“Pshaw! there is higher game to fly at than that. Besides, there are good times dawning for Cawnpore, and you will come in for a share of the spoil. But let us have our supper, for I am hungered.”
Hadjee had already turned the rice on to a large brass dish, and added to it the indispensable mess of curry, and having procured some water from a neighbouring well, the four men seated themselves round the rice, and commenced to eat.
When the meal was ended, Moghul rose.
At the same moment, a tall, powerful, and savage-looking man entered; his name was Haffe Beg, and he was employed by Jewan Bukht, on behalf of Nana Sahib, as a spy.
Jewan rose as the man entered.
“Ah, Haffe! what news? You have been absent for some days.”
“Yes,” answered the man gruffly; “I have had business.”
“Important, I suppose, since it has detained you?” said Jewan.
“Yes; word was brought to me a few days ago that a woman and an Englishman were travelling from Delhi towards Cawnpore.”
“Indeed!” cried Moghul Singh; “who were they?”