The Gurkhas did not understand the words, but they divined his meaning.

"Sahib," implored the subadar, "save me from these demons. I spared your life, so do not leave me to be murdered."

"You spared my life!" Tynan indignantly repeated. "You mean you brought me here to torture me."

"Sahib, you wrong me. I did but pretend. I had no influence over those three curs who lie dead--praised be Allah!--and they insisted on slaying you. They would have murdered me had I not feigned to fall in with their plans, and we must all safeguard our own lives first. But I meant to save you, and that is why I rejected their proposals as to the manner of death. I would have tied you to the tree, and, after giving them the slip in the darkness, would have returned to set you free."

"But you kicked me and spat upon me."

"That was to remove their suspicions. The more I seemed to hate you the more easy would it be to help you."

Not being a particularly intelligent youth, Tynan began to think there might be something in what the subadar said.

"Well, thou art my prisoner now, and for the present I will save thy life. Where is thy wound?"

"Indeed, sahib, I fear they have slain me."

Pir Baksh placed his hand to his leg and indicated the nature of the wound. One of the Gurkhas bent down, sliced off some of the cloth with his kukri, and burst out laughing.

"The _kafar_ (coward)!" he cried to his companions.

The bullet had grazed the rebel's thigh, tearing off a little strip of skin. Feeling the sharp sting, Pir Baksh had clapped his hand to the spot and drawn it away covered with blood. Concluding that he was done for, he had tumbled over and howled.

"Get up!" said Tynan brusquely. "You're not hurt."

Turning to the Gurkhas he motioned them to lead the way. Picking up the four muskets, the party set forth, the prisoner in the midst rendered very unhappy by the knowledge that a loaded musket was within a few inches of his backbone, and he dreaded carelessness on the part of the Gurkha. The precaution was unnecessary, for the roaring lion of half an hour ago was now as harmless as a dove.

An hour's walk brought them within sight of camp fires, and before long they had passed the sentries, and Tynan was in the commandant's tent. He was a small wiry man of about twenty-five, tough as whip-cord.

"Hullo!" he cried, holding a lantern above his head so that the light fell full upon Tynan's face. "Who are you?"

"Ensign Tynan of the 193rd. I've just been rescued from a gang of cut-throats by these two men of yours. They tackled four and killed three."

"Take the prisoner to the guard-tent."

The Gurkha saluted and retired, and the officer continued: "Now, Mr.

Tynan, you'll be hungry, so just fall to. If you'd come half an hour ago there would have been a better spread."

"I'm very hungry, thanks. What force is yours?"

"Oh, I beg your pardon! I'm Captain Hornby of the Kumaon Gurkha Battalion. I've a hundred men here, and we are _en route_ for Sadalpur.

We are expecting orders from John Lawrence--for Delhi, I hope. I won't listen to your tale until you've finished."

The meal over, the fugitive narrated his adventures since the outbreak of the mutiny until the moment of his rescue. When he came to the account of the explosion he hesitated, and finally said: "We decided to blow it up rather than allow it to fall into the hands of the rebels."

Ted Russell had also used the word "we", but from what different motives!

"You were senior officer?" questioned the captain.

"Yes."

"Good!" Hornby held out his hand. "I'm proud to shake hands with you. I heard a rumour yesterday that the Aurungpore arsenal had been blown up."

Harry Tynan felt ready to sink into the ground with shame. His hand fell limp from the grasp, and he hastily resumed his story.

"I can't make up my mind about Pir Baksh," he said. "He may have been only pretending to fall in with the views of the majority, but if so, he was a very good actor."

"You've had a rough time, youngster, so just lie down and sleep as well as you can. There's my mattress, and I'll get another. Good-night! I'm going the rounds."

The camp was astir soon after sunrise. Hornby asked how the ensign had slept, and explained that the two rescuers had informed him how they had tracked the party and followed them for nearly a mile, but had not been able to fathom their proceedings until they had seen the white skin.

Pir Baksh was conducted before Captain Hornby to be examined with regard to his share in the mutiny. Before any questions could be asked, the traitor drew forth the documents signed by Tynan, and handed them to the Gurkha officer.

"There, sahib, they will prove I am a true man. Tynan Sahib has reason, I admit, to doubt me, and I should have whispered my intentions to him as we ran away, had not my comrades kept close at hand all the time, being suspicious."

Captain Hornby read the papers, and regarded the ensign with a puzzled expression.

"This is your signature?" he asked; and Tynan, who was nervously toying with his sword-hilt, stammered an admission of the fact.

"H'm! It certainly seems that the fellow's story is true, though I don't like his looks. However, if he tried to save your lives and to restrain his comrades, it looks as if he really meant to be loyal, does it not?"

Tynan agreed that it did, and as he recollected how the treacherous subadar, now bowing and salaaming with an ingratiating smile, had shot down his colonel and helped to murder Lowthian, he cursed the lies he had signed. Yet he had not the moral courage to disavow them, and so lay himself open to the charge of cowardice.

"And of course," went on the captain, "of course he treated you badly in the house in order to allay the suspicions of his men, who might otherwise have murdered you. It was rough on you, but probably for the best."

Tynan acquiesced with a nod, and felt very uncomfortable. Hornby read for a second time the note added by Pir Baksh, and said:

"I see why you hesitated when you were speaking of the explosion, and I respect your modesty. So it was your plan to blow up the magazine, and no wonder he admired you for it. The other ensign was killed, I suppose?"

"Yes; I think I am the only one saved."

"Poor beggar! Well, you must stop with us until I can hand you and the prisoner to Colonel Bratherton at Jehanabad. These papers should certainly save him from death, and I should say that he deserves a reward."

Tynan looked utterly miserable, and there is no reason to doubt that he was. How he wished he had never signed that fatal paper! How he wished he had had the pluck to tell the whole story to Hornby last night, admitting that he was half-mad with pain and fear when he signed the statement! But no; he had lied to Hornby then, and had backed up the lie in the morning through cowardice, and the wretched boy now resolved that the easier course would be to stick to the lie. No one could contradict him now, except the subadar. As the thought occurred to him that Pir Baksh knew the truth, and that unless he, Tynan, was prepared to state on oath at the trial that was bound to take place, that the subadar had saved his life and attempted to save them all--unless he did that, the prisoner could and would ruin him, he groaned to himself and kicked viciously at the nearest object. One lie had led to another and yet another, and he had made a net for himself, from whose entanglement he saw no way of escape.

Yet, bad as the prospect seemed to him, he little guessed the real state of affairs.

And Pir Baksh understood as well as he. As this hopeful gentleman had been led back to the guard-tent he had winked slyly at the ensign, clearly intimating that they would stand or fall together. It was a sickening thought. Having had time to think it over, Tynan felt sure that Pir Baksh had meant to murder him, and he bitterly regretted having moved a finger to save him from the Gurkhas. He had not even the consolation of thinking that he had shown mercy to an enemy, for he had only saved him then in order to have him hanged.

Ten minutes later camp was struck, and they moved off towards Jehanabad.

CHAPTER XIV

The March of the Guide Corps