Randi and the Mad Fakir

Mr Quincy Sir,
Terrible news from India.  It is I, the Randi Ram, most excellent gentleman's servant from the 2nd Coastal Madras Sepoys.  Your brother sir is here, in Fort George.  He came straight from a ship, where some navy man captain named Farthingdale had set him ashore.  He introduced himself to Lieutenant Grahame, my own most excellent bald and brainy Officer, as "Quentin Whitmore, a very British Officer of our mad King, gods bless him."
Sorry to say Captain Sahib,but he is not a tall resolute figure such as yourself. Mr Grahame is an Officer of ready wit.  Since Mr Gloria Beaumont, our Ensign was shot in the Dhoolie, Mr Grahame has been a most sarcastic English gentleman.  "What-ho, Lofty," this is what he said.
Mr Quentin was a little angered I thought, but I arranged the Cha-wallah to serve.  (the Rams are a Caste that will not do such work of course). Mr Quentin told a sad tale concerning Miss Parker, a missionary lady who had escaped from Captain Farthingdale's ship, and made inland for Pornomalee in Bhuna, to convert the poor badmashes and followers of the goat that live in that terrible place.  All should follow Jeesirs, one of the most excellent British gods.

A theological debate, complete with big chopper!

The colonel himself was called to attend, with Captain Ashwood.
Now Colonel Reynolds is a man who drinks a thing called Pink gin.  He too is not resolute.  Mr Quentin was very persuasive, and used your own name, calling on the spirit of Quincy, hero of Plassy, last of the powderers.  A man who has fought as a Prussian Officer, as well as a Navy Captain, and something called a ranger of Texas.  Would the Captain himself see a lady isolated and do naught? (what is this naught?  It sounds rude to me sir)
The colonel gave to Mr Quentin Ensign Sugden's Company, missing twenty men since the events of last year.  He also insisted that Mr Lieutenant Mackintosh accompany the expedition.  Mr Quentin said that he had not had time to engage a servant, and that if Lieutenant Grahame could loan him Randi Ram it would be a great boon. (What is this boon?  Is it not a pole that blocks a road?)
The poor Randi Ram must campaign again.  Terrible news Sir!

Nookie the Slaver.  Two for One Offers!

Before we trudged out Mr Grahame took counsel with Nookie Noor.  He is an information seller and slaver this Nookie, from Pornomalee.  For ten rupees he told of Miss Parker stirring up the local Fakir.  She has given away bibles, good for lightning household fires, but the Fakir says that they are bound in the hides of cows!  How can this be I thought?  The English are proper Christians and respect the gods.  They would never do this.
For ten more rupees he told of the Fekkar Brothers of the unwashed caste, bandits who use Jezails, long barrelled guns.  Nothing is more dangerous than a Jezail in the hands of a dirty Fekkar.  The dirty Fekkars have joined the angry Fakir.

The Dirty Fekkars in action

The 2nd Madras march out

Worse though, and I would only tell you sir, who rescued me from the choppers of the Typhoo Sultan's Guards, armed only with your British spunk. The Fakir in Pornomalee is Ram Shackle, elder brother of Ram Ranjit, called the Randi Ram in our Britisher Army.
If Mr Quentin finds out he will probably hang me.  If my brother finds out I will be datsang, out of my caste, and then put in the Typhoo Sultan's Tiger machine.
Let us hope sir, that you brother, Quentin, is up to this task with only sixty men.
But this is not a tall man.  I must polish his high heeled boots, and he wears a top hat.  Better these than to polish Mr Grahame's smooth head.
With deep respect, I shall tell all if I survive,
The Randi Ram
Fort George 1780.