Presently they heard the rapid trampling of horses, and looking through the bushes they saw some twenty sowars of one of the native cavalry regiments dash past.
Bathurst went to the edge of the wood again, and looked out. Then he turned suddenly to Isobel.
“You remember those pictures on the smoke?” he said excitedly.
“No, I do not remember them,” she said, in surprise. “I have often wondered at it, but I have never been able to recollect what they were since that evening. I have often thought they were just like dreams, where one sees everything just as plainly as if it were a reality, and then go out of your mind altogether as soon as you are awake.”
“It has been just the same with me,” replied Bathurst, “except that once or twice they have come back for a moment quite vividly. One of them I have not thought of for some days, but now I see it again. Don't you remember there was a wood, and a Hindoo man and woman stepped out of it, and a third native came up to them?”
“Yes, I remember now,” she said eagerly; “it was just as we are here; but what of that, Mr. Bathurst?”
“Did you recognize any of them?”
“Yes, yes, it all comes back to me now. It was you and the Doctor, certainly, and I thought the woman was myself. I spoke to the Doctor next day about it, but he laughed at it all, and I have never thought of it since.”
“The Doctor and I agreed, when we talked it over that evening, that the Hindoo who stepped out of the wood was myself, and thought that you were the Hindoo girl, but of that we were not so sure, for your face seemed not only darkened, but blotched and altered—it was just as you are now—and the third native was the Doctor himself; we both felt certain of that. It has come true, and I feel absolutely certain that the native I saw along the road will turn out to be the Doctor.”
“Oh, I hope so, I hope so!” the girl cried, and pressed forward with Bathurst to the edge of the wood.