"They can't have got wind that you're back. What's that? Some of them already?" For Tinkles, suddenly leaping from her chair, darted out into the hall, barking shrilly and making a prodigious fuss. At the same time steps were heard on the verandah.

"That's Fleming," said Upward, recognising the voice--then going out into the hall. "Come in here, old chap. Well, what's the news?"

"There is some news, but--Hallo! Excuse me, Mrs Upward. Didn't know you were at tiffin."

"It's all right. We're just done. Get into that chair and have a 'peg'--and then we can hear the _kubbur_."

"Well, it's not very definite as yet," replied Fleming, subsiding into the chair indicated. "Thanks, Upward--only a small one, I've just had one at the club. They say--By the bye, didn't you come in from Mehriab yesterday?"

"Yes, of course. But why?"

"Was it all right?"

"Was what all right?"

"Why, the look of things?"

"We didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Jermyn and his niece and Campian came down with us to see us off. There was nothing wrong then.

But why? What do they suspect?"

"Dunlop had occasion to wire officially to the stationmaster at Mehriab yesterday afternoon and could get no reply. He kept on wiring, but it was no good."

"Maybe some _budmash_ has been playing gooseberry with the wire."

"Cutting it? No. The communication is quite all right with the stations next to Mehriab on either side."

"It was all right yesterday at Mehriab, for I sent a couple of wires myself," said Upward. "Perhaps the telegraph clerk is taken ill."

"It might be that of course. But there's a rumour flying around the bazaar this morning that Umar Khan has been raiding up the Kachin valley. What if he has stuck up Mehriab station to plunder the safe?"

Upward whistled.

"Yes--that might be," he said. "Only I wish he had done it while we were all there. I had two rifles and a shot gun and a six shooter. I think among us all--myself and Campian and old Jermyn and my two foresters--we'd have given Mr Umar Khan very particular what for. But what should bring him up to those parts? He was supposed to be making the other way when he cut up those two 'gharri-wallahs.'"

"I don't know. It's only bazaar rumour, mind."

"Now I think of it," went on Upward, "there did seem rather more than usual of the evil-looking _soors_ hanging about the platform. They'd all got tulwars too. By Jove--what if they were only waiting till the train had left to break out, and Ghazi the whole show? Oh, Lord! That puts things in a new light. There were enough of them to do it too."

Fleming looked grave. "Then what about your friend and the Jermyns?" he said.

"Heavens, yes. Perhaps the _soors_ waited until they had gone. Hallo, Miss Cheriton. What's the matter?"

For Nesta had gone as pale as death--looking as if she would faint dead away.

"It's nothing. I shall be all right again in a minute. Why do you suggest such horrible things?" she broke off quite angrily. "It is enough to upset one."

Both men looked foolish--and all stared. The outburst was so unlike her.

"Let's go and see if we can get at something definite," said Upward, jumping up. "Did you drive here, Fleming?"

"No--biked."

"All right I'll jump on mine and we'll spin round to McIvor's. He may have got _kubbur_ of sorts--but these Politicals are so dashed close."

A three minutes' spin along the level military road brought the two men to the Acting Political's. That official looked grave at sight of Upward. He guessed his errand--and at once handed him a telegram.

"This is the latest," he said.

It was a long message, but the substance of it was that on the arrival of the train due at Mehriab that morning at eleven, not a living soul was in sight, nor was any signal down. The engine-driver slowed down and advanced cautiously, when the fact of the ma.s.sacre became apparent.

Then they had been signalled by Colonel Jermyn and his niece, who were in a great state of horror and distress, and reported that their guest had been taken away as prisoner by the Ghazis. They and the Colonel's bearer were taken on to the next station beyond Mehriab, whence they would return to Shalalai by the afternoon train.

"What's going to be done about it?" said Upward.

"We've started a strong body of Police after them, and two troops of Sindh Horse are to follow," said the Political.

"Yes, and then they'll cut Campian's throat. In fact I wonder they didn't already. It looks as if they wanted him ransomed, and if so--by George--the way to do for him is to start dusting a lot of Police after them."

