"
"But the gaol, Hazari Sahib?"
"No, dog, if thou but tell the truth in full, that we may profit,
to-morrow thou may go free, and if any man in the camp wounds thee his
life will pay for it. Till noon thou may have for the going; even food
for thy start on the way back to the land of thy accursed tribe. By
the Beard of the Prophet no man of all the Pindari force shall wound
thee. Now speak quick, for I have given a pledge."
There were murmurs amongst the jamadars at Kassim's terms, for their
hearts were full of hate for the creature who had slain their loved
chief. But Kassim was a man famous for his intelligence. In all the
councils Amir Khan had been swayed by the Hazari's judgment. It was an
accursed price to pay, they felt, but the Chief was dead; to kill his
slayer perhaps was not as great a thing as to have Hunsa's confession
written and attested to. All that vast horde of fierce riding Pindaris
and Bundoolas had been gathered by Amir Khan with the object of being a
power in the war that was brewing--the war in which the Mahrattas were
striving for ascendency, and the British massing to crush the Mahratta
horde.
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