“They made some attacks upon the gates,” said the Rajah, “but there is nothing to fear from them. We are strongest there. It is in their mounted men that they are powerful and get the better of us, but after to-day I think I can laugh at them. Scouts came galloping in to say that you had won; but later on other men came in to say that you had all been cut off, and I was afraid.”
“We were cut off,” said Dick, smiling; “but Mr—Captain Wyatt—”
“Steady there!” growled that officer.
“Captain Wyatt,” said Dick, with a little more emphasis, “cut a way for us back again.”
The Rajah was for taking both away with him to the palace, but they excused themselves on the plea of being completely worn out; and he left them, to send servants with fruit and choice refreshments from his own table—a present which made Dick’s eyes brighten with satisfaction as he thought of his patients lying feverish and weary in the extempore hospital ward.
“Oh, this is glorious,” said Dick to himself as he threw himself on his bed at last, the night, for a wonder, being fairly cool; and, as he had a good sprawl, the refreshing sensation of the absence of muscular effort mingled with the mental feeling of a day’s work well done, and he was just dropping into the weary body’s insensibility, when he started into wakefulness as suddenly as if some wriggling abomination had crept into his bed and stung him.
But it was only a thought.
Still, it was strong enough to make him half dress himself, open his door, and nearly fall headlong over something soft lying outside.
“Does the sahib want something?” said the plaintive voice of his servant.
“Want something? Yes!” cried Dick angrily—“you get out of my way. Do you mean to break my neck?”