The villages are full o' little
children. Two million people--two hundred and fifty thousand fighting men--and
all English! They only want the rifles and a little drilling. Two hundred and
fifty thousand men, ready to cut in on Russia's right flank when she tries for
India! Peachey, man,' he says, chewing his beard in great hunks, 'we shall be
Emperors--Emperors of the Earth! Rajah Brooke will be a suckling to us. I'll
treat with the Viceroy on equal terms. I'll ask him to send me twelve picked
English--twelve that I know of--to help us govern a bit. There's Mackray,
Serjeant Pensioner at Segowli--many's the good dinner he's given me, and his
wife a pair of trousers. There's Donkin, the Warder of Tounghoo Jail; there's
hundreds that I could lay my hand on if I was in India. The Viceroy shall do
it for me; I'll send a man through in the spring for those men, and I'll write
for a dispensation from the Grand Lodge for what I've done as Grand Master.
That--and all the Sniders that'll be thrown out when the native troops in
India take up the Martini. They'll be worn smooth, but they'll do for fighting
in these hills. Twelve English, a hundred thousand Sniders run through the
Amir's country in driblets,--I'd be content with twenty thousand in one year,-
-and we'd be an Empire.
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