“Yes; we cannot let that poor wretch die so horrible a death. And besides, we can restore the jewels to the Ranee and show her that I am innocent.”
“It would be enough to show the Rajah,” said Hulton dryly.
“Well, why not?” cried Wyatt. “The jewels are here, the enemy there where it would be madness to go; the Wazir is dead, and you have the priest a prisoner ready to prove the conspiracy to his highness. Last of all, you have defeated his enemies and ours.”
“Yes,” cried Dick, “we must go back.”
“Right,” cried Hulton, catching the suggestion from the others. “We can ride back in triumph and completely change the state of affairs. Sound, Wyatt! and let’s ride back at once.”
It was quite time to sound the trumpet for mounting once again, for the flashing of steel in the distance told of a fresh body of horse approaching from the direction of Soojeepur.
The battle seemed about to be renewed.
“Yes,” said Wyatt sternly, “with fresh men; and if the Wazir’s folk can see them where they are now, we shall be attacked again from front and rear.”
This appearance of a fresh body of the enemy seemed to completely overset the plans just made, for the prospect of reaching the city now that the way was blocked seemed small indeed.
“I don’t like it—I don’t like it, Dick,” growled Wyatt as he rode alongside of his brother-officer at a gentle pace, in full marching order now with all their wagons, of which, however, they were prepared to disembarrass themselves in time of need.