“I know Moghul Singh’s house. He keeps three or four of his mistresses there. Escape from the place would be comparatively easy.”
“Yes, yes; go on,” said Flora excitedly, as Zeemit paused again.
“If he conveyed you there these women would favour your escape, because they would be very jealous of you. And if they let you go, they would think that, as a Feringhee woman, you would soon be slaughtered in the city. I could take you from there, and conceal you somewhere until a chance presented itself to get outside.”
“Your plan seems a good one, Zeemit; and a new hope springs up. But tell me, before you left Cawnpore, did you see Mr. Gordon?”
“Yes.”
“And what became of him?”
“I advised him to go into the defences, and promised to communicate with him in the event of being able to set you free. But communication is impracticable now. We must wait.”
“And do you think he still lives, Zeemit?”
“At a time like this it is hard to answer such a question. A thousand dangers beset us all.”
“But he was alive and well when you left him?” Flora asked with a sigh.