to call him.

"Remember," the Colonel said to me at parting, "above all, to show no
fear of Surajah Dowlah. Mr. Watts is too modest in his behaviour, and
for that reason the young tyrant despises and ill-uses him. But I
think that is not a fault you are likely to fall into; indeed, I have
heard that during your former residence there you fairly awed the
Nabob; so I have good hope that you will do the same again. The moment
you have secured the execution of the treaties it will be time to fly,
and as soon as I hear you are safe I shall put my troops on the march
to Plassy."

CHAPTER XVIII

_MEER JAFFIER'S OATH_

I arrived in Moorshedabad without accident, and at once repaired to
the house of the Company's agent, Mr. Watts.

I found this gentleman in a state of the utmost apprehension. The air
was full of suspicion. Moorshedabad swarmed with the Nabob's spies,
who watched the going in and coming out of every person whom their
master had reason to distrust, and carried their reports to his
infamous minion, Lal Moon. Mr. Watts assured me that he did not
consider his own life to be worth a day's purchase, and the Nabob had
uttered such threats against him on the last occasion of his going to
the palace that he dared not present himself there again.

Fortunately for me Colonel Clive had provided me with an excuse for my
journey in the shape of a letter to Surajah Dowlah, in which the
Colonel renewed his expressions of friendship, but demanded the
withdrawal of the Nabob's army from Plassy. This was a step which the
conspirators considered indispensable to their design, as they had no
expectation that Colonel Clive could overcome this force of forty
thousand men as long as it kept the field.

Armed with the Colonel's letter I went to wait upon the Nabob, leaving
Mr. Watts to exert his utmost diligence in procuring the necessary
signatures to the treaties, which I delivered to him for the purpose.

Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the Nabob's officers when I,
who had fled secretly from the city six months before, presented
myself before them in the character of an ambassador from Sabat Jung
and boldly demanded an audience. They hastened to carry the news to
the Nabob, and after a short time they returned and conducted me into
his presence.

Although scarcely three months had elapsed since I had last seen
Surajah Dowlah, I observed a change for the worse in his appearance.
He sat on the royal musnud w