bodied Frenchmen were under arms. And Italy not yet in the war!

Sahib, I swear to you that all the spies in all the world seemed at
that moment to be Italian, and all in Marseilles at once! There were
spies among the men who brought our stores. Spies who brought the
hay. Spies among the women who walked now and then through our lines
to admire, accompanied by officers who were none too wide-awake if
they were honest. You would not believe how many pamphlets reached
us, printed in our tongue and some of them worded very cunningly.

There were men who could talk Hindustanee who whispered to us to
surrender to the Germans at the first opportunity, promising in that
case that we shall be well treated. The German kaiser, these men
assured us, had truly turned Muhammadan; as if that were anything to
Sikhs, unless perhaps an additional notch against him! I was told
they mistook the Muhammadans in another camp for Sikhs, and were
spat on for their pains!

Nor were all the spies Italians, after all. Our hearts went out to
the French. We were glad to be on their side--glad to help them
defend their country. I shall be glad to my dying day that I have
struck a blow for France. Yet the only really dangerous man of all
who tried to corrupt us in Marseilles was a French officer of the
rank of major, who could speak our tongue as well as I. He said with
sorrow that the French were already as good as vanquished, and that
he pitied us as lambs sent to the slaughter. The part, said he, of
every wise man was to go over to the enemy before the day should
come for paying penalties.

I told what he had said to me to a risaldar, and the risaldar spoke