"It will not be a case of cringing. We could simply put the matter
before him."
"There is something in what Stafford says," Nicholson agreed. "From
what I know of the Rajah, he seems both reasonable and humane. He may
have yielded to his father's importunities in a fit of anger, and is
perhaps already wishing himself well out of the mess. For the women's
sake, Colonel, we ought to have a shot--and not all for the women's
sake, either. Heaven knows what this business will cost England if it
comes to a head!"
Colonel Carmichael bit his lip impatiently. He did not recognize his
own motives of desiring a last hand-to-hand struggle. They were those
of an old man who sees Cheltenham and stagnation looming in the
distance and prays for death. But his common sense conquered the
selfish promptings.
"Who would be likely to undertake the mission with any hope of
success?" he asked.
"Nehal Singh and I were, toward the end, rather more than friendly,"
Nicholson began. "I believe he entertained a real liking for me--"
"If any one goes, I must!" The interruption came from Stafford. His
head was raised. He faced the two men with a stern determination. "No,
Nicholson; I know all you want to say. I have no sort of sympathy with
the natives--I haven't your power over them. But this is different. I
have a power. I may have. Let me go. If I fail, then you can try."
"By the time you have failed it will be too late," Nicholson returned.
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