"I don't mind admitting," she went on, laughing nervously, "that I am a wee bit afraid these days--there is so much talk of a native rising. Uncle gets so cross with me when I say anything of that kind that I keep my opinions to myself." "The country is unsettled," said Frank, "and it would be folly to deny the fact. But, at any rate, you are safe enough in Meerut." "Are you sure? Only yesterday morning eighty-five men of your own regiment were sent to prison, were they not?" "Yes, but they alone were disaffected. Every soldier knows he must obey, and these fellows refused point-blank to use their cartridges, though the Colonel said they might tear them instead of biting them. He could go no further--I wonder he met their stupid whims even thus far." "Well, perhaps you are right. Come in, for a minute or two. My uncle is in a rare temper. You must help to talk him out of it. By the way, where are all the servants? The dog-cart ought to be here. _Koi hai!_"[1] [Footnote 1: The Anglo-Indian phrase for summoning a servant, meaning: "Is there any one there?"] No one came in response to her call. Thinking that a syce or chaprassi would appear in a moment, Frank hung Nejdi's bridle on a lamp-hook in the porch, and entered the bungalow. He soon discovered that Mr. Mayne's wrath was due to a statement in a Calcutta newspaper that a certain Colonel Wheler had been preaching to his sepoys. "What between a psalm-singing Viceroy and commanding officers who hold conventicles, we are in for a nice hot weather," growled the Commissioner, shoving a box of cheroots towards Malcolm when the latter found him stretched in a long cane chair on the back veranda. "Here is Lady Canning trying to convert native women, and a number of missionaries publishing manifestoes about the influence of railways and steamships in bringing about the spiritual union of the world! I tell you, Malcolm, India won't stand it. We can do as we like with Hindu and Mussalman so long as we leave their respective religions untouched. The moment those are threatened we enter the danger zone. Confound it, why can't we let the people worship God in their own way? If anything, they are far more religiously inclined than we ourselves. Where is the Englishman who will flop down in the middle of the road to say his prayers at sunset, or measure his length along two thousand miles of a river bank merely as a penance? Give me authority to pack a shipload of busy-bodies home to England, and I'll soon have the country quiet enough--" An ominous sound interrupted the Commissioner's outburst. Both men heard the crackle of distant musketry. At first, neither was willing to admit its significance. "Where is Winifred?" demanded Mr. Mayne, suddenly. "She is looking for a servant, I fancy. There was none in the front of the house, and I wanted a man to hold my horse." A far-off volley rumbled over the plain, and a few birds stirred uneasily among the trees.