"My lord will not slay his servant," he cried in a trembling voice in his own tongue. "He has done no harm." "Come out," cried Brace in Hindustani. "Why were you hiding there?" "Thy servant was afraid that the white sahib would slay him." "What are you doing here?" "Thy servant was too old to go when the budmashes came, and all the others fled away." "Where are the budmashes now?" "Thy servant knoweth not. They all rode off with the great guns directly it began to grow dark to-night." "Put up your sword, Gil," said Brace. "The poor old fellow is frightened out of his wits." Then, turning to the old Hindu-- "Is there no one left in the village?" "No, sahib. They have all fled but me." Brace was silent for a few minutes, and then he said sharply-- "Look here, old man, you can walk?" "Yes, sahib, a little way; not very far." "Gil," said Brace, thoughtfully, "he could walk well enough to guide us back to the tope. The doctor will be back by now, and anxious. Shall I make him do it?" "No," I said excitedly. "He may see some of the mutineers afterwards, and tell them we are following." "Of course. No, he must not know; and I suppose we must not kill him in cold blood to keep him from telling tales." "Brace!" I cried, but he only smiled, and, turning to the Hindu-- "Get water," he said. "We are thirsty." The old man went to a corner of the room, trembling in every limb, and taking a brass lotah from where it was hidden, he went out of the place into the darkness. "Do you think he is treacherous?" I whispered, "and will bring back others?" "No. The old man is honest enough, Gil. There, lie down on that charpoy." "But you?" I said. "I shall lie down too. Go to sleep after you have had some water. I will keep watch till daybreak." Just then the old man came back with the brass vessel full of clear, cold water, and handed to Brace. "I hope the old fellow has not poisoned it," he said. "I'll taste it first, Gil," and he raised the vessel to his lips, took a hearty draught, and then handed it to me. "Pure water," he said; and I gladly partook of the refreshing draught, while Brace felt in his pocket for a coin. "There," he said, taking out a rupee, "that's as much as his lotah is worth. I don't know for certain, but I expect he will consider that we have denied his vessel, and will throw it away when we are gone." "Then why doesn't he think the rupee is defiled?" I said, as the old man received the coin with a salaam, and then hid it in the folds of his turban. "Can't say," replied Brace, making the bamboo bedstead creak as he threw himself down. "Here, grandfather," he continued in the old man's native tongue, "keep watch, and warn us if there is any danger. Your caste will not let you betray those within your house." "The sahibs are quite safe here," he replied. "There is no one in the village but their servant. But I will watch."