'It is useless, my poor Hoosanee,' she said. 'They are stronger than we are. I must go with them, and you will, for my sake, take my poor friends on. Remember Kit.'

At this moment there was a wild shriek, which made Grace wring her hands and weep. 'Oh, God! have pity!' she moaned. 'Is it not enough? That is his voice; I left him insensible.'

Maddened with terror at finding himself alone, the poor child had sprung out of the nullah, and made blindly for where the torches were shining. A sepoy seized him. Grace cried out frantically and covered her face with her hands. The poor women in the cart, who thought that it was her death-cry, gave a piteous wail. Hoosanee dashed forward and seized the barbarian's arm. 'Shame! shame!' he cried, 'it is a girl-child; give it to me!'

The light of the torches flashed on poor little Kit's long golden curls and delicate face, and there was a murmur of pity. The child was released, and he dashed headlong into Grace's arms. 'Go to Hoosanee, darling!' she whispered. 'He will take you to your mother.'

'No, no, no. I'll go with you. Take me! take me!' sobbed poor little Kit, the strain of his arms tightening.

'No, Kit, no; I can't. Oh God! It will kill me! Hoosanee, take him. Take him by force if you must. There! there!'

'Enough! Take them both,' cried the leader. A litter had been brought out. It was put down, and Grace was ordered to get into it. She made one last effort to send away Kit; but he clung to her more convulsively than ever. They got in together; the curtains were lowered; four stout coolies lifted the pole to their shoulders; a body of torch-bearers ranged themselves on either side; the horsemen and foot soldiers made a compact mass round them; and, in a few moments, they were being swung along at a swift pace—going they knew not whither.

Then Grace burst into tears, and Kit loosened his frantic grasp of her neck. 'Why did you come, child?' she said. 'You would have been safe with them. To-morrow they will be in Gumilcund.'

'But I'd much rather be with you,' said Kit, 'and it would be beastly cowardly to let you go alone. Don't cry, Grace. I'll take care of you now.'