Jewan did not answer, but drove straight on, until, crossing a broad courtyard, he alighted at the door of a pile of buildings in the rear of the Palace. He lifted Flora out, for she was too weak to rise. He carried her into a luxurious apartment, and placed her upon a couch. Scarcely had he done so than Moghul Singh, the orderly of the guard, entered hurriedly.
“Good greetings, Jewan,” he exclaimed. Then, noticing the pale form of Miss Meredith, he laughed slyly, and added, “So, so; you have caught a bird! By the Prophet, but she is a bonny one too!”
Flora seemed to be quite unconscious of what was passing around her. She had let her head fall upon the arms of the couch, and had buried her face in her hands.
“But what do you want here?” the orderly continued. “Know you not that your presence is urgently required in Cawnpore?”
“No, I did not know that,” Jewan answered, as a look of annoyance crossed his face. “But whence got you this information?”
“From Teeka Singh. He was here yesterday, and said you were to lose no time in hurrying to the Nana. Nay, he expects you this very day.”
“That is unfortunate,” Jewan remarked, biting his lips with vexation.
Moghul laughed, and, pointing to Flora, said—
“You must choose between pleasure and duty.”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed Jewan, angrily.