"You think I need not mind sleeping?"

"Not in the least, lad. There is no danger till daybreak, and I am afraid not then, for our enemies are miles away by now."

He was silent, and I lay listening to the old man's hubble-bubble for a time, till a delicious feeling of repose stole over me, and the next thing I heard was the chattering song of minahs--the Indian starlings-- in the trees somewhere outside of the hovel where I lay, and, on opening my eyes, they rested on the ancient face of the old man, squatting down on his heels at a short distance from the foot of my bedstead, the level rays of the sun pleasantly lighting up his calm old face; and as he saw that I was looking at him, he rose to his feet and salaamed to me.

"It is morning, sahib," he said in Hindustani.

"Eh, morning?" cried Brace, springing up. "Thank Heaven! Now, Gil, lad, for the work of another day."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

The place did not seem so desolate and horrible in the bright morning light; and after we had bathed our faces in water brought for us by our host, who also produced some homely cakes, and the lotah full of clear water for us to drink, I felt refreshed and bright, and so, I thought, did Brace; but the stern, hard look came into his face again as soon as he had recompensed our host and we stood outside the house, seeing above the mist the tops of the trees of the tope where our men lay, and as I saw them standing up apparently so near, I wondered how we could have had so much difficulty in finding our way, and said so.

"No cause for wonder, Gil," said Brace, quietly. "Once you go astray in the dark or in a mist, every struggle makes you more confused. Why, Gil, lad, I once got out of bed in the dark, and lost myself in my own room."

I looked at him wonderingly, for his face once more looked pleasant and smiling, but it was dark the moment after, as we crossed the track of the guns, and, trying to make out our past night's course, started at once for the tope.

"They will think us prisoners or dead, Gil. Let's get back."

"And what next?" I said.

He turned and pointed to the deep marks made by our horses and guns, and I had no occasion to ask more.

We both agreed that it was no wonder that we had lost our way in the black darkness of the night, and been wandering about in the most erratic manner, for it was difficult enough to keep in a straight line for the tope where the mist was most dense in the lower ground.

But we reached our temporary shelter at last, were challenged by the sentries, and before we had gone many steps among the trees, the doctor rushed at us, closely followed by Dost.

"My dear Brace!" he cried; "my dear boy!" and he wrung our hands warmly.

"I thought--oh, I don't know what I did not think."

"Why, doctor," said Brace, warmly, "I did not think we were of so much consequence to you."

"Of course not; and I'm a donkey to make so much fuss over you," said the doctor, changing his manner directly, and speaking in his customary snappish, decisive manner. "But I object to anybody else killing you both. That's my business. Am I not your surgeon?"

Dost said nothing; but I saw the tears in his eyes as he followed close behind me and took hold of the lapel of my jacket as he whispered softly--

"Oh, sahib!"

"Well," cried Brace, after a few explanations, "how is the major? how did you get on?"

"Our friend Dost took me safely there, and I stayed with the poor fellow for hours. He is terribly cut about, but far better than I expected, and I believe that those women will nurse him round."

"Thank G.o.d!" said Brace, earnestly; "and I hope we shall be able to give him comfort before long by our news."

"I hope so," said the doctor, bluntly. "You are not upset, then, by your night's experience? You mean to go on?"

"I mean to go on. Yes, doctor, at once. But about you and the major?"

"I am sorry to say that the poor fellow must take his chance now. Dost was of opinion that we could not get in and out again safely, and I did not need to be told. We had a very narrow escape of being made prisoners."

"But, Lacey, the nursing?"

"He has that, and there is no disease, my dear boy. Those two women will do all that I could. It is only a question of seeing to his bandages, and cleanliness. I could say I'll go and stay with him; but if I did, the chances are that I should not get there; and if I did, I make the risk of his being murdered ten times greater. On the other hand, you and the lads here will want my help. My duty is with you."

Dost was consulted, and said warmly that it was impossible to get back into the city, and that two foot regiments and one of cavalry had marched into and occupied the place.

"And their English officers?" said Brace, excitedly.

"Don't ask me, sahib," said Dost, sadly. "It is too terrible; the people have gone mad against our masters, and the fire is spreading through the land."

The peculiarly stern look in Brace's countenance deepened as my Hindu servant went on.

"If the doctor sahib tried to get into the city again, he would be taken, and the budmashes of the bazaar would murder him. Lacey sahib will be quite safe and get well. We must not go again; it means death."

"There," said the doctor, "and I'm too busy to die yet, Brace; but pray go on eating and drinking, my dear boys; you must both be horridly faint. I prescribe food and rest."

"Right, doctor; we'll take your first remedy. But there is no rest. We start in an hour or less. We must make a short march before the sun gets too hot."

"You mean to keep to that mad idea of yours, then, about recapturing the guns?"

"Yes, mad as it is."

"Better try and join some of our men, where they are holding out, my dear boy. This is going to be a terrible business, and we must all row together and help one another."

"Yes," said Brace, "I am going to help; but I must have my guns first, and remount my men."

Then hastily finishing his rough breakfast, he rose and went off to give orders for an immediate start.

"Vincent, my lad," said the doctor, "we shall all be cut to pieces, I'm afraid."

"Our chances look very bad, I'm afraid," I replied.

"Hold your tongue, sir," cried the doctor. "You are not afraid of anything. I said I was, but I'm not a fighting man. We're in for it, and are going to do our duty. My great trouble is about poor Craig.

That man's a gentleman."

"Hist!" came from close by among the trees.

"Eh? who was that?"

"Only me, doctor--Craig."

"Bah! I had forgotten him. You heard?"

"Yes, sir," said the wounded sergeant faintly, as we went to his side, and he smiled up at me. "I heard you blacking my character behind my back. Never mind about the past. What about Sergeant Craig?"

"Well, what about him, sir? He's going to get better."