of the little force that
had already started from Allahabad, and boasted how easily they would
eat up the Feringhees. It seemed, however, to Bathurst that a good deal
of this confidence was assumed, and that among some, at least, there was
an undercurrent of doubt and uneasiness, though they talked as loudly
and boldly as their companions.

The townspeople were of two classes: there were the budmashes or roughs
of the place, who uttered brutal and ferocious jokes as to the probable
fate of the white women. There were others who kept in groups apart and
talked in low voices. These were the traders, to whom the events that
had taken place foreboded ruin. Already most of the shops had been
sacked, and many of the principal inhabitants murdered by the mob.
Those who had so far escaped, thanks in some instances to the protection
afforded them by Sepoy officers, saw that their trade was ruined, their
best customers killed, and themselves virtually at the mercy of the mob,
who might again break out upon the occasion of any excitement. These
were silent when Bathurst approached them. His attire, and the arms so
ostentatiously displayed in his sash, marked him as one of the dangerous
class, perhaps a prisoner from the jail whose doors had been thrown open
on the first night of the Sepoy rising.

For hours Bathurst remained in the neighborhood of the prison. The sun
set, and the night came on. Then a small party of soldiers came up and
relieved the sentries. This time the number of the sentries at the gate
was doubled, and three men were posted, one on each of the other sides
of the building. After seeing this done he returned to the house. After
he had finished his evening meal Rujub and Rabda came into the room.

"Now, sahib," the former said, "I think that we can tell you how the
lady is. Rabda has seen her, spoken to her, and touched her; there is
sympathy between them."

He seated Rabda in a chair, placed his hand on her forehead, and then
drew the tips of his fingers several times slowly down her face. Her
eyes closed. He took up her hand, and let it fall again. It was limp and
impassive. Then he said authoritatively, "Go to the prison." He paused a
moment.

"Are you there?"

"I am there," she said.

"Are you in the room where the ladies are?"

"I am there," she repeated.

"Do you see the lady Hannay?"

"I see her."

"How is she?"

"She is lying quiet. The other young lady is sitting beside her. The
lower p