a splendid suspicion of danger sandwiched in amongst them in the shape of conspirators like mamma, the dowager, and her Brahmin friends.”
“Yes; we noticed several of those scowling at us as we went to the palace.”
“Hulton said something of the kind just now, but I couldn’t get much out of him. He was grumpy and thoughtful. I don’t think he much likes the idea of what he has to do. He’s brave enough, but I think he likes to be led better than leading others. There, go to bed.”
“You may sleep soundly for I shall visit the posts to-night and see that no one goes near the ammunition with a light.”
“Where is it, then?” said Dick anxiously.
“Just below these rooms. I was obliged to have it put there temporarily. We’ll make one of the places across the yard there a magazine to-morrow. Good-night.”
“Good-night,” said Dick, who had suddenly grown wakeful.
“You shan’t be blown up, Dicky,” continued Wyatt; “we can’t spare you.”
“I wish he hadn’t said anything about that powder being underneath,” muttered Dick as he undressed, after examining his charpoy, with its delicate muslin mosquito-curtains.