“Yes, sahib, and they slept here last night.”
“Ah,” cried Brace; “you know?”
“Yes, sahib, I have been right through the village where the people are staying. No one took me for a spy; it was there I learned that Ny Deen was the Rajah of Ahdenpore. He is going to stay here—it is one of his villages—and drill the men till they can gallop and fire quickly, then he is going to join Shah Rogan’s army, fifty miles to the north, and they are to sweep all the white sahibs out of our land.”
“L’homme propose, et Dieu dispose, Gil,” said Brace, quietly. “So we have run the rajah to earth, eh? Then the next best thing is to keep our men out of sight, Gil, eh?” he continued cheerily. “Dost, you will be faithful to us, I know. Perhaps we shall not all be swept out of the country. Now then, cautiously,” he said. “Hah, yes, they have sentries placed. Rajah Syce is no fool. It was a clever, well-contrived scheme, but he will have to work hard to keep those guns, Gil. Now, three hours for rest and food; we must get strength, if we are to succeed.”
“Have you a plan yet?” I said as we walked on in the shade of the trees.
“None as yet. The only thing I have been planning is to make sure those sepoy prisoners do not betray us. The rest will come.”
Half an hour later we were back in our little camp, where Haynes had sentries placed, and our evening meal ready.
“Any luck?” he said, in a tired voice.
“Yes,” said Brace; “we have been watching a review of our troop. We have run the enemy to his lair.”
“And what next?”