Dick’s first act was to test the Rajah’s words about the faithfulness of the guards, and he crossed to the two standing by the prisoners.

“Swords for myself and friends,” he said sharply.

The man addressed called to one of the servants standing trembling and helpless by the door, gave him an order, and the man hurried out, to return in a few minutes with three jewelled weapons with their belts from the Rajah’s armoury.

“Hah!” cried Wyatt, seizing one of them, while Dick buckled the other on, just as the heavy tramp of half the escort in their boots and spurs rang on the marble steps outside.

“I ordered half of them to come up,” said Wyatt, and then, as loud shouts and cries arose, he signed to his companion to draw; but Dick rushed through the door, to find some twenty of the Rajahs guard ready to oppose the artillery-men, who were about to rush up, sabre in hand.

“Halt!” shouted Dick, and then turning to the guard, who faced fiercely round, he said in Hindustani:

“Your Rajah says you will be faithful to him. Join with our men in defending the palace against his enemies and ours.”

The men looked in doubt, but Wyatt spoke out now.

“The Rajah has been poisoned,” he said. “Six of you go to his door, and let no one but the doctor and servants pass. The rest of you guard the palace gates. Where is your officer?”

Their leader stepped out, tulwar in hand.

“Call out the rest of the men,” he said. “You must help us to defend the palace against all who come. But these two must be kept safely;” and he pointed to the two ministers within the room.

A minute or two before, the place was all passing into a state of wild confusion, but the short, prompt words of the two officers sufficed; and when Dick, after a word or two with Wyatt, gave a fresh order, it was plain to the guard that they were working with friends, and in a very few minutes every gate was closed and held.

Dick’s orders were that four of the Rajah’s men should guard the Ranee.

This done, leaving Wyatt impatiently waiting for some sign of the coming troop, Dick made his way to the Rajah’s room, into which he was allowed to pass at once.

“Well?” he asked.

“I can tell you nothing yet,” replied the doctor. “The poor fellow is in fearful agony, but I was able to act so quickly that I have hope. It’s a terrible position, though; you see. I am in total ignorance of the poison used.”

Almost as they spoke, the trampling of horses and the lumbering of the gun-wheels was heard in the distance.

Dick uttered a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness,” he said. “But we shan’t be many now, and it does seem such a piece of impudence for us, a mere handful of Englishmen, to take so much upon ourselves as we do.”

“Knowledge is power, my dear Darrell,” said the doctor. “It must always have been so since the world began, that the man who knew most took the lead. You soldiers, with your discipline and weapons, can attack and thrash twenty times your number.”

“I suppose so,” said Dick, smiling; “and you as a surgeon can laugh at twenty of the native doctors.”

“Well, I don’t want to brag, Darrell,” replied the doctor, “but I think I could save twenty men’s lives while they saved one. Yes, knowledge is power. I don’t suppose they would own openly to my being the better man, but they’d rather trust me than one of their fellows. They can’t help looking up to us. But I’m glad the troop has come, for I’ve felt during the last half-hour that my throat was not safe.”

“Why?” said Dick. “You’re a non-combatant.”

“Pooh! What do they care about non-combatants? Some mad enthusiast or another might have accused me of poisoning the Rajah after seeing me give the poor fellow a dose of antidote.”

“Darrell here!” said Wyatt, coming to the door hurriedly.

“Yes, I’ll come,” whispered Dick; but as he took a step forward he glanced towards the Rajah’s couch, and he saw the victim’s hand raised in a sign to him to approach.

The poor fellow’s face was livid and drawn with pain as Dick bent over him and took the hand offered, feeling a pang of reproach the while at his doubts of the prince. For, in spite of the pain the sufferer was in, he smiled in Dick’s face and pressed his hand.

“I heard your men come,” he said. “Keep the palace and the temple. If you hold these bravely half my people will side with you, and you can set the rest at defiance.”

“Captain Wyatt will fight to the last,” said Dick.

“Yes, I know he will. You will too—for your friend?”

“I will,” said Dick earnestly, and there was remorse in his breast as he pressed the sufferer’s hand.

“One word more,” whispered the Rajah faintly. “It is an enemy who did this—to poison you and your friends—but it could not be my mother. Where are the others?”

“Prisoners,” said Dick, frowning.

“I ask that they may not be killed. Tell Captain Wyatt that. Now go—I cannot talk, Darrell,” he whispered. “I am only a little older than you are—and I want to live; there is so much to do. Tell Doctor Robson not to let me die.”

A hand was laid on Dick’s shoulder, and Wyatt bent forward and pressed the Rajah’s arm.

“I am very, very sorry for this, sir,” he said in a low tone. “But we must go now. It is urgent.”

“Yes, go,” said the Rajah, clutching at Wyatt’s hand as he looked wistfully in his eyes. “Fight for me and save me. I am your friend.”

