On the evening of the second day, they emerged from the jungle, and, to the great contentment of the whole party, came to opener ground. On the banks of a sluggish stream, whose course they had been following for some time, the weeds and shrub had been cleared away to give place to scanty herbage and lush green paddy-fields. An Aswalia village--a melancholy little group of tiny bark huts--had been planted in the clearing. It was a landmark for which Bâl Narîn had been looking. As soon as he caught sight of it, he made his party halt, and cantered on to make inquiries, and to prepare the villagers, who were exceedingly jealous of their rights, for the passage of strangers. He was away long enough to make Tom impatient; but when he returned, his radiant face showed that he brought good news with him. 'Are they in the village?' cried Tom, leaping at once to the conclusion which, a moment before, had seemed too rapturous, even for a vision. 'No,' said Bâl Narîn, drawing rein. 'But they have been heard of.' 'Where? where? Let us set off at once! You are our saviour, our good genius,' cried Tom. 'The Sahib must be pleased to have patience still,' said Bâl Narîn, with dignity. 'I will tell him what I have heard, and then he shall decide what we are to do. Two days ago----' 'Two days--only two days--you are sure----' 'I am telling my tale to the Sahib as it was told to me. Two days ago a woman and a little girl, who said that they were servants of the English, came into the village. A holy man was with them. He was from the Doab, he said. He had met the woman flying from murderers, and he had vowed to carry her safely across the mountains with her child. They were afraid to go by the main road, and they were seeking the pass known as the "robbers' road." The headman is quiet and good when he sees no chance of plunder. I know him well. There was nothing about the travellers to tempt him, and perhaps he would have been afraid to hurt the holy man. They were given shelter and provisions, for which the woman and child gave the bangles of silver that they still wore. The headman pitied them, and he would not take all. He directed them to the next village, let them rest for a night, and sent them on. I asked how they were travelling, and he said they had a bullock-cart.' 'But how do you know----' began Tom. 'Patience, Sahib! I am coming to that. The child, they tell me, wore a little embroidered cap under her muslin veil. The cap was of a pretty red colour, and one of the women in the village took a fancy to it. She came behind the child and lifted it off. Then, Sahib, all who stood round were speechless with surprise, for the child gave a cry, and the woman caught it to her arms, and long yellow curls fell down about its shoulders. What does the Sahib say to that?' 'It was Kit,' said Tom. 'But go on, for heaven's sake. Did the villagers show them any unkindness?'