The freed wolf limped home to his lair,
    And lay to lick his sore. 
    With wrinkled lip and fangs agnash—­
    With back-laid ear and eyes aflash—­
    “Twas something rather more than rash
    To turn me loose!” he swore.

Now Jaimihr fondly thought he held a few cards up his sleeve when he made his bargain with Rosemary McClean and let himself be lowered from the Alwa-sahib’s rock.  He knew, better probably than any one except his brother and the priests, how desperate the British situation had become throughout all India at an instant’s notice, and he made his terms accordingly.

He did not believe, in the first place, that there would be any British left to succor by the time matters had been settled sufficiently in Howrah to enable him to dare leave the city at his rear.  Afterward, should it seem wise, he would have no objection in the world to riding to the aid of a Company that no longer existed.

In the second place, he entertained no least compunction about breaking his word completely in every particular.  He knew that the members of the little band on Alwa’s rock would keep their individual and collective word, and therefore that Rosemary McClean would come to him.  He suspected, though, that there would prove to be a rider of some sort to her agreement as regarded marrying him, for he had young Cunningham in mind; and he knew enough of Englishmen from hearsay and deduction to guess that Cunningham would interject any obstacle his ingenuity could devise.

Natives of India do not like Englishmen to marry their women.  How much less, then, would a stiff-necked member of a race of conquerors care to stand by while a woman of his own race became the wife of a native prince?  He did not trust Cunningham, and he recalled that he had had no promise from that gentleman.

Therefore, he proposed to forestall Cunningham if possible, and, if that were inconvenient or rash, he meant to take other means of making Rosemary McClean his, beyond dispute, in any case.

Next to Rosemary McClean he coveted most the throne of Howrah.  With regard to that he was shrewd enough not to conceal from himself for a second the necessity for scotching the priests of Siva before he dare broach the Howrah treasure, and so make the throne worth his royal while.  Nor did he omit from his calculations the public clamor that would probably be raised should he deal too roughly with the priests.  And he intended to deal roughly with them.

So the proposed allegiance of the Rangars suited him in more ways than one.  His army and his brother’s were so evenly matched in numbers and equipment that he had been able to leave Howrah without fear for the safety of his palace while his back was turned.  The eight hundred whom he had led on the unlucky forray to Alwa’s were scarcely missed, and, even had the Maharajah known that he was absent with them, there were still too many men behind for him to dare to start reprisals.  The Maharajah was too complete a coward to do anything much until he was forced into it.