As the Hindu began to open the door, we glanced sharply about the place, each holding his double rifle, ready for immediate action against human tigers, as I told myself. But all was silent and deserted, and as I looked toward the major’s quarters and thought of the pleasant English lady who had so often made me welcome in the little drawing-room she fitted up so charmingly wherever we stayed, and whose soft carpets, purdahs, and screens came back to my memory in the soft light of the shaded lamps, I shivered, and wondered what had been her fate.
“I could not find the lieutenant, sahib,” said Dost, as he threw open the door.
“Be on your guard, Gil,” whispered Brace to me in French; “it may be a trap after all. Hush! Look out. I thought so,” he cried; and I swung round the muzzle of my rifle, as four figures suddenly came upon us from out of the darkness at our back.
The alarm was momentary, for a familiar voice said, as the point of a sword gritted in the sand at the speaker’s feet—
“All right. I was growing uneasy about you, and brought three of the boys in case of accident.”
“Thank you, doctor,” said Brace. “We are going in here. The major—”
“Hush!” said the doctor, drawing in a hissing breath. “Stand fast, my lads.”
“If you hear anything wrong,” said Brace to the three men who stood sword in hand, “you know what to do.”
There was a low hiss, more than a murmur, and then we were in the darkness of the mess-room.
“I’ll shut the door,” said Dost, softly.