The Political was a man of few words. He shrugged his shoulders, and observed that the matter did not rest with him. He could give them all the information he had at his disposal, but that was all.

"This wants thinking out, Fleming," said Upward, as they were spinning along on their bicycles again. "What can be done? What the devil _can_ be done? As sure as they run those Ghazis close--then, goodnight to Campian. But Jermyn will be here this evening--then we shall get at the whole story."

The evening train arrived in due course, bringing with it the three survivors of the outbreak. The Ghazis had kept faith with them, and had retired, leaving them without further molestation. But the whole night had to be got through, and a very trying one it was, for they were not without fear lest some of the people in the neighbourhood, becoming affected with the contagion of bloodshedding, should come and complete what the Ghazis had left undone. Fortunately there was the _dak_ bungalow for them to retire to--and they were thus enabled to escape from the immediate proximity of the ghastly slaughter-house scenes which the platform, and indeed the railway station generally, presented. No further alarm however had come their way, and they had been picked up by the morning train, as detailed in the telegram.

They had come away, of course, with scarcely any luggage, but Upward's bungalow was elastic, and therein they were promptly installed. Vivien, now that the tension was relaxed, succ.u.mbed to a nervous reaction that prostrated her for days--and which, indeed, was not entirely due to the horrors she had gone through. The Colonel was loud on Campian's praises. But for him they would never have got out of the mess, by Jove, he declared. The fellow's coolness in venturing among those cut-throats was splendid--and so on. When he got back again in a week or two he would have some experiences, and he seemed the sort of fellow who was partial to experiences. Thus the Colonel. But Upward, listening, was not so easy in his mind. He hoped Campian would be back among them in a week or two, but--Heavens! what if he were not? The Marris were a savage lot, and these particular ones were a combination of Ghazi and brigand. He felt uneasy--most infernally uneasy--in which predicament he did two things--he sent for Bhallu Khan, and consulted long and oft with the authorities.

The latter were not so eager to fall in with his views as he considered they ought to be. It might be true, as he said, that aggressive action against Umar Khan would imperil the life of the hostage, but on the other hand, were they to sit supine for eight days, while that notorious ruffian raided and plundered and murdered at will all over the country.

The knot of the difficulty however was cut, as is frequently the case, by circ.u.mstances. Each movement against him, undertaken with great prompt.i.tude and spirit, resulted in failure, whereat Upward, and others interested in the fate of the hostage rejoiced. It was not likely that such a ruthless barbarian as Umar Khan was known to be, would allow his prisoner to be taken out of his hands alive--no, not for a moment-- whereas having kept faith so far he might do so until the end, especially if a handsome _baksheesh_ was added to the stipulated sum.

After that, the sooner he was caught and hanged the better.

Meanwhile the affair caused great excitement in the outlying parts, and not a little scare. Outlying shooting parties deemed it advisable to return and some of the railway employes on the lonely stations along the line--natives or Eurasians mostly--resigned their posts in panic, fearing lest a similar fate should overtake themselves. On the arrival of Bhallu Khan some news was gleaned, but not much. The Ghazis had hung about the Kachin valley for a day or two, and had looted the forest bungalow--refraining, however, from firing it. Then they seemed to have disappeared entirely, and if he had any sort of inkling of their probable destination, Bhallu Khan, a Baluchi himself, could not or would not reveal it.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

IN THE ENEMY'S HAND.

For a while the scowling barbarian contemplated Campian from under his s.h.a.ggy brows. Then he gave an order to his followers. There stepped forward a man. This fellow had a villainous cast of countenance and a squint. He was of mixed blood, being a cross between Baluch and Punjabi. He had been at one time a _chupra.s.si_ in a Government office, and talked English fairly well.

"Chief say--you know who he is?" he began.

"Can't say I do."

"Chief say--you ever see him before?"

"Can't be sure of that either. Yet, I have an idea I saw him once while having a friendly talk with the Sirdar Yar Hussain Khan."

At mention of the Sirdar's name, a faint show of interest seemed to come into the saturnine features of those around. Then the interpreter went on: