I was silent.

"I am going to present you to my people this evening, by-and-by, when
they have eaten and rested. My servants are waiting for you in the
little tent at the back."

"Waiting? What for?" I said in surprise.

"You will see," he said, smiling. "Oh, well, there need be no reserve
or form between us. You have been badly wounded, and you are dressed as
one who has suffered. I have had more worthy garments brought for the
great chief and brave young warrior, my friend."

"My own uniform?" I said sharply.

"Yes; of your own design," he said quietly.

"No, no; I mean my own--the Company's uniform."

"A noble uniform," he said warmly; "because it is stained with a brave
swordsman's blood. I have it still, but it is cut, torn, and spoiled,
Gil. It is something to have--to treasure up as one would a good weapon
that has done its duty."

"I must wear that or none," I said firmly.

"No," he replied gravely, as he leaned toward me; "you will never wear
the Company's uniform again. The great Company has passed away, as
other great powers have passed before."

The fierce words rose to my lips to say that this was nothing, for my
people were; fighting hard to recover lost ground, but I checked myself.
I did not want to insult a brave man who was my friend, neither did I
wish to show that I had had news of the state of the country, so I said
quietly--

"I told you last time that what you wish is impossible."

He frowned, but smiled again directly.

"Yes, when you were weak and suffering. You are stronger now, and have
thought better of my proposal."

"I have thought it a great honour, Ny Deen--rajah--your highness, I
mean."

"No, no; Ny Deen always to you, Gil Vincent," he said warmly. "I am a
maharajah, but only a man. I have not forgotten."

His words, and the way in which they were uttered, moved me, and I held
out my hand, which he grasped and held as I went on excitedly--

"Yes, I know you are my friend," I cried. "You love me, and you are
great and noble and chivalrous. You would not wish to see me degrade
myself?"

"By becoming my greatest officer?" he said, in a low, reproachful voice.

"No," I cried; "that would be a great honour, far too great for such a
boy as I am."

He shook his head.

"You are only a boy yet, but you have had the training of a man, and you
have the knowledge of a great soldier growing in you rapidly. The
boyhood is going fast, Gil, and life is very sh