“We were just going to push on, Doctor; but as you have had a good long tramp already, we will stop here until tomorrow morning, if you like.”
“No, no, let us go on, Bathurst. I would rather be on the move, and you can tell me your story as we go.”
CHAPTER XXII.
Bathurst knew the Doctor well, and perceived that glad as he was to have met them, he was yet profoundly depressed in spirits. This, added to the fact that he had left Cawnpore that morning, instead of waiting as he had intended, convinced Bathurst that what he dreaded had taken place. He waited until Isobel stopped for a moment, that Rabda might rearrange the cloth folded round her in its proper draping. Then he said quickly, “I heard yesterday what was intended, Doctor. Is it possible that it has been done?”
“It was done this morning.”
“What, all? Surely not all, Doctor?”
“Every soul—every woman and child. Think of it—the fiends! the devils! The native brought me the news. If I had heard it in the streets of Cawnpore I should have gone mad and seized a sword and run amuck. As it was, I was well nigh out of mind. I could not stay there. The man would have sheltered me until the troops came up, but I was obliged to be moving, so I started down. Hush! here comes Isobel; we must keep it from her.”
“Now, Isobel,” he went on, as the girl joined them, and they all started along the road, “tell me how it is I find you here.”
“Mr. Bathurst must tell you, Doctor; I cannot talk about it yet—I can hardly think about it.”