detachment, in
support of the police, guarding the Mall. But--the city was in open
rebellion. No white man could safely show his face there. The
anti-British poison, instilled without let or hindrance, was taking
violent effect. He'd seen enough of it for one day. He wanted things to
eat and drink--especially drink. 'Things' were produced; and
afterwards--alone with Roy in their bungalow--he talked more freely, in
no optimistic vein, sworn foe of pessimism though he was.

"Sporadic trouble? Not a bit of it! Look at the way they're going for
lines of communication. And look at these choice fragments from one of
their posters I pinched off a police inspector. 'The English are the
worst lot and are like monkeys, whose deceit and cunning are obvious to
high and low.... Do not lose courage, but try your utmost to turn these
men away from your holy country.' Pretty sentiments--eh? Fact is, we're
up against organised rebellion."

Roy nodded. "I had that from Dyan, long ago. Paralysis of movement and
Government is their game. We may have a job to regain control of the
city."

"Not if we declare Martial Law," said the son of Theo Desmond with a
kindling eye. "Of course, I'm only a soldier--and proud of it! But I've
more than a nodding acquaintance with the Punjabi. He's no word-monger;
handier with his _lathi_ than his tongue. If you stir him up, he hits
out. And I don't blame him. The voluble gentlemen from the South don't
realise the inflammable stuff they're playing with----"

"Perhaps they do," hazarded Roy.

"M-yes--perhaps. But the one on the electric standard this evening
didn't exactly achieve a star turn!--You saw him, eh?" He looked very
straight at Roy. "I noticed you--hanging round on the edge of things.
You ought to have gone straight on."

Roy winced. "We'd heard wild rumours. She was anxious about the D.C."

Lance nodded, staring at the bowl of his pipe. "When does--Mrs Elton
make a move?"

"The first possible instant I should say, from the look of her."

"Good. She's on the right tack, for once! The D.C. deserves a
first-class Birthday Honour--and may possibly wangle an O.B.E.! I'm told
that he and the D.I.G., with a handful of police, pretty well saved the
station before we came on the scene. It's been a nearer shave than one
cares to think about. And it's not over."

They sat up till after midnight discussing the general situation, that
looked blacker every hour. And, till long after midnight, an u