The doctor had come to the other side of the couch, and laid his hand upon the Rajah’s forehead, with the result that the poor fellow sank back with a sigh and closed his eyes.

“Come, Dick, lad,” said Wyatt. “Our work is cut out;” and they were hurrying to the door, when, to their surprise, they were confronted by the Ranee, who looked twenty years older in her horror and despair.

“Will he die?” she whispered to Wyatt.

“I hope not, madam, but we mean to live,” said the captain, giving her a peculiar look of disgust which made her shrink back; while a flash of resentment swept over her handsome face, and she drew herself up as she said quickly:

“It is not true, I swear. I have always hated you and yours, but I am a queen, and I would not have done this horrible, treacherous thing. Once more, I swear I did not know of this.”

“But you took pity, and warned me not to drink,” said Dick sharply.

“I swear to you I did not know,” said the Ranee once more. “Now, tell me what you are going to do.”

“Slay all the Rajah’s enemies who come and attack us,” said Wyatt firmly.

“And if my son—dies?” she groaned.

“Hold Soojeepur till others decide what is best. Go to your son, madam, and help the doctor to save his life.”

“Yes; but those two? You have not slain them?”

“The Rajah’s orders are that you should be protected, madam, and that their lives should be spared,” said Dick frankly, and the Ranee uttered a sigh of relief as he turned away.

“We’re losing time,” said Wyatt impatiently as he hurried out. “Dick, lad, our work’s cut out to-night, and you must help me all you can. Hark! you can hear them here. The news is spreading through the place, and the people are crowding up. The enemy will have set up the report that we have poisoned the Rajah and seized the place. Heaven only knows how matters will turn out, but we are going to hold the palace and the great temple to the death, and if we have to use the guns—well, it is no fault of ours.”

Dick said nothing; he merely gave his companion a firm pressure of the hand, and walked down with him into the beautiful vestibule, which was now filled with the Rajah’s guards, two of whose leaders approached to meet them, looking as if in doubt whether to treat them as enemies or friends.

Wyatt stepped forward and offered his hand to both, while the fierce-looking picked men all stood blocking the way, their flashing tulwars in their hands, while both the English officers’ were sheathed.

There was a momentary hesitation on the others’ part, and then they passed their swords into their left hands and accepted the salutation of friendship.

“We have just left the Rajah’s side,” said Wyatt.

“Is he dead?”

“No. He has given us his instructions what to do,” replied Wyatt.

“What are they?”

“To call upon all his brave followers to help him against his enemies.”

“The English are his enemies,” cried a voice from the back angrily.

“It is false!” cried Wyatt fiercely. “Your Rajah knows what is right and best for his country, and trusts us.”

“Who poisoned him?” cried the same voice. “Those who meant the poison for us,” said Wyatt firmly—“his enemies as well as ours.—You two are his highness’s captains,” he continued, turning to the two officers whose hands he had grasped. “Go up, and ask him to give you orders what to do.”

“There is no need,” said one of them loudly, as he turned so that all present might hear. “I was present when his highness sent despatches asking for help from the English against his foes. They came, and have worked for us bravely ever since.”

There was a murmur of assent, and the chief went on. “I am captain of the Rajah’s guard,” he cried. “I am for the Rajah, my master, and for Soojeepur.”

There was a loud shout and the clashing of weapons, but as soon as the sounds died out the chief cried: “Now, then, who is for the Ranee and the priests?” There was not a sound within, but from outside came a strange, increasing, muttering roar, as of gathering hosts hurrying through the streets and coming towards where they stood.

“It is enough, gentlemen,” said Wyatt, striding forward to stand confronting the guard; and Dick’s heart throbbed with admiration and pride—and perhaps slightly, too, with envy—as the big, manly, broad-chested Englishman drew himself up and spoke in his deep, sonorous tones. “The Rajah’s orders are that the queen, the Wazir, and the chief Brahmin shall be protected, and the palace and the great temple with its treasurer held against all comers. You, gentlemen, will do the duty, and pass into the court here all whom you can trust to strengthen our force.”

“And what will you do?” said the chief who had spoken, looking at him curiously.

“I shall guard the approach to the palace with our guns,” said Wyatt. “I could sweep the streets clear, but I do not wish to fire a shot; it would mean slaying friends as well as foes. But the palace courts must be kept free, or the Ranee’s followers will get the upper hand.”

“Yes, that is right,” said the chief. “Then get all your men in hand,” said Wyatt, “and, as we drive the crowd back, station guards to hold the different entries, at the temple as well as here.” The chief swung his flashing tulwar on high, and his followers imitated his action as they uttered a wild and warlike cry, all following Wyatt and Dick down into the court, where, by the light of the many lamps, the troop of artillery sat drawn up; and they cheered again in their way as the two officers sprang into their saddles.