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Wylie, I. A. R. (Ida Alexa Ross), 1885-1959

"The Native Born or, the Rajah's People"

The scum shall be
cleared away, and if it costs us the lives of our greatest, it will
not be at too high a price. We as well as you need the bitter lesson
which only disaster can teach us. We shall see our weakness face to
face, we shall root out our weeds and start afresh. You and the whole
world shall see that the soil is still rich with honor."
A change so rapid that it was scarcely noticeable passed over the
Hindu's face. It would have been a flash of hope but for the
contradiction of the scornfully curved lips.
"My belief is dead, Sahib."
"It must live again."
"Would to God that were possible!" Suddenly he leaned forward and
spoke hurriedly and in English. "Captain Nicholson, there shall be no
treachery. This is not a mutiny as in the past--it is war. And war is
between men. See that--your women are brought into safety. I give you
till midnight."
"They can not go alone."
Nehal Singh laughed sneeringly.
"It is not your lives that I seek. Go with your women. No harm shall
be done you. Make good your escape, for I swear that after midnight I
shall lead my people against their enemies, and he who falls into
their hands need not hope for mercy."
"And I also swear an oath, Rajah Nehal Singh! Not one of us will leave
Marut. The men will remain at their posts, and the women will stand by
them."
"You are throwing away your lives."
"They will not be thrown away. They will prove at least that I have
not boasted.


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