Walter glanced about to see from which point the danger threatened him. Then he drew his revolver, and grasping it with the determination of an Englishman who would only sell his life at a great cost, he set his horse’s head back to Meerut. To return to Miss Meredith. Scarcely had Walter and her brother-in-law gone than she threw herself into a chair and burst into tears. “What for missy weeping?” said a voice behind her. On looking up, she beheld an old and faithful ayah, named Zeemit Mehal, who had been in her mother’s service for some time. “Ah, Zeemit,” she murmured, “I am so glad you are here. Mr. Gordon has gone out with Lieutenant Harper, and I am very lonely and nervous. I think I shall go up and see my sister; she will be dull now her husband is away.” “No, missy, you must not go,” answered Zeemit firmly. “And why must I not, Zeemit?” “Because there is great danger coming to your countrymen and women; and my love for you prompts me to save you.” She caught the old ayah by her skinny arm, and, in a voice choked with emotion, said-- “What do you mean, Mehal? If there is danger, does it not threaten my mamma and sister as well as me?” “Yes, but there is greater safety indoors; for every white man who shows himself, there are a hundred bullets waiting to pierce his heart.” Flora uttered a scream, and she clutched the skinny arm tighter, as if in that weak old woman she saw her only refuge. “Oh, Zeemit,” she cried, “if this is true, what will become of Walter?” “He is a brave man, miss, and may be able to get back here in safety. At any rate, do not alarm yourself unnecessarily. I will not desert you, and while I have life I will defend you. But in all things, miss, be guided by me.” The alarm that an outbreak was expected had spread now throughout the station, and it was determined not to hold service in the church, although the congregation had gathered. And so the clergyman, commending them to the care of Heaven, dismissed them with a blessing. As the people returned to their homes, there was a look of unwonted anxiety on the pale, scared faces. Sounds and sights greeted them on their way back that could not be misinterpreted. The unwonted rattling of musketry on the Sabbath evening; the sound of the bugles from all quarters, as they called to assembly; the hurrying to and fro of men armed to the teeth, and the panic-struck looks of the unarmed, all told of coming disaster. Presently columns of smoke rose up against the fast darkening sky, then blood-red flames leapt into the air, and the lurid glare soon spread the awful news, far and wide, that the native troops in Meerut had revolted.