"Too late! too late, sahib; do you hear that?"
All heard the sounds made by the hoofs of swiftly galloping horses.
"Look out of the door," he added; "but be careful they do not see you."
They were just in time to catch a glimpse of eight or ten horsemen as they rode by, partly hidden by the dust. They were mutineers or Ghoojurs pursuing the carriage.
The faces of the fugitives blanched as they drew near each other in the darkness of the bungalow. They knew the meaning of what they saw, without any explanation from Luchman.
The rattling discharge of guns followed: there could be no mistake either as to what that signified.
A few minutes before the three craved food, but they wanted none now. To a certain extent they had become accustomed to massacre and crime, but there was something unspeakably horrifying in the thought that the two ladies, whose voices still echoed in the ears of the missionary, and the track of whose wheels had not been obliterated by the hoofs of the horses, were no more of earth.
Even Luchman was affected by the awful fate of the party, for there could be no doubt that they were dead. He was silent for a brief space, and then looked around as though he missed Harkins and Avery. They had not spoken, and seeing nothing of them in the gloom, he asked where they were. When told they had been gone for a considerable time, he was impatient.
"They have done wrong—very wrong," he said, as if speaking to himself; "they should have known better; the time has come when we must leave the highway and take to the jungle again."
"What new trouble has arisen?" asked Mr. Hildreth.