[6] It is needless perhaps to remind the reader that Nana Sahib, the Tiger of Cawnpore, was never captured, nor is it known how he met his end. It is supposed that he fled into the vast and miasmatic jungle, known as the Terai, where, deserted by his followers, broken-hearted and despised, he died a miserable death. CHAPTER XXX. NEW HOPES. To follow the fortune of two of the characters who have played conspicuous parts in this history, it is necessary to go back to the night of the day upon which General Wheeler vacated the Cawnpore entrenchments. Walter Gordon and Haidee, as previously stated, sought concealment in the ruins of an outbuilding that had been battered to pieces by the enemy’s shot. Here they managed to escape the vigilance of the marauders who swarmed in the defences after the English had gone. It was true that there was nothing worth plundering, but all that was movable in the shape of old iron and ammunition was carried off. Soon after the departure of the defenders, Haidee and Gordon were startled by the booming of a gun, and almost before the echo had died away, another followed, and another, until the firing became general. Walter’s heart almost stood still, for the sound told but too plainly that Haidee’s fears had been realised. As she heard the guns, she looked at her companion, and as her eyes filled with tears, she murmured-- “Your poor country people are being slaughtered.” “Alas! I am afraid it is so,” he answered; “may God pity them.” After a time the firing grew desultory, but it continued for hours, until Gordon became sick, as in his mind’s eye he pictured the awful work that was being carried on. And as he remembered by what a strange chance he had been prevented from accompanying the unfortunate people, he could not help thinking that a kind destiny had preserved him, and that happiness might come. And yet to think of happiness then seemed almost as great a mockery to him as the mirage of a beautiful lake does to the travellers dying of thirst in the arid desert. How could he hope for happiness? Deadly peril yet surrounded him. If his hiding-place should be discovered he and his companion would immediately fall a sacrifice to the yelling demons who were prowling about thirsting for blood. And even if he escaped from them, how could the hundred dangers that would encompass him be avoided? No wonder that as he reflected upon these things, he sank almost into the very apathy of despair. Haidee noticed the look of gloom that had settled on him. “Why are you so downcast?” she asked in a whisper. “I cannot help being so, Haidee. Our prospects seem so hopeless. And, after all, our preservation may only be a prolongation of our agony.” “You should not speak like that. We live, and with life there is always hope.” “True; but the hope cherished in extremity is more often than not a delusion.”