“But are you not wrong in supposing that the Nana Sahib is false? He has ever proved himself a courteous and kindly gentleman to the English, and I am impressed with the idea that at the present moment Cawnpore is a safe refuge.” “Dismiss all such ideas,” she answered, with energy. “Do you judge the nature of a leopard by the beauty of his spots? I tell you, that in all the Indian jungles there stalks not a tiger whose instincts are more savage, or whose thirst for blood is more intense, than this smooth-faced, smiling Nana Sahib. Ever since the return of his agent, Azimoolah, from England, whose mission to your Queen failed, the Nana has cherished in his heart an undying hatred for your race. Often has he visited this city in disguise to confer with the King, and for years they have been organising this revolt. I tell you that Nana Sahib is a demon, capable of performing deeds that the world would shudder at.” “This is strange and startling news, Haidee,” cried Harper, in astonishment, “and doubly justifies my journey to Cawnpore. The division is commanded by one of the Company’s Generals, Sir Hugh Wheeler, and I shall consider it my duty to apprise him of the treacherous nature of the Nana. I appeal to you, comrade,” he said, turning to Martin, “and shall be glad of your advice.” Martin was a man of few words. He had proved his reticence by refraining from taking any part in the conversation between Haidee and Harper. “Go,” was the monosyllabic answer. “Good. And you?” “I will, when once outside of these walls, make my way to Meerut.” “Excellent idea,” cried Harper, as a new thought struck him. “You can not only report me, but render me a personal service. My wife is stationed there; visit her, and inform her of my safety.” “I will make that a duty. But what is your name?” “Charles Harper, lieutenant in the Queen’s ---- regiment. And yours?” “James Martin, late engineer in the Delhi Arsenal, now a homeless, penniless waif, saved from an appalling storm of fire, but everything I possessed in the world lost through the destruction of the magazine.” “But you yourself saved for some good end, Mr. Martin,” Harper replied, as he took his hand and shook it warmly. “Saved so far,” joined in Haidee; “but there are terrible risks yet to run before you are safe. When darkness has fallen I will endeavour to guide you clear of the city--till then, farewell. I must hurry away now, or I may be missed.” She caught the hand of Harper and pressed it to her lips, and, bidding Martin adieu, was soon speeding through the avenue of banyan trees towards the Palace, and the two men were left to discuss the situation alone. CHAPTER XII. WAKING DREAMS. To Harper and Martin it was weary waiting through that long day. They dozed occasionally, but suspense and anxiety kept them from enjoying any lengthened or sound sleep.