Through the Sikh War: A Tale of the Conquest of the Punjaub

by G. A. Henty

"It was the young sahib himself who devised the plan by which we escaped, Bhop Lal; and how are your wounds?"

"They are very sore yet, and the hakim says that it will be many weeks before I am fit to sit in the saddle again; but now that our sahib is back safely I shall have no more to fret about, and shall mend rapidly."

By this time they had arrived at the door of the colonel's residence, and Percy ran in.

"You cannot enter here, fellow," a servant said, as he was about to push aside the hangings of the entrance to the private apartments.

Percy laughed, and without waiting to explain pushed the man aside and ran in.

"Well, uncle, here I am," he exclaimed, as he entered the room where his uncle was sitting writing. The latter leapt to his feet with a cry of joy.

"Why, Percy, is it you in this disguise? Welcome back, my boy, a thousand times! But before you tell me anything, come in to see Mahtab, who has been downright ill from grief since Bhop Lal brought in the news of your being carried off by dacoits."

The Ranee's delight at seeing Percy was unbounded, and it was some time before she and her husband could sit down quietly and listen to his story.

"All is well that ends well," the colonel said when he had brought it to a conclusion. "You have had a bad time of it, Percy; but I doubt if your aunt and I have not had a worse. Of course, I was a good deal troubled when I heard that you were carried off; but as to that Bhop Lal could tell us nothing, having been shot down at once, and so hacked that he knew nothing of what took place until he was revived by water being poured down his throat. Three traders coming along the road on their way here had found him, and as soon as they learned from him who he was and what had occurred, they bandaged his wounds and had him carried here in a dhoolie. They reported that they had seen nothing of you, and one of them at once rode back with me with a troop of horse to the spot where they had found your man, and as, after a most careful search, we could find no trace of blood, we concluded that you had been carried off.

"We followed the traces of the band for some distance, but then lost them just as it was becoming dark. As they had had some eight hours' start of us, and were making for the mountains, we gave up the pursuit and returned here. I made sure that in the morning I should receive a message from the rascal demanding a ransom for you, but as the day went on I became more uneasy, as the idea struck me that they might not be dacoits, but fellows in the pay of Ghoolab. It certainly did not seem likely that he could have heard that you would be on your way back; but his men might have been there for weeks, for he would guess that when the war was over you would be making your way back here again.