“Yes, I was thinking of that myself,” Wilson replied. “If the Nana could not be bound by the oath he had taken himself, he is not likely to respect the agreement made here.” “We must pass the place at night,” Bathurst said, “and trust to not being seen. Even if they do make us out, we shan’t be under fire long unless they follow us down the bank; but if the night is dark, they may not make us out at all. Fortunately there is no moon, and boats are not very large marks even by daylight, and at night it would only be a chance shot that would hit us.” “Yes, we should be as difficult to hit as a tiger,” the Doctor put in. Wilson laughed. “I have gained a lot of experience since then, Doctor. What ages that seems back! Years almost.” “It does indeed,” the Doctor agreed; “we count time by incidents and not by days. Well, I think I shall turn in.. Are you coming, Bathurst?” “No, I could not sleep,” Bathurst said; “I shall watch till morning. I feel sure it is all safe, but the mutineers might attempt something.” The night, however, passed off quietly, and soon after daybreak eight bullock carts were seen approaching, with a strong body of Oude men. Half an hour later the luggage was packed, and the sick and wounded laid on straw in the wagons. Several of the ladies took their places with them, but Mrs. Doolan, Isobel, and Mary Hunter said they would walk for a while. It had been arranged that the men might carry out their arms with them, and each of the ten able to walk took their rifles, while all, even the women, had pistols about them. Just as they were ready, Por Sing and several of the Zemindars rode up on horseback. “We shall see you to the boats,” he said. “Have you taken provisions for your voyage? It would be better not to stop to buy anything on the way.” This precaution had been taken, and as soon as all was ready they set out, guarded by four hundred Oude matchlock men. The Sepoys had gathered near the house, and as soon as they left it there was a rush made to secure the plunder. “I should have liked to have emptied the contents of some of my bottles into the wine,” the Doctor growled; “it would not have been strictly professional, perhaps, but it would have been a good action.” “I am sure you would not have given them poison, Doctor,” Wilson laughed; “but a reasonable dose of ipecacuanha might hardly have gone against your conscience.” “My conscience has nothing to do with it,” the Doctor said. “These fellows came from Cawnpore, and I have no doubt took part in the massacre there. My conscience wouldn’t have troubled me if I could have poisoned the whole of the scoundrels, or put a slow match in the magazine and blown them all into the air, but under the present conditions it would hardly have been politic, as one couldn’t be sure of annihilating the whole of them. Well, Miss Hannay, what are you thinking of?” “I am thinking that my uncle looks worse this morning, Doctor; does it not strike you so too?”