Magic

"Yes, we. For I, Lal Singh, propose to take my stand at your right
hand. I have not been idle. Everywhere your friends are evincing
impatience. Ah, I know. You wish for a bloodless rebellion; but that
can not be, not among our people. You have said that in their zeal
your followers, if they knew, would sweep the poor old king out of your
path. Listen. Shall we put him back on the throne, to perform some
other mad thing like this gift of his throne to the Colonel Sahib?"

Ramabai, watched intently by the two conspirators for the British Raj
and his white friends, paced back and forth, his hands behind his back,
his head bent. He was a Christian; he was not only a Christian, he was
a Hindu, and the shedding of blood was doubly abhorrent to his mind.

"I am being pulled by two horses," he said.

"Act quickly," advised Ahmed; "one way or the other. Umballa will
throw his men round the whole city and there will not be a space large
enough for a rat to crawl through. And he will fight like a rat this
time; mark me."

Ramabai paused suddenly in front of his wife and smiled down at her.

"Pundita, you are my legal queen. It is for you to say what shall be
done. I had in mind a republic."

Lal Singh cackled ironically.

"Do not dream," said Ahmed. "Common sense should tell you that there
can be no republic in Allaha. There must be an absolute ruler, nothing
less. Your Majesty, speak," he added, salaaming before Pundita.