Then she looked up and said, “It is Miss Hannay, she was captured with us in the boats; please help me to carry her over to the wall there, and my daughter and I will nurse her; it looks as if she had been terribly burnt, somehow.”
Many of the ladies had met Isobel in the happy days before the troubles began, and great was the pity expressed at her appearance. She was carried to the side of the wall, where Mary and Mrs. Hunter at once made her as comfortable as they could. Rabda, who had now thrown back her veil, produced from under her dress the net containing some fifty small limes, and handed to Mrs. Hunter the pot of ointment and the lotion.
“She has saved me,” Isobel said; “it is the daughter of the juggler who performed at your house, Mrs. Hunter; do thank her for me, and tell her how grateful I am.”
Mrs. Hunter took Rabda's hand, and in her own language thanked her for her kindness to Isobel.
“I have done as I was told,” Rabda said simply; “the Sahib Bathurst saved my life, and when he said the lady must be rescued from the hands of the Nana, it was only right that I should do so, even at the risk of my life.”
“So Bathurst has escaped,” Mrs. Hunter said, turning to Isobel. “I am glad of that, dear; I was afraid that all were gone.”
“Yes, I had a note from him; it is by his means that I got away from Bithoor. He sent me the caustic and acid to burn my face. He told me Mr. Wilson had also escaped, and perhaps some others may have got away, though he did not seem to know it.”
“But surely there could be no occasion to burn yourself as badly as you have done, Isobel.”
“I am afraid I did put on too much acid,” she said. “I was so afraid of not burning it enough; but it does not matter, it does not pain me nearly so much since I put on that ointment; it will soon get well.”
Mrs. Hunter shook her head regretfully.