They did not speak. Their ears were strained as their tumultuous thoughts. At last, some one came, a man, and his firm tread of boot-shod feet betokened a soldier. It was the rebel who had become their scout. "Sahib," said he, "it is even as I told you. Cawnpore is lost to you." "And you, Akhab Khan, do you go or stay?" There was another moment of tense silence. "Would you have me draw sword against the men of my own faith?" was the despairing answer. "It would not be for the first time," said Malcolm coldly. "But I could never trust thee again. Yet hast thou chosen wrongly, Akhab Khan. When thy day of reckoning comes, may it be remembered in thy favor that thou didst turn most unwillingly against thy masters!" Akhab Khan raised his right hand in a military salute. Suddenly, his erect form became indistinct, and faded out of sight. The boat was traveling down stream once more. Around her the river lapped lazily, and the solemn quietude of the mist-covered waters was accentuated by the far-off turmoil in the city. The huge sail thrust its yard high above the fog bank, and watchers on the river side saw it. Some one hailed in the vernacular, and Chumru replied that they came from Bithoor with hay. Prompted by Malcolm he went on: "How goes the good work, brother?" "Rarely," came the voice. "I have already requited two bunniahs to whom I owed money. Gold is to be had for the taking. Leave thy budgerow at the bridge, friend, and join us." The raucous, half-drunken accents substantiated Akhab Khan's story. The unseen speaker was evidently himself a boatman. He was rejoicing in the upheaval that permitted debts to be paid with a bludgeon and money to be made without toil. Mayne caught Frank by the arm. "We are drifting towards the bridge of boats that carries the road to Lucknow across the river," he said, in the hurried tone of a man who sees a new and paralyzing danger. "There is a drawbridge for river traffic, but how shall we find it, and, in any event, we must be seen." "Are there many houses on the opposite bank?" asked Malcolm. "Not many. They are mostly mud hovels. What is in your mind?" "We might endeavor to cross the river before we reach the bridge. By riding boldly along the Lucknow Road we shall place many miles between ourselves and Cawnpore before day breaks." "That certainly seems to offer our best chance. We have plenty of horses and we ought to be in Lucknow soon after dawn." "What if matters are as bad there?" "Impossible! Lawrence has a whole regiment with him, the 32d, and plenty of guns. Poor Wheeler, at Cawnpore, commanded a depôt, mostly officials on the staff, and invalids. At any rate, Malcolm, we must have some objective. Lucknow spells hope. Neither Meerut nor Allahabad is attainable. And what will become of Winifred if we fail to reach some station that still holds out?" The girl herself now came to them.