Chapter Twenty.
That day passed slowly away, with the heat increasing till the afternoon, and then slowly declining again towards evening. The greatest care was taken of the sepoy prisoners, and the men had the most stringent orders not to go anywhere near the edge of the wood, lest they should be seen by any of the natives at the rajah’s camp, and nothing could have been better than their conduct—all, to a man, busying themselves in polishing up their accoutrements and waiting patiently until their services were wanted, for the discipline of our troop was perfection.
Quite early in the day I went to Sergeant Craig, but the doctor was by him.
“A little irritable this morning,” said the latter. “Wounds going on all right; but they pain him, and I’ve given him something to make him sleep. Don’t disturb him, poor fellow.”
“Is he worse?” I whispered.
“Worse? No; better. I’m making a splendid job of him. He’ll be about again before long.”
I had to come away disappointed, but I soon had something else to take up my attention; for, as I was wondering what sort of a plan Craig’s would be for seizing the guns, Dost came up to me.
“Going to the captain, sahib,” he said. “He will give me rupees, and I can go, and buy food.”
“But you’ll be careful not to betray our hiding-place, Dost.”