The sun was high before Bathurst woke. Rujub had lighted a fire, and was boiling some rice in a lota. “Where is Miss Hannay?” Bathurst asked, as he sat up. “She has gone down to the river with Rabda. The trees hang down well over the water, and they can wash without fear of being seen on the opposite shore. I was going to wake you when the lady got up, but she made signs that you were to be allowed to sleep on.” In half an hour the two girls returned. Isobel was attired in a native dress, and her face, neck, arms, feet, and ankles had been stained to the same color as Rabda’s. She came forward a little timidly, for she felt strange and uncomfortable in her scanty attire. Bathurst gave an exclamation of pain as he saw her face. “How dreadfully, you have burnt yourself, Miss Hannay; surely you cannot have followed the instructions I gave you.” “No; it is not your fault at all, Mr. Bathurst; I put a great deal more on than you said, but I was so anxious to disfigure myself that I was determined to do it thoroughly; but it is nothing to what it was. As you see, my lips are getting all right again, and the sores are a good deal better than they were; I suppose they will leave scars, but that won’t trouble me.” “It is the pain you must have suffered that I am thinking of,” he replied. “As to the scars, I hope they will wear out in time; you must indeed have suffered horribly.” “They burnt dreadfully for a time,” the girl answered; “but for the last two or three days I have hardly felt it, though, of course, it is very sore still.” “Do you feel ready for breakfast, Miss Hannay?” “Quite ready, and for a walk as long as you like afterwards. I feel quite another creature after my dip. That was one of the worst things in the prison. We had scarcely water enough to drink, and none to wash with, and, of course, no combs nor anything.” They sat down together and ate the cold food they had brought, while Rabda and her father made their breakfast of rice. “What has become of Mr. Wilson?” Isobel asked suddenly. “I wondered about him as I was being carried along last night, but I was too tired to talk afterwards.” “I hope he is either safe at Allahabad by this time, or is with the troops marching up. The Zemindar’s son, who came down with us as an escort, and one of his men got safely to shore also, and they went on with Wilson. When he found I was going to stay at Cawnpore to try and rescue you, he pleaded very hard that I should keep him with me in order that he might share in the attempt, but his ignorance of the language might have been fatal, and his being with me would have greatly added to the difficulty, so I was obliged to refuse him. It was only because I told him that instead of adding to, he would lessen your chance of escape, that he consented to go, for I am sure he would willingly have laid down his life to save yours.”