His mind, in the meantime, was oscillating between hope and despair. Every hour increased his impatience, and added to his horror and uncertainty. It was true that, only a few days before, they had been seen living, and still, so far as he could gather, in good health; but would not the difficulties and dangers of this further journey, which taxed their own resources to the utmost, break these tender wanderers down? And to fail at the last moment, when help was actually within reach--how infinitely pitiful it would be! He had one comfort, meanwhile--Bâl Narîn was with him. The news heard at the Aswalia village had completely won over the wily Ghoorka guide. Hitherto he had gone on with the enterprise to indulge his employer, and humour the mad caprice of an Englishman who had cast his spell over him. While the European rajah 'held him with his eye,' he could not refuse to follow him. Now, first, he began to believe in a happy issue. He would not say much about it, for he was fearful, if he gave an encouragement which turned out to be unfounded, the young rajah would sicken and die of despair; but Tom, who could read the minds of his people, knew that he was going forward with renewed energy. It was on the second day after they left the village behind them that Bâl Narîn's experienced eye began to detect marks which led him to believe that they were actually, at last, on the fugitives' track. They were in the path known in this region as the robbers' road--a path which, though distinct enough to the experienced, was difficult to pass over, being much choked with vegetation. Kutcha-grass, growing to an immense height, made dense walls on either side of the road. They were in their usual marching order--the coolies in front beating down obstructions, Tom riding behind them, and peering anxiously into the recesses of the jungle, behind him the Ghoorka soldiers mounted on camels, and Bâl Narîn bringing up the rear.