"Mine and Mrs. Hulver's." There was a pause; and then, as enlightenment came, Alderbury said in a low voice: "So then, you were young William?" "The sweeper carried me wrapped in a sheet; for I could neither walk nor stand. It was between two and three o'clock in the morning when I was hoisted on to his back in a half unconscious state, my senses too stupefied to feel much pain, and I was taken to the college house. Mrs. Hulver was roused from her sleep by the sweeper woman--who works there, and is a relative of the man--and I was handed over to the housekeeper. I have since called her mother, so good and kind has she been to me. Under her care I recovered." "And through her good offices you have come to me. How did you get here? By train?" "No, sir; I came in your own cart and brought my luggage with me," replied Ananda. He continued his story. "When the sweeper found that I did not turn up as I promised at the little station, he carried the bundles back to his own house and came hot-foot to learn the reason of my failure to keep the appointment. There he found me in that sorry plight." "I am still puzzled," said Alderbury after a little thought. "Mrs. Hulver's son was seen by Miss Wenaston lying on the cot in her sitting-room; and he was wearing uniform, the uniform of the regiment." "When I regained consciousness in her room, I found myself dressed in the uniform that belonged to her son's father. She had kept it, and though it was very old and a loose fit, it served as an excellent disguise." "She is a wonderful woman!" "The kindest! the best!" Ananda stopped with sudden emotion, his heart too full for words. "I suppose this means that all communication between yourself and your family comes to an end," remarked Alderbury. "I think not, sir," replied Ananda in a decisive voice. "Why should I be banished from my home like a criminal because I have changed my religion? I shall not allow my wife to go back. There is no reason why she should run any risk of insult; but I shall go back later on, when the irritation against me has died down, and see my father and mother." "Don't put yourself in any unnecessary danger. Past experience should make you careful," said Alderbury. "It has been dearly bought and is not likely to be forgotten," replied Ananda, with a touch of bitterness. "And remember also that in Chirapore you, as an outcaste and Christian, have no civil rights." "I am not likely to forget what is the only stain upon its government as a model native State. I should not think of returning to live there; but I mean to go some time or other to see my mother." The old obstinacy was still to the fore. Behind it stood no longer the weakness and vacillation of youth, but the noble courage of a man who had been tried in the fire of affliction and not found wanting. "And now I want to know how your wife managed to get away and meet me on the road."