An ominous sound interrupted the Commissioner’s outburst. Both men heard the crackle of distant musketry. At first, neither was willing to admit its significance.
“Where is Winifred?” demanded Mr. Mayne, suddenly.
“She is looking for a servant, I fancy. There was none in the front of the house, and I wanted a man to hold my horse.”
A far-off volley rumbled over the plain, and a few birds stirred uneasily among the trees.
“No servants to be seen—at this hour!”
They looked at each other in silence.
“We must find Winifred,” said the older man, rising from his chair.
“And I must hurry back to my regiment,” said Frank.
“You think, then, that there is trouble with the native troops?”
“With the sepoys, yes. I have been told that the 11th and 20th are not wholly to be trusted. And those volleys are fired by infantry.”