"Good evening," he said in English. "Is this Dr. Marlowe?"
"It is; who are you?"
"My name is Anderson; I was looking for you."
"In what way can I serve you?"
"You have heard the news, I suppose," said the man, keeping his position, and looking up to the three, who were now all on the edge of the veranda; "the native soldiers at Meerut mutinied yesterday, killed most of their officers, plundered the city, slaying every white person they could find, after which most of them hurried to Delhi."
"You bring dreadful tidings; I had heard nothing definite, but suspected all that you have told me. Are you alone and why do you come to me?"
"I fled with my wife and two other families, Turner and Wharton, from the outskirts of Meerut as soon as there seemed a chance for us. We made our way to the river, found a boat and paddled to this place, for we had no sail and there was scarcely any wind."
"Where are your friends?"
"I left them by the edge of the river in the boat, promising to rejoin them in a few minutes."
"Have you no companions, but those you named?"