"No servants to be seen--at this hour!" They looked at each other in silence. "We must find Winifred," said the older man, rising from his chair. "And I must hurry back to my regiment," said Frank. "You think, then, that there is trouble with the native troops?" "With the sepoys, yes. I have been told that the 11th and 20th are not wholly to be trusted. And those volleys are fired by infantry." A rapid step and the rustle of a dress warned them that the girl was approaching. She came, like a startled fawn. "The servants' quarters are deserted," she cried. "Great columns of smoke are rising over the trees, and you hear the shooting! Oh, what does it mean?" "It means, my dear, that the Dragoons and the 60th will have to teach these impudent rebels a much-needed lesson," said her uncle. "There is no cause for alarm. Must you really go, Malcolm?" "Go!" broke in Winifred with the shrill accents of terror. "Where are you going?" "To my regiment, of course," said Frank, smiling at her fears. "Probably we shall be able to put down this outbreak before the white troops arrive. Good-by. I shall either return, or send a trustworthy messenger, within an hour." And so, confident and eager, he was gone, and the first moments of the hour sped when, perhaps, a strong man in control at Meerut might have saved India. CHAPTER II A NIGHT IN MAY Winifred, quite unconsciously, had stated the actual incident that led to the outbreak of the Mutiny. The hot weather was so trying for the white troops in Meerut, many of whom, under ordinary conditions, would then have been in the hills, that the General had ordered a Church Parade in the evening, and at an unusual hour. All day long the troopers of the 3d Cavalry nursed their wrath at the fate of their comrades who had refused to handle the suspected cartridges. They had seen men whom they regarded as martyrs stripped of their uniforms and riveted in chains in front of the whole garrison on the morning of the 9th. Though fear of the British force in the cantonment kept them quiet, Hindu vied with Mussalman in muttered execrations of the dominant race. The fact that the day following the punishment parade was a Sunday brought about a certain relaxation from discipline. The men loafed in the bazaars, were taunted by courtesans with lack of courage, and either drowned their troubles in strong drink or drew together in knots to talk treason. Suddenly a sepoy raced up to the cavalry lines with thrilling news. "The Rifles and Artillery are coming to disarm all the native regiments!" he shouted. He had watched the 60th falling in for the Church Parade, and, in view of the action taken at Barrackpore and Lucknow--sepoy battalions having been disbanded in both stations for mutinous conduct--he instantly jumped to the conclusion that the military authorities at Meerut meant to steal a march on the disaffected troops. His warning cry was as a torch laid to a gunpowder train.