"Chupatties? The little cakes?"

"Yes, sahib, and that was a sign. A messenger went to the head man of a village, and gave him six little cakes of Indian corn. 'These are for you,' he said. 'You will make six more, and send them on to the next village.' This the head man did, and the cakes pa.s.sed on from village to village, as a sign that the rising was to take place, and all were to be ready when the time came."

"But it seems so stupid," I said. "Why not have sent a messenger?"

"The cause was too great to risk anything. It was more mysterious to send like that. They knew what it meant; but if the collector or the police heard, and said, 'What is this?--ye are plotting against your lords;' they could reply, 'No, it is nothing; the head man of the next village has only sent me a few chupatties.' Who else would think it was a secret sign?"

I knew comparatively little about the people then, and the question seemed to me unanswerable.

I rode on, depressed and thoughtful, for a terrible idea had taken root in my breast. These people of Arbagh had been surprised, and, saving a few who had escaped, murdered without mercy, and with horrible indignities. Suppose there had been such a sudden rising at Nussoor, where my father's regiment was stationed, what of my mother and my sister Grace?

A cold perspiration broke out all over me, and a mist rose before my eyes, through which the horrors that had taken place at Arbagh rose out, at first dimly, and then clearer and clearer; but with those I loved as victims, and I was shuddering with horror, and so wrapped up in my own thoughts, that I did not notice that Brace had ridden up alongside, and he had gripped my arm before I knew he was there.

"Why, Gil, lad," he said sharply, "what is it? The sun? Come, I can't afford to have you ill."

"Ill?" I gasped. "No, I'm not ill."

"Then why do you look so strange?"

I made an effort to recover myself, and told him as calmly as I could all that Dost had said to me.

"Yes," he said, after hearing me patiently to the end, "the man is honest enough; and there must have been some such mystic message sent round. These people are believers in symbolism and parable. It is bad news, Gil, and I am afraid too true. The rebellion is widespread; but what of that? We must put it down. England is not going to have her great conquests wrenched from her hands like this."

"Put it down?" I faltered.

"Yes, man. If you and I and a trumpeter could do such a thing as we did at a hint from our brave sergeant yonder, don't you think that the many regiments of Englishmen here in India, with all our magnificent troops of horse artillery, moved by the combined brain-power of our most gallant officers, will be able to restore order through the country?"

"Yes, I suppose so," I said, but in an unconvinced tone of voice.

"You are getting hungry, Gil, my lad," he said merrily. "You will not be depressed like this when we have halted at Arbagh, scattered those dogs, and had a good meal. For we must fight first," he cried fiercely.

"Gil," he said, sinking his voice, "I was never meant for a soldier-- this blood-shedding is abhorrent to me. I shrink from using my sword; but since I have heard the horrors these wretches are perpetrating-- slaying English ladies, murdering sweet innocent children, my nerves thrill as I grasp my blade, and I feel as if I would gladly aim every gun, and send the grape and canister hurtling amongst the hounds--no, it is an insult to a dog to call them so--these savage, bloodthirsty tigers. Come, lad, you must set aside compunction, and be ready to strike--for you can."

"You do not understand me," I said sadly.

"Oh yes, I think I do, Gil. I have studied you pretty well. You were thinking that we shall be beaten, after listening to Dost's account of the rising at this town. Ah, if I had only known of this when we met that regiment of sowars! Why, Gil, they _must_ be the scoundrels who murdered their European officers here."

"I'm afraid so," I said.

"Then we must strike, and strike hard now, Gil. I am not unmerciful, but for the sake of home, and our English kindred, we must be stern as well as just. Come, you are better already."

"No," I said gloomily, "I am horribly troubled."

"About what?"

"Nussoor."

"Ah! where your father's regiment is stationed?"

"Yes. My mother and sister are there. Oh, Brace, if my father has been surprised as these people were here, and--"

I stopped short--the words choked me.

"My dear Gil!" cried Brace, gently, "I see now. Yes; such thoughts are enough to chill any one. I had not thought of them. But come, come; we have enough to do to fight with real troubles. You must not build up imaginary ones. Your father is a good soldier, I have heard, and his regiment is noted for its discipline. Let us trust that he has not been surprised, but had warnings of the trouble to come, and has placed your mother and sister and the other ladies of his station in safety."

"Thank you," I said quietly, for his words were comforting; and I knew that my trouble was imaginary.

"Hah, that's better!" he cried. "Come, we must be getting near the town."

We were pa.s.sing through a wooded part of the country now, the road being cut in several places through patches of forest; and scouts and flankers were sent out to make sure against surprise, as we were getting so near the enemy's lair.

Ten minutes later there was an alarm in front, shouts and the clashing of swords, and in a wonderfully short time a couple of guns were unlimbered and ready for action, while Haynes was sent forward to support our men as they were out of sight beyond the trees, and did not return.

But before Haynes had gone far, he met them coming back, to report that they had surprised a picket of half a dozen sowars who were watching our road.

"And you let them gallop off," cried Brace, angrily, "to alarm their comrades?"

"No, sir," said the corporal, who was at the head of the advance; "we went at 'em directly."

"How many got back?"

"None on 'em, sir."

"Anybody hurt?"

"No, sir. Scratch or two on the horses' heads and necks; that's all."

The orders were given to limber up again, and we advanced once more, as soon as the farriers had roughly seen to the injuries the horses had received; and as we went on, I caught a glimpse or two of the white uniforms and puggrees of the sowars in amongst the trees to right and left, the broken-down twigs and herbage showing where the running fight had taken place.

Brace reined up by one of the dead men.

"Why, Gil," he said, "this must be the same regiment as the one we met."

I was thinking the same, and said so.

"The scoundrels! If we could only surprise them. We are so weak in numbers, I hardly dare leave my guns; otherwise, with a troop of our lads to act as cavalry, I could pretty well cut them up, and scatter the rest, so that they would not do much more mischief for months to come."

"Hush!" I whispered, as I caught his arm. "What's that?"

"The first gun b.u.mping over bad ground and rattling."

"No; it's firing," I whispered, though the sound must have been a mile away.

"Yes; you are right. What is going on now? some fresh outrage?"

Our pace was increased, and orders given to the advance-guard to increase their distance ahead.

The firing grew fiercer, and a halt was called, the guns took up position, and we waited full of anxiety for news from the scouts sent out.