could hardly endure the sight. By nine o'clock the
morning had become stiflingly hot. There was little or no breeze, and
Desmond, unused of late to active exercise, found the heat terribly
trying. But Bulger suffered still more. A stout, florid man, he toiled
along, panting, streaming with sweat, in difficulties so manifest, that
Desmond, eying him anxiously, feared lest a stroke of apoplexy should
bring him to an untimely end.

The country was so flat that a string of carts could not fail to be seen
from a long distance. If noticed from the towers of Hugli across the
river, curiosity, if not suspicion, would be aroused, and it would not
take long to send over by a ford a force sufficient to arrest and capture
the party. To escape observation it was necessary to make wide detours.
At several small hamlets on the route Desmond managed to get fresh oxen,
but not enough for complete changes of team.

So, through all the broiling heat of the day, at hours when no other
Europeans in all Bengal were out of doors, the convoy struggled on,
making its own road, crossing the dry beds of pools, skirting or laboring
over rugged nullahs.

At nightfall Desmond learned from one of the drivers that they were still
six miles short of being opposite to Hugli. The patient Bengalis could
endure no more; the oxen were done up, the men refused to go farther
without a rest. Halting at a hamlet some five miles from the river, they
rested and fed till midnight, then set off again. It was not so
insufferably hot at night, but on the other hand they were less able to
avoid obstructions: and the rest had not been long enough to make up for
the terrible exertions of the day.

By daybreak they were some distance past Hugli, still keeping about five
miles from the river. Desmond was beginning to congratulate himself that
the worst was over; Barrackpur was only about twelve miles away. But a
little after dawn he caught sight of a European on horseback crossing
their track towards the river. He was going at a walking pace, attended
by two syces {grooms}. Attracted, apparently, by the sight, unusual at
this time of year, of a string of hackeris, he wheeled his horse and
cantered towards the tail of the convoy, which was under Bulger's charge.

"Hai, hackeriwallah," he said in Urdu to the rearmost driver, "to whom do
these hackeris belong?"

"To the great Company, huzur. The sahib will tell you."

"The sahib--what sahib?" asked the rider in a