'No; I believe he meant well. He had sent for me. He was making her a bait for my alliance. I could not have given in to that, of course; but I don't think for a moment that he would have hurt her. I can't tell you everything now. It was one of their fiendish intrigues.' As they talked they were going round the fort, where not a soul was to be found but these three men--the Rajah of Gumilcund and his two servants. 'Can the brutes have got away?' said Bertie. Tom sent for Ganesh, who, he said, knew more of the events of the night than either he or Hoosanee, and, after a little delay, the Brahmin led them to a small inner courtyard, in the centre of which was a dry well. Several of the men who were following them leapt down. They found nothing but dead bodies. The entrance to the subterranean passage, which made a secret exit from the fort, was here, and hundreds had been smothered in their efforts to reach it. That some had escaped was most probable; but whether the chief was amongst them or not could not be determined. Search was made for his body, but it was not found. This was the only damper on an enterprise which had been perfectly successful, and accomplished without the loss of a single life. The soldiers were now allowed to rest, cook their morning meal, and ransack the ruins for such treasures as might have escaped the destruction that had fallen upon the fort, and Tom, whose story had run through the camp, was invited to the officers' mess. Ganesh and Hoosanee, meanwhile, were taking what rest and refreshment they could, and making arrangements for another start. It was well that they had their wits about them, for Tom, for the moment, was like one dazed. The colonel of the detachment, when he had benevolently tried to enter into conversation with him, congratulating him on his escape, and asking what measures he meant to take to ensure his safe return to Gumilcund, and had received nothing but vague replies, took Bertie aside, and said that something ought to be done for the poor fellow. His mind was evidently a little astray. Bertie had the same fear; had his duty permitted--I have this part of the story from him--he would willingly have joined his unfortunate friend, giving him the benefit of what he considered his own clearer judgment. But this he knew was impossible. He led him away from the mess table. 'My dear fellow,' he said as firmly as he could, 'you must really tell me what your plans are. Where do you mean to go when you leave this place? To Gumilcund?' 'To Gumilcund! When Grace is wandering Heaven alone knows where!' 'Do you love her?' asked Bertie, hoping to rouse him.