“Oh!” came in one burst from the men.
“Go and tell Mr Haynes.”
“Best news I’ve heard to-day, sir,” whispered the sergeant, who turned and went off at the double while I stepped outside, and closed the door to satisfy myself that the light could not be seen.
“No, sir,” said one of the men, “we couldn’t see a speck of it.”
I hurried back to report in a whisper that all was safe, and for the next quarter of an hour I looked on till the doctor had finished his task.
“There,” he said, rising, “he’s as bad as can be, but I may bring him round if we can get him to a place of safety.”
“Dost can help us, perhaps,” I whispered.
“Try and manage it with him, Danby,” said Brace, “while I go and see if the horses are safe. Dost, I ask your pardon for my unjust suspicions. Forgive me!”
“The captain sahib did not know my heart,” was the reply; and before leaving, I caught and pressed the Hindu’s hand.
Outside in the black night, where the hot wind was sighing, and the great stars blinking down, we left one man on guard at the mess-room door, and hurried round to the stables, where, to our great delight, we were saluted by a low whinnying from the horses, my two and Brace’s being safe and eagerly waiting for their supply of food. Leaving the men to feed them, we hurried to the next stables, where the major’s horses should have been, in company with the doctor’s, but the place was empty; and on continuing our quest, Barton’s and Haynes’s were all missing, while the men’s troopers were gone, and a glance at the sheds showed that not a gun or limber was left.