quarters of the fort, whither the colonel was wont to resort daily to talk over the latest rumours and reports. Munro and Leigh were lamenting their fate, tied down to police and depot duty, when they wanted to be up and doing before Delhi.

"I am sending a draft to Delhi to-morrow," said the major, "and there's a new batch of recruits due to-day--raw peasants, who must be polished up."

"It is rough on us being shut up here," said Leigh, "drilling and training the raw material, and as soon as they are soldiers, comes an order from John Lawrence saying, 'How many can you send to Delhi?'

Still, if we were not here, there'd soon be a rumpus again."

"How many do you send off to-morrow?" the colonel asked.

"A hundred; all Sikhs, and fine men too. They go to Lahore first to be inspected by Sir John, and then they join other detachments going to Delhi.---- Well, what is it?"

An orderly had entered.

"The draft has arrived, sahib."

"Very good. Send the officer in charge to me."

Who should enter the room but Ensign Tynan? The four occupants started to their feet. They had not heard of his escape from death, and firmly believed he had been blown to pieces, his body never having been found, for the best of reasons. Tynan was white, and looked ill both in body and mind, and he trembled from head to foot.

"Tynan! Can it be possible, my lad?" cried Colonel Woodburn, holding out his hand. "I never thought to see you again."

Tynan saluted his colonel, and bowed to Ethel. He hesitated, however, and his face flushed as she stepped forward with outstretched hand to greet him. Stammering some more or less appropriate reply, he sat down in a palpable and inexplicable state of nervousness.

In reply to the shower of questions, he told the story of his rescue.

Not the true story, but one he had had plenty of time to fabricate, and had repeated over and over again to himself in readiness for the dread moment. He was committed now to the statements contained in that detestable document--the trap set for him by the unscrupulous Pir Baksh.

The paper had passed from hand to hand, from one officer to another, and he would have to attest its truth before Colonel Woodburn and Major Munro. No wonder he was agitated. Before strangers he had repeated the lie with comparative calmness and confidence, but the officers of the 193rd knew both Russell and himself too well, and he had little doubt whom they would be most ready to believe.

He had only recently heard that Ted and the two sepoys had also been saved from destruction, and he did not know what account of the incident Ted had given to the world, neither was he aware that his cowardice had been reported by Ambar Singh.

He told the story of his escape with unusual caution and deliberation, and painted in more glowing colours the services rendered by Pir Baksh, to whom he gave credit for risking his life in order to save Tynan's.

His audience opened their eyes, and Munro interposed:

"But Russell distinctly stated that Pir Baksh was one of the ringleaders."

"So he appeared to be, sir, but he was forced to play that role. He tried to save us in the fort, but Russell would not trust him. I felt sure that he was genuine, and was doing his best to hold the others back."

"Oh, indeed!" said the major drily; "yet Russell informed us that you told him and Lowthian that you saw Pir Baksh shoot the colonel."

"Russell told you that, sir!" Tynan replied with an air of great surprise. "He must have misunderstood me completely."

Tynan had forgotten his unlucky remark, and bitterly he repented the cowardice that had landed him in this net. It was the old story of the first easy lie that had to be supported and buttressed by innumerable untruths.

"Not Pir Baksh, sir," he continued hastily. "It was Abdul Din who shot Colonel Woodburn. I think I see how it was. When they were attacking us, Abdul Din stood by the side of Pir Baksh, and when I pointed, saying, 'That's the fellow who fired the shot!' they must have thought I meant Pir Baksh."

"Oh!"

His hearers hardly knew what to think. Tynan's tale was plausible enough, and Ted might easily have been mistaken. Perhaps after all Pir Baksh had been judged too hastily, and had been less of a scoundrel than they had imagined. He had always seemed a friendly fellow, apparently proud of his regiment.

"And after your rescue by the Gurkhas?" asked Colonel Woodburn.

"I had the fever for at least a fortnight, sir. My first thought when I heard that Aurungpore was saved was to report myself, and I received orders from Colonel Bratherton at Jehanabad to take Pir Baksh with me, as an investigation of his conduct must be held by his C.O. We were to have accompanied the 49th Punjabis, but at the last moment they were ordered to Delhi, so I was told to wait for this draft and bring them here."

