ior and stay
there until it is safe to show ourselves again among these people,
provided it ever shall be safe."

"When shall you start?"

The parent looked at the sky.

"It is two or three hours to nightfall. We will set out early
to-morrow morning before the sun is high in the sky."

"But will we not be more liable to discovery?" asked Jack.

"Not if we use care. I am familiar with the country for miles in every
direction. We shall have to travel for the first two or three days
through a thick jungle, and it is too dangerous work to undertake in
the night-time. This, you know, is the land of the cobra and the
tiger, not to mention a few other animals and reptiles equally
unpleasant in their nature. Last night," continued the doctor, "I saw
a glare in the sky off to the westward on the opposite side of the
river in the direction of Meerut. I wonder what it meant?"

"By Jove!" exclaimed Jack, "that explains something that the palanquin
bearer said to me about there being so many Inglese where there are
none to-day. I could not catch his meaning, though he mentioned
Meerut. But he gave me to understand that it was not quite time yet
for the uprising, which would come in a few weeks."

"Those things are apt to be precipitated. I have no doubt that the
mutineers burned the city last night. If so, the main body will hurry
to Delhi, which, being the ancient capital of the Mogul Empire, will
become the new one. Some of the rebels may take it into their heads to
come in this direction. What is the matter, Dr. Everson?"

CHAPTER III.

YANKEE MARKSMANSHIP.

As Jack Everson was seated he faced the broad, sluggish Ganges, with
the low, green banks beyond. He was looking over the water, in the
rays of the declining sun, when he saw something that caused him to
rise hastily from his seat and peer earnestly across the river toward
the opposite shore. Observing his action, the doctor asked his
question. Both he and his daughter, rising to their feet, gazed in the
same direction. It was easy to see what had attracted the attention of
their guest. A party of horsemen, fully twenty, if not more, in
number, had approached the river and were now halted on the other side,
looking across in the direction of Dr. Marlowe's home, as if debating
the question of making it a visit.

"Let me get my glass," said Mary, starting toward the house, hardly a
hundred feet distant.

"Allow me to bring it," interrupted