“Is it near morning yet?” I asked him.
“Why, no, Beebee; only a little past midnight.”
“But sure we must have been riding a dozen hours at least.”
“Less than six, Beebee.”
“Why, how long is it then since Mr Fraser started?”
“Twenty minutes, Beebee.”
“But that’s not possible. I have been listening for him for hours.”
“Not so, Beebee. He has scarce had time to reach the village yet, much less to return to us. Beebee Fraser need not fear for him.”
This was excessively consoling, questionless, but it failed to calm my fears, and I sat and shuddered until there was a rustling of the bushes, and the two missing gentlemen crept back safe into our midst. Mr Watts, awake at once, questioned them eagerly, and they told him they had reached the village, which is named Augadeep, and found the Nabob’s force encamped on both sides of the road, but all fast asleep and without a single sentinel, after the manner of the Indians in war, so that they believed it possible to ride straight through them undiscovered, and reach the river on the further side.
“And so we will!” cried Mr Watts. “Wake up, doctor. The Retreat of the Ten Thousand will be naught to ours. Straight through the enemy’s camp!”