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."