“Why, the dram, madam. Here has your spouse been tearing his hair and vowing you was dead, and he your murderer. Pray why did you try to throttle yourself? That had more the air of suicide.”
“I—I was afraid of crying out, sir. But where are we, and where are all the rest?”
“Why, madam, we are rowing down the Cossimbuzar river, as fast as these rascally dandies will take us. The Padra and Mr Ranger are in another boat, but since we could find no more than two, and there was no room for the horses, Mirza Shaw refused to abandon his nag, and preferring the beast to his master, remained behind with the syces, undertaking to save the whole caravan. Pray, Mr Fraser, keep an eye on that mangee there. I doubt he’s purposing to run us aground.”
“Now, my dearest life, I must have you try to sleep,” said my kind spouse, making at the same time a threatening motion towards the helmsman, as Mr Watts desired. “My good girl won’t be alarmed, knowing her Fraser is close at hand?”
“Why, no, dear sir,” said I, and composed myself to sleep upon the cloaks, as though this strange situation were the most natural thing in the world. It seemed I had slept but a moment, when I was awaked with a great sound of cheering and huzzaing, and saw that we were arrived at a point where two rivers met, and off which there were lying several large boats. On board of these boats was a number of Europeans (whom I judged to be soldiers by the clothes they had hastily catched up), and these were all testifying their delight in seeing us by excessive shouts of joy. It needed no telling that we had met with the guard sent by Colonel Clive to greet us and bring us to the army, and there was little delay in rewarding the Indian boatmen who had done us such good service against their wills, and sending them about their business, while we were taken on board the Colonel’s boats. My Amelia will set me down as a sad lazy creature, but I’ll confess to her honestly that no sooner had I laid myself down in a cabin than I fell asleep again, and slept—how long does she imagine?—why, my dear, for twelve hours! Your idle girl never woke once until the boats reached Culnah at three o’clock in the afternoon, and I can quite believe she would have slumbered again after that but for the agitating news that reached her. Mr Watts has since rallied me more than once upon this feat, and says there’s not a European in India but would gladly purchase the secret of sleeping so well in the hot weather, though I doubt they would scarce choose to earn their slumber by riding from Moidapore to Augadeep. But what, you’ll ask, was the agitating news that I mentioned? Why, my dear, while I was eating some breakfast at four in the afternoon on board the boat, in comes Mr Fraser, who had gone on shore with Mr Watts to pay his respects to Colonel Clive, with an air of huge triumph.
“The Colonel made particular enquiry how you did, my dearest life, and desired his compliments to you. He also requested the honour of your company at his table to supper this evening if you feel sufficiently restored.”
“Oh, dear sir—sup with Colonel Clive! But I have no gown.”
“Why, madam, where’s that thin white thing you wore at Moidapore?”
“That muslin? ’Tis a simple rag, sir, nothing more, and all in the most frightful creases.”
“’Twill but set off my lovely girl’s face all the better. Come, dear madam, you wouldn’t have me disoblige the Colonel? He showed me extraordinary kindness before I set out on my quest for my lost mistress, and I would wish him to see her now she’s found.”