Did this terrible tiger-man succeed in capturing her dear English boy, what tortures might he not inflict upon him were the ransom which he would certainly demand not paid! She could not bear to think of it. The tales which she had been told might have been exaggerated, but many of them were too true, nor did the appearance of the man belie them. Sunshine believed them all.
While she hesitated, uncertain what to do, little Golden-leaf's pet cat came crying up to her, telling, in its own fashion, its story of fright and trouble, and glad to meet with a well-known friend. But, fearful lest the little creature should betray her whereabouts to the dacoits, she turned and fled, followed for a little way by the cat, but soon beyond the boundaries familiar to it, and it turned back to meet with the cruelty which the girl escaped.
She ran and ran till she was tired, then sat down to rest, and cry. All at once, a resolution entered her mind. She would make her way to the police-station, where she would be safe, and whence aid for her friends would certainly be sent to them.
She wished that she had thought of it before. The day was bright now, she knew in which direction the station lay, but she did not know how far off it was.
Bravely did she set out, walking on, on, on; climbing steep hills, wading through marshy places, cutting her bare feet with stones,—hungry, tired, and disheartened, but persistent. She had to rest many times, and the day wore away and night fell.
She struggled on to a pagoda which she saw on the side of a hill, and where she thought that she would pass the dark hours safely. She did not expect to find shelter there, for she knew that these erections were solid blocks of bricks, not buildings with chambers and apartments in which people lived. This one was deserted and ruinous. It had been a pious work to build it, but, the original founder having long been dead, it was not the business of anyone else to repair it as it became dilapidated under the influence of wind and weather. The piety which might have induced such a proceeding would not be counted to the score of the man who repaired, but to that of the first builder, in the other world.
"Let everyone take care of himself," the Burman says, and leaves his father's good deeds to fall into decay, while he ensures his own salvation by putting up another showy building.
Sunshine made her way to this place, holy in her simple eyes; and there, climbing up a pile of fallen bricks, found a fairly comfortable and sheltered seat, where she crouched all night long.
At first she clasped her arms around her knees, and looked out upon the dim landscape, the winding stream shining in the valley beneath her, the brilliant stars in the deep blue sky above,—seeing nothing of the beauty of nature, but deeply impressed by its mystery, gazing straight before her with wide-open eyes of awe and distrust. But gradually fatigue overpowered her, and, leaning her head back against the stones, she fell asleep.
Her sleep lasted long, and she woke when the sun was already high; arising stiff, hungry, and thirsty, to another toiling journey. First she would go down to the stream and drink. As she stooped, she saw a troop of horsemen cantering along the farther bank, taking their morning exercise. She knew the British dress—these were the people whom she was seeking; she stumbled through the stream, limped up to Mr. Brudenel, and implored him to ride fast to the rescue of her friends.