For a short time we stood stock-still among the shrubs and trees; then, believing our aunt had recovered from her alarm, we moved, creeping softly, in an opposite direction to the house, so that, should any person or persons be on the lookout, we might escape them; but by so doing, in those large and intricately laid out grounds, after an hour’s ramble we had literally lost ourselves.
“What shall we do now?” asked my brother, coming to a dead halt.
“Remain where we are till daybreak, when there will be light enough to show us the way back to our room,” said I.
“All right, old fellow,” he replied, coolly; “we have no alternative; in the meantime, let us make ourselves at home;” and he threw himself at full length upon a piece of green sward.
“Stay, Martin,” I said; “there is a glimmer yonder; surely it cannot be a glow-worm.”
“A glow-worm,” he repeated; “nonsense! It is the light from a lantern. Queer! who can be there at this time? let us see.”
As we approached the light, we found it proceeded from a small grotto-like hut, which we perceived to be within a few yards of the window of our room.
“This is lucky, for we know where we are; but before we go in, let us see what’s doing at this time of night; something wrong, I am sure. Stay,” he added, as we reached the walls; “can’t you hear voices?”
Martin was right; we could hear voices, very distinctly, too, and in anger; one was that of the slave, Prabu, the other the old snake-charmer’s.
“Well, well, old man,” Prabu was saying, in reply to something the other man had said, but which we had not heard; “you have explained why I find you in the grotto, but if my lady has condescendingly permitted you to remain here, it was not good that you should keep a light through the night to frighten honest people out of their wits.”