attempt a
dash through the men in front, who had clearly not yet seen him, would
be too risky. There were more than a dozen men in the two parties, and
he could not hope to escape all their shots if they fired. He had but a
moment to decide, and in that moment he remembered the trick by which he
had escaped a somewhat similar peril when he was escorting the missy
sahib. With a quick movement he divested himself of the turban and the
chogah which betrayed him as a trader; then, bending low and crouching
forward, he gave a slight cry to attract the attention of the men in
front. Before they were all on their feet he was in their midst, and
murmuring "Feringhis!" pointed to the party stalking him behind, then
sank to the ground as if wounded or exhausted.

His ruse had the effect he had calculated upon. Many a time in the
course of the great struggle the mere hint that the sahibs were upon
them sufficed to throw panic into the mutineers' hearts. A moment's
reflection would have shown these men that they could scarcely have been
taken in reverse unwarned by their comrades in the house. But the
suddenness of the stranger's arrival, the darkness, the silence of the
approaching forms, combined to banish reason: without a moment's
hesitation they took to their heels, and scampered for safety away to
the left in the direction of Sabzi Mandi. Instantly Ahmed jumped to his
feet and set off at a headlong run towards the British lines. He had not
gone more than a hundred yards when he toppled over the edge of a nullah
and went souse into the muddy pool at the bottom. As he ran, he heard
sounds of conflict behind him. Apparently the men he had startled had
dashed heedlessly into those of their comrades who were stealing round
on the left. But the noise was almost immediately hushed: the mistake
had no doubt been discovered, and the rebels did not wish to bring the
Feringhis down upon them.

Dripping wet, bruised, and shaken, Ahmed groped his way along the nullah
for some distance, then scrambled up the bank. But in his relief at
escaping from the enemy he forgot his usual caution, and did not wait to
prospect the ground before leaving the nullah. He had gone but a few
paces, still running, when he heard a cry, "Who goes there?" Next moment
he tumbled over a man, fell with a thud against another, and while
struggling with rough hands laid upon him, realized that he had fallen
plump into a British outpost.

CHAPTER THE EIGHTE