Gambier Singh answered with a question. 'I am told,' he said, 'that you are leaving us?'

'Have I not told you so myself?' said Tom. 'I must go soon, or I shall be tempted to stay with you for ever.'

The young Captain bowed himself and pressed his palms together. 'Sahib, my friend and brother,' he said, 'if you are happy with us, as you say, let me beseech you to remain. We are peaceful, and the Ghoorka soldier, if savage to his foes, will be true to his salt. Over there,' and he pointed across the mountains, 'there will be wild work soon.'

'What do you mean? What has happened?' cried Tom, springing to his feet.

'I mean, my brother, that the revolt has begun.'

'Revolt! When? Where? Speak to me plainly I entreat of you.'

He was pale to the very lips. In that instant of time, while the dim mountain range which a few days before he had crossed so joyfully, frowned down upon him like a fortress, a hundred torturing images pressed upon his brain. The family-circle at Meerut, the General who would trust his soldiers to the death, gentle Lady Elton and the girls, Grace, wandering Heaven only knew where, reckless Vivien flinging her defiance at the crowd of Asiatics, his friends of the voyage, Mrs. Lyster, tender little Aglaia—what would become of them all if this dreadful thing were true? Oh! for wings to carry him over the mountains, that he might see with his own eyes what was going on! In the meantime, Gambier Singh's voice, which was much calmer than it had been, came to him as if from a great distance.

'Let my brother compose himself. It has only begun. The North and North-West are at peace.'

'Thank God!'

'But,' went on the young Captain, 'it is a hollow peace. Of this my master is assured. If your rulers are prompt, if they crush out the insurrection with an iron hand, there may still be peace, for the loyal will be strengthened, and the discontented will fear to rise. If not, the torch of rebellion will flame out fiercely. From province to province it will be carried, and the wild heart of the Asiatic, which discipline has kept down but not subdued, will take fire and leap out in rapine and murder.' Then, in a few words, he told the story of the mutiny of Berhampore. It was ominous, but not nearly so dreadful as Tom had imagined. He began to breathe more freely. 'Are you sure there is nothing more?' he said. 'You are not keeping anything from me?'