"I suppose," asked Colonel Woodburn "that some enquiry was held, considering the suspicious conduct of Pir Baksh at the moment of your rescue?"

"Yes, sir;" and Tynan's agitation increased. "I have to hand you the statement signed by the officer whose men rescued me, and of course the subadar's character must be cleared."

He handed various documents to the major, and broke into a perspiration as he anticipated the coming amazement, incredulity, and growing suspicion. He hated Ethel Woodburn for being there, and would have given anything to have induced her to leave.

It was surely by the irony of fate that Tynan, being in command of the draft, was also responsible for the safe custody of Pir Baksh, whose final disappearance he longed and prayed for. The Moslem had tried hard to find some excuse for slipping away, but Captain Hornby had kept him under arrest, and so had Colonel Bratherton, both having their own opinion of the fellow's loyalty. Pir Baksh was no more anxious to be off than was Tynan to rid himself of his "old man of the sea".

In fact the subadar of the 193rd was having a less anxious time than his accomplice, for he still hoped, by force of lying, to pull through the enquiry. He reflected that in all probability he had not been recognized by anyone except Russell, who was at Delhi, having been more concerned with the attacks on the fort than with those on the house, and neither he nor Tynan were aware that Ambar Singh and Dwarika Rai had been saved.

Of course the budmashes of Aurungpore would know the part he had played, but they would say nothing for fear of incriminating themselves.

Major Munro first read through Colonel Bratherton's covering letter and looked hard at Tynan, who was sitting in profound contemplation of his boots, and boorishly repelling the friendly advances made by Ethel.

Munro then read Hornby's report of the rescue, and finally the remarkable papers signed by Tynan and Pir Baksh. Colonel Woodburn, watching him narrowly, saw that the major was striving hard to overcome some strong emotion. The contents mastered, he handed the documents to his former colonel without a word.

"I don't believe a word of it," said the latter, throwing the papers on the table.

Tynan flushed.

"My word should be as good as Russell's," he muttered; "but he was always in favour, and you were always down on me."

"It has been your fault, Tynan," said the major mildly, "if we have had a higher opinion of Russell than of you. Russell said nothing about this affair, and gave you as much credit as himself, until Ambar Singh told us the whole story."

This was another blow for Tynan, for he had not heard that Ambar Singh was to be reckoned with. He was becoming more and more entangled in the meshes.

"Ambar Singh?" said he after a moment's hesitation. "I expect he did it to curry favour by praising Russell."

It was now Ethel's turn to flush. She was on the point of expressing a very decided opinion, when a look from her father checked the words. It was no business of hers at present.

"That is not very likely, Tynan," the major replied. "To speak plainly, this won't wash with us, though it may do for strangers who know nothing about the matter. You've had fever, and you've imagined all this and forgotten what really happened."

Tynan heartily wished that this had been the case, and the colonel pointed out that the document was signed before the fever, not after.

"But I expect the poor fellow was raving," said Munro, "after the shock and the blow on his head."

"It's perfectly true," Tynan vehemently asserted as the major's words gave him an idea. Dull though he was, like many foolish people he had a certain amount of cunning.

"Why should it not be true?" he continued. "I don't wish to say anything against Ted Russell, but I don't see why he should have the credit that's due to me."

"Tell us, then," suggested Colonel Woodburn, "what really did happen in the fort, and when the idea of blowing up the magazine first occurred to you."

"As soon as we got inside," Tynan doggedly answered, "I whispered to Russell that perhaps we should be reduced to that. I whispered, because I did not wish the Rajputs to suspect. Then during one of the quiet intervals I slipped away and laid a trail of powder from the magazine to the door of the room we were holding. I didn't carry it farther, for the same reason--fear of our sepoys' terror."

Tynan had now completely abandoned himself to the father of lies, and he went on recklessly.

"When Pir Baksh offered to save our lives I felt convinced that he really wished to help us. Russell and I quarrelled because he would not trust him."

"Then you admit that you would have surrendered the stores and munitions had it not been for Russell?" the colonel coldly remarked.