It was a daring, desperate charge I felt, but the only thing Brace could do under the circumstances; and he must have cut his way through. He could not turn and retreat, for it would have looked like being afraid of the sowars; and surely, I thought, it was not in them to overcome our brave little troop even if they were ten times the number. Then, as I lay there, confused and troubled, a fresh thought struck me-- the firing? Yes, of course there was sharp firing; and I remembered now pretty clearly I was galloping away with troopers on each side. I must have been separated from my men in the desperate shock, and borne off by the foe as they retreated. Yes, of course, I thought, with growing excitement; they must have been retreating; and it was the colonel's regiment that was firing upon us as we fled. With these thoughts hope came back, and I could think no more, but dropped off into a deep sleep that was greatly like a swoon. My next recollection is of lying in that heated tent, feverish and thirsty, and the tall, grey-bearded doctor coming in to busy himself about me, and at every touch of his hand seeming to give me ease. Then I slept again, and slept--ah, how I must have slept, and dreamed of Brace being safe, and coming sooner or later to rescue me from that silent tent where I saw no one but the doctor and a couple of Hindu servants, who never answered any questions, only salaamed and left the tent if I spoke! Neither could I get any information from the doctor. All I knew grew from my own calculations, and these taught me that I was the prisoner of some great chief who seemed to be reserving me to exchange for some other prisoner, perhaps to act as a hostage in case he should happen to be captured. I could come to no other conclusion; for so far the custom had been for the revolted people to murder and mutilate every one who fell into their hands. I was lying there one afternoon, wondering where the tent could be, and why it was that everything was so silent about me. It was puzzling now that I was not quite so weak and feverish; for this could hardly be a camp in which I was a prisoner. If it had been, I should have heard the trampling of horses and the coming and going of armed men. Then I seldom heard voices, save those of the servants who came to attend upon me by the doctor's orders. But I knew one thing--the tent in which I was sheltered had been pitched under a great tree; for at certain times, when the sun was low, I saw the shadows of leaves and boughs upon the canvas; and when the wind blew sometimes at night, I had heard the rushing sound through the branches.