The man sighed, and said softly—
“The burra major is dead. I have laid his body inside the mess-room. The mem sahib must have escaped or been carried off.”
“You did this, Dost?” I cried, after a pause.
“Yes, sahib. It was dreadful for him to lie there.”
“Take us where you have laid him,” said Brace, sternly; “but mind, if you attempt to escape, I shall fire.”
“Why should thy servant try to escape?” said the man simply. “This way.”
“You do not trust him?” I said to Brace.
“Trust?” he replied bitterly. “Who can ever trust a Hindu again?”
We followed Dost across the compound, to where the blank windows of the mess-room loomed out of the darkness, and we saw that they and the door were carefully closed.
“I have misjudged him, Gil,” whispered Brace; “he has been here.”