From gate to gate, from guard to guard, the signal passed, and soon a hundred torches were flaring in the wind; there were confusion and commotion, and much rushing to and fro, but nobody exactly seemed to know what it was all about, only that someone had escaped. A few shots were fired--why, was a mystery--and even a big gun vomited forth a volume of flame and sent a round shot whizzing through space, only to fall harmlessly in a far-off paddy-field. In the meantime the fugitives, favoured by the darkness and the wind, sped along, keeping under the shadow of the wall, until the bridge of boats was passed. “We cannot cross the bridge,” said Haidee, “for on the other side there is a piquet stationed.” “How, then, shall we gain the opposite bank?” asked Harper. “By swimming,” she answered. When they had proceeded about a quarter of a mile farther, Haidee stopped. “This is a good part; the river is narrow here, but the current is strong.” “But will it not be dangerous for you to trust yourself to the stream?” Martin remarked, as he divested himself of his jacket. “Dangerous? No,” she answered; “I am an excellent swimmer.” She unwound a long silken sash from her waist, and, tying one end round her body and the other round Harper, she said-- “I am ready. Swim against the current as much as possible, and you will gain a bend almost opposite to us.” Martin walked to the water’s edge, and, quietly slipping in, struck out boldly. Haidee and Harper followed, and as they floated out into the stream she whispered-- “We are bound together. Where you go I go; we cannot separate.” It was hard work breasting that rapid current, but the swimmers swam well, and the bank was gained. Emerging, somewhat exhausted, and with the muddy waters of the Jumna dripping from them, they stood for some minutes to recover their breath. Haidee was the first to speak. “We are safe so far,” she said. “Before us lies the Meerut road. The way to Cawnpore is to the left.” “Then I suppose we must part,” Martin observed. “Yes,” she answered. “You have but thirty miles to go; travel as far as possible during the night, and in the morning you will be safe.” Martin took her hand. “You are as brave as beautiful, and I am too poor in words to thank you. But in my heart I have a silent gratitude that time can never wear away.” “God speed you,” joined in Harper. “Tell my wife that you left me well and hopeful. Bid her wait patiently for my coming.” “You may depend upon me.” Martin shook the hands of his friends, and, turning away, was soon lost in the darkness. When his retreating footsteps had died out, Haidee grasped Harper’s hand, for he stood musingly, his thoughts preceding his friend to Meerut; he felt not a little sad as he pictured his wife waiting and weeping for him, and he wondered if he would ever see her again. “Come,” said Haidee softly. “Come,” she repeated, as he did not seem to notice her at first, “time flies, and we are surrounded with danger.”