He sprang to his feet and waved by his councillors to cruelty.
"Go, my lords!" he cried fiercely.

"Go seek the King who is no true King if ye will, and kill him.

But this boy goes with me to Kandahar; the stuff of which he is made counts for life, not for death." Then with a sudden generous impulse, for he was at heart his father's son, he held the hilt of his drawn sword in token of vassalage for Baby Akbar to touch.
And the child, clever, observant beyond his years, remembering how his mother had guided his fingers to Old Faithful's weapon, put out his little hand solemnly and touched it.
Behind their close-folded veils Head-nurse and Wet-nurse wept for joy.
And the old trooper's grip relaxed and the hard relentless look faded from Roy's face.
For here was safety, for a while at any rate, for the Heir-to-Empire.
He, and Fate between them, had won his first victory.

No! his second, since the first had been the conquering of Adam's obstinacy.
But for that Baby Akbar might not have behaved with such dignity..