“That is so,” answered Martin. “But I do not think my time has come yet, seeing that I have escaped from twenty deaths already. I was one of the defenders of the magazine until our lion-hearted commander ordered it to be blown up. I managed to escape the fiery storm, and crept into a cavernous hollow formed by a mass of fallen masonry. I must have been there some hours, for, when I awoke from a sound sleep, I was ravenously hungry, and, at all hazards, determined to creep out of my hole and seek for food. It was quite dark, and I groped about amongst the ruins until I reached the road leading to the Palace. I walked for some distance, until a voice asked where I was going to. The voice belonged to this woman, who had just emerged from one of the private gates leading to the Palace grounds. At first I thought she was an enemy, and I drew my revolver, which I had been fortunate enough to retain, although it was unloaded. Still, an unloaded weapon, I thought, was quite enough for a woman. ‘Who are you?’ I asked, ‘and why do you stop my way?’ ‘I am a friend, and I wish to save you,’ she answered. I could not be mistaken in those tones, I thought. They were too gentle, too kind, to belong to an enemy. And so, returning my weapon to my belt, I extended my hand to her, and said, ‘I trust myself entirely to you; lead me where you like.’ ‘I will lead you to safety, and to a countryman of yours, who is dear to me,’ she answered. And here I am.” Haidee had remained silent during Martin’s speech. Her head was bent and her arms folded. Harper crossed to where she stood, and took her hands. The scarlet flush of morn was in the sky, and as it tinged her beautiful face, he saw that her brows were knit, and her teeth set, as if in anger. “Haidee,” he said gently, “words cannot thank you for what you have done; I am already heavily indebted to you. How can I discharge that debt?” “I need no thanks,” she answered. “Haidee is true to her promise; but my heart is heavy, for he who should have come with me now is gone.” “Do you refer to Moghul Singh?” asked Harper, in some astonishment, and not without a slight feeling of pleasure. For, though Singh was a double-dyed traitor, Harper did not like the thought of having to act the part of a private assassin. “To whom else should I refer?” “How comes it then that he has gone?” “He has gone by order of the King.” “Ah! is that so? Where has he gone to?” Harper queried in alarm, for the thought occurred to him that the man had departed to convey the signal for a rising in some other place. “He has gone to Cawnpore.” “To Cawnpore!” “Yes, and for Haidee’s sake you must follow him.” “Nay, that cannot be,” Harper answered, with ill-concealed alarm. “Cannot be--cannot be!” she repeated, in astonishment, and drawing herself up until their eyes met. “Are my wrongs, then, so soon forgotten?”