around his neck, and would not let him go until--remembering she was a soldier’s wife--she released him with a blessing, and bade him go where duty called. And as he remembered this he put up a silent prayer to the Great Reader of the secrets of all hearts that he might be strengthened in his purpose, and never swerve from the narrow way of duty and honour. The dreams of the dreamers were broken. The visionary was displaced by the reality, and Haidee stood before them. She had come up so stealthily that they had not heard her approach. Nor would they have been conscious that she was there if she had not spoken, for the darkness revealed nothing, and even the stars were getting fewer as the clouds gathered. “Are you ready?” she asked, in a low tone. “Yes, yes,” they both answered, springing from their seats, and waking once more to a sense of their true position. “Take this,” she said, as she handed Harper a large cloak to hide his white shirt, for it will be remembered that his uniform had been stripped from him. “And here is a weapon--the best I could procure.” She placed in his hand a horse-pistol and some cartridges. “Let us go; but remember that the keenest vigilance is needed. The enemy is legion, and death threatens us at every step.” Harper wrapped the cloak round him, and, loading the pistol, thrust it into his belt. “I am ready,” he said. She drew close to him. She took his hand, and bringing her face near to his, murmured-- “Haidee lives or dies for you.” The silent trio went out into the darkness of the night. Heavy rain-drops were beginning to patter down. The wind was gaining the strength of a hurricane. Then the curtain of the sky seemed to be suddenly rent by a jagged streak of blue flame, that leapt from horizon to horizon, and was followed by a crashing peal of thunder that reverberated with startling distinctness. “Fortune is kind,” whispered Haidee; “and the storm will favour our escape.” Scarcely had the words left her lips than a shrill cry of alarm sounded close to their ears, and Harper suddenly found himself held in a vice-like grip. CHAPTER XIII. FOR LIBERTY AND LIFE. The cry of alarm that startled the fugitives came from a powerful Sepoy, and it was his arms that encircled Harper. “Traitorous wretch!” said the man, addressing Haidee; “you shall die for this. I saw you leave the Palace, and, suspecting treachery, followed you.” And again the man gave tongue, with a view of calling up his comrades. He had evidently miscalculated the odds arrayed against him. Martin was a few yards in front, but realising the position in an instant, sprang back to the assistance of his companion. Then ensued a fierce struggle. The man was a herculean fellow, and retained his hold of Harper. Martin was also powerful, but he could not get a grip of the Sepoy, who rolled over and over with the officer, all the while giving vent to loud cries.