"Do we approach Meerut?"
"No, sahib; we go to the left, and are likely to escape if we succeed in reaching Kurnal."
If Luchman really intended to do his best to conduct the fugitives to that point it was good evidence that he still meant them well.
Musketry firing was heard all around them, and the fugitives were kept in continual fear that some of the guns were aimed at them. It was unsafe to approach the bridge over the Jumna River, and Luchman made a circuit, which brought him to the stream fully a quarter of a mile to the south—a fortunate movement, as it took them pretty well out of the way of the swarming rabble and fugitives.
The river was quite low, so that little difficulty would have been met in fording (the men carrying the ladies), but Luchman was lucky enough to come upon a small boat, by means of which he took all over dry shod.
Being now fairly outside the city and with the Jumna rolling between it and them, our friends felt there was hope of escaping the fate of so many of their countrymen. The road leading to Meerut and to Kurnal was crowded with wretched fugitives, and the distant reports of guns and the shouts of the sepoys showed that plunder and massacre were going on in every direction. Many of the sepoys and the marauding Ghoojurs were at work on the highway as well as in the city.
Luchman explained his plan: he meant to bear off to the left, taking less frequented roads and paths, journeying mostly by night and hiding by day. He knew the country well—an advantage whose importance was beyond estimate, and he did not hesitate to say that if his instructions were followed there was a fair chance of success.
Appreciating the value of every hour, they pushed on while the darkness lasted. In the confusion and gloom there was little to be feared, for they were not likely to be taken for foreigners. Without interruption they reached a point some three miles from the Jumna, where Luchman made another turn to the left, effecting quite a detour, which led them into a path used by pedestrians and horsemen, but without traces of carts or carriages.
No persons were seen, and no doubt Luchman's move was a wise one. There was cultivated land at intervals, and then they passed through dense groves very tempting in the way of hiding places, for they were in continual dread of meeting enemies.
Impelled by their alarm, they pushed forward after daylight, until the increasing heat compelled them to stop. Then, pretty well worn out, they halted near a small stream, where the dense wood hid them from view of any passers by. No one cared about food, though their strength had been taxed to the utmost. The men took turns in watching and sleeping, so that when the sun was low in the sky they were in fair form to continue their flight.