CHAPTER II.

  ON AN AFTERNOON.

  Almost due east from Delhi Dr. Hugh Marlowe, a venerable Americanphysician, had lived for more than twenty years. Since the death ofhis wife, six years previous to the Mutiny, he had dwelt alone with hisonly daughter, Mary, and their single servant, Mustad, a devoutMussulman. A portion of the time mentioned had been passed without thesociety of his beloved child, who spent several years in New England(where the physician himself was born and had received his education)at one of the fashionable schools.

  Shortly after her graduation, Miss Marlowe met Jack Everson, fresh fromYale, and the acquaintance ripened into mutual love, though the filialaffection of the young woman was too profound to permit her to form anengagement with the young man until the consent of her father wasobtained, and he would not give that consent until he had met andconversed with the young gentleman face to face and taken his measure,as may be said.

  "If he doesn't esteem you enough to make a little journey like the onefrom America to this country he isn't worth thinking about."

  "But he _will_ make the journey," said the blushing daughter, pattingthe bronzed cheek of the parent whom she idolized as much as heidolized her.

  "Don't be to sure of that, my young lady; romantic young girls like youhave altogether too much faith in the other sex."

  "But he _has_ started," she added with a sly smile.

  "He has, eh? He will change his mind before he reaches here. How farhas he got?"

  "He was due in England many weeks ago."

  "Well, well! How soon will he arrive _here_?"

  "I think he is due now."

  "Very probably, but his fancy will give out before he reaches thisout-of-the-way place."

  "I think not, papa."

  "Of course not, of course not; I just told you that that is the waywith all foolish girls like you."

  The old gentleman had assumed a stern earnestness, and he added: "Itell you he will never show himself here! I know what I'm talkingabout."

  "But he _is_ here, papa; let me introduce you to Jack Everson, aphysician like yourself."

  All this time the smiling young man was standing directly behind theold doctor, who was lazily reclining in a hammock on the shaded lawn,smoking a cheroot, while his daughter sat on a camp stool, with onehand resting on the edge of the hammock, so as to permit her gently tosway it back and forth. As she spoke the tall, muscular Americanwalked forward and extended his hand.

  "Doctor, I am glad to make your acquaintance," he said, in his cheeryway. The astonished physician came to an upright position like theclicking of the blade of a jackknife, and meeting the salutation,exclaimed:

  "Well, I'll be hanged! I never knew a girl so full of nonsense andtricks as Mary. You are welcome, doctor, to my house; let me have alook at you!"

  Jack Everson laughingly stepped hack a couple of paces and posed forinspection. The elder deliberately drew his spectacle case from hispocket, adjusted the glasses and coolly scrutinized the young man fromhead to foot.

  "You'll do," he quietly remarked, removing his glasses and returningthem to the morocco case; "now, if you'll be good enough to seatyourself, we'll talk over matters until dinner time. When did youarrive?"

  Jack seated himself on the