"No, sir, I would not. I should first have made conditions that before we marched out the sepoys must clear away and leave the streets clear for us, and I believe Pir Baksh could have induced them to agree, and I should have lighted a slow match as we left the place and run for it.

But Russell would not give me the chance of explaining, and he influenced the sepoys against me and closed the negotiations before I'd any chance of showing what I meant."

"Well, go on," said the colonel more kindly.

"Well, sir, I will say this for Russell, that he was very plucky, and at the end, when all was hopeless, he finished the powder-trail. Until then Ambar Singh and the others had not dreamt of my plans."

He broke off abruptly, and, as though suddenly enlightened, continued:

"I see it now! I dare say that Ambar Singh really did think that Russell alone was responsible. When it came to firing the powder I claimed the right to do it, but he had hold of the candle, and said he had taken over the command, that he'd deposed me, and he would do it. We had a bit of a scuffle, and he threatened me with a pistol. So he set the powder alight. But I claim that I was in command; it was my suggestion, and I laid most of the train, and therefore I should have the credit. I will say for Russell that he backed me up well, and was plucky. That's all I've got to say."

Woodburn and Munro were silent for some time. Tynan's tale was certainly plausible enough, and it seemed as if there might have been misunderstanding. Perhaps Ted had been too hasty in thinking that Tynan was willing to surrender unconditionally. Still, it was very strange that he had never mentioned that Tynan had first suggested the explosion, and that he had laid the train. Though, now they came to think of it, Ted had at first said "we". They had put it down to modesty, yet the words might have been correct. Could it be that when Ambar Singh had given his version, the temptation to take the credit to himself, now that he believed Tynan dead, had been too strong for the boy?

This was not like Ted, but in justice to Tynan they must admit that it was possible.

"We must consider your report, Tynan," said the major. "If any wrong has been done to you, we will try our best to get at the truth without any favouritism. Go and see to your men now. We dine in an hour."

"Well, Woodburn, what do you make of it?" he continued, when the ensign had departed.

"I can't make head or tail of it. There is evidently room for doubt, and it may have been as he says."

"I'm afraid I was hasty in sending off that recommendation for the V.C.," said Munro, "because if Tynan's tale is true, Ted will not be entitled to it."

"You'd better put that right at once," advised the colonel. "Write and explain that there is some doubt."

"I will at once. I hope the letter may be received before anything has been said to Ted. It would be cruel to raise the lad's hopes."

"I don't believe a word of what Tynan has said," Ethel declared. "I'm sure he was lying. I was watching his eyes all the time, and there was no truth in them."

"It may be so, but I must write," said Munro.

For a long time the major wrestled with pen and paper before he composed a letter to his satisfaction. The contents we already know, and how they dashed Ted's hopes to the ground. The missive sealed, the colonel observed:

"I suppose we can trace Havildar Ambar Singh? His evidence will be wanted."

Ambar Singh had returned to his home in Merwar. The 193rd had been disbanded, and the few who remained loyal had been drafted into the newly-raised corps. But the havildar was not in a fit condition to endure the strain of a campaign, so he had gone home to recruit his health. However, they thought they knew where to find him.

"We can hold no enquiry," said the major, "until Delhi has fallen and Ted is free again, and the case ought certainly to be tried before officers other than those of the 193rd. We are hardly impartial, our sympathies being with Ted. Luckily Dwarika Rai is still here, and he may throw some light on the subject."

For Dwarika Rai, the fourth survivor of Lowthian's handful, had been promoted to the rank of havildar, and was now employed in drilling the raw material and teaching them the beauties of the goose-step.

"I'll drive Ethel home," said the colonel, "and come back presently with Sir Arthur, and we'll examine Dwarika Rai."

When the Woodburns had gone, Tynan returned to dine with Munro and Leigh. The colonel and the deputy-commissioner entered as the officers were smoking after their meal, and Dwarika Rai was sent for.

The Rajput entered the room, and in the act of saluting started back on beholding Tynan, who also gave a start and rose to his feet.

"Why!" he gasped, for no warning had been given him, "what is he doing here? I thought only Russell and I and Ambar Singh were saved."

Dwarika Rai still stood open-mouthed as though he had seen a ghost.

"He also was saved," explained the major. "Dwarika Rai, it is indeed Tynan Sahib."

"I am rejoiced to see him, for I thought he was dead," said the soldier simply.

"We wish to recall to your memory some of the events that took place in the fortress when you were attacked," Munro began. "Didst thou notice the part taken by Pir Baksh during the fighting? Was he a ringleader?"

"Indeed, sahib, I'm not sure. Russell Sahib and Ambar Singh considered him so, but I could not help thinking that he wished us well. He seemed to fire without aiming, and never hit anyone, and I verily believe that he wished to save our lives. But the others would not trust him, and perhaps they were right."

Munro and the colonel looked at one another.

"Your opinion, then, was that he had been forced to rebel?"

"I thought it might be so, Colonel Sahib; in fact, once after the firing had been hot, Bisesar Singh whispered to me that the heart of Pir Baksh was not in the affair. When I asked him why, he replied that the subadar had covered him with his musket, and then winked at him and fired high.

Yet sometimes he appeared to lead the dogs; but perhaps that was to divert suspicion, perhaps he had to feign to be as faithless as themselves whenever they were watching him."

"That is probable enough," Sir Arthur whispered to his colleagues.

"Under the circumstances I can quite understand a man doing that."

"Yes, so can I," the colonel agreed. "Ted and Ambar Singh might easily have been mistaken, and have misjudged him."

When Leigh had finished recording the evidence, Major Munro asked Tynan to retire for a few moments. He then questioned Dwarika Rai as to who laid the powder train.

"Russell Sahib, I think," was the reply.

"Did you notice Tynan Sahib enter the magazine?"

"Yes, sahib, before they battered the door in. He was away some time, and I wondered why."

The major turned to his colleagues and observed in English:

"Tynan's tale is true so far;" and the others nodded assent.

"Tell us, then," asked Leigh, "is it true that Tynan Sahib tried to prevent Russell Sahib firing the train?"

"In short," said the deputy-commissioner, "did Ensign Tynan act as an officer or as a coward?"

"Nay," the man earnestly replied, "I do not like Tynan Sahib overmuch, greatly preferring Russell Sahib, but he was not a coward. He was very much excited, as we all were, and he tried to snatch the candle from his comrade's hand. But I thought they were contesting who should light the train, as if it matters who did it. The important thing is that it was done."

The Englishmen whispered together, and presently Munro said: "You may go, Dwarika Rai."

"I must say," began Colonel Woodburn, "his evidence confirms Tynan's in every important respect. I'm afraid we've done the lad a serious injustice."

"Yet his account differs from Russell's in point of actual fact, not merely in the interpretation put upon facts," the deputy-commissioner argued.

"Ted was probably excited, and the shock may have temporarily affected his memory," Leigh suggested.

"Ted is certainly to blame," said Munro. "He may easily have mistaken Tynan's excitement for terror."

Said Leigh: