In defiance of orders--of which, however, she was then ignorant--she went to the ground floor. Passing out into the darkness she crossed an open space to the hospital, and it chanced that the first person she encountered was Chumru, Malcolm's bearer. The man's grim features changed their habitual scowl to a demoniac grin when he saw her. "Ohé, miss-sahib," he cried, "this meeting is my good fortune, for surely you can tell me where my sahib is?" Winifred was not yet well versed in Hindustani, but she caught some of the words, and the contortions of Chumru's expressive countenance were familiar to her, as she had laughed many a time at Malcolm's recitals of his ill-favored servant's undeserved repute as a villain of parts. "Your sahib is gone to Allahabad," she managed to say before the thought came tardily that perhaps it was not wise to make known the Chief Commissioner's behests in this manner. "To Illah-hábàd! Shade of Mahomet, how can he go that far without me?" exclaimed Chumru. "Who will cook his food and brush his clothes? Who will see to it that he is not robbed on the road by every thief that ever reared a chicken or milked a cow? I feared that some evil thing had befallen him, but this is worse than aught that entered my head." All this was lost on Winifred. She imagined that the native was bewailing his master's certain death in striving to carry out a desperate mission, whereas he was really thinking that the most disturbing element about the sahib's journey was his own absence. Seeing the distress in her face, Chumru was sure that she sympathized with his views. "Never mind, miss-sahib," said he confidentially, "I will slip away now, steal a horse and follow him." Without another word he hastened out of the building and left her wondering what he meant. She repeated the brief phrases, as well as she could recall them, to a Eurasian whom she found acting as a water-carrier. This man translated Chumru's parting statement quite accurately, and when Mr. Mayne came at last from the Bailey Guard where he had been stationed until relieved after nightfall, he horrified her by telling her the truth--that it was a hundred chances to one against the unfortunate bearer's escape if he did really endeavor to break through the investing lines. And indeed few men could have escaped from the entrenchment that night. Any one who climbed to the third story of the Residency--itself the highest building within the walls and standing on the most elevated site--would soon be dispossessed of the fantastic notion that any corner was left unguarded by the rebels. A few houses had been demolished by Lawrence's orders, it is true, but his deep respect for native ideals had left untouched the swarm of mosques and temples that stood between the Residency and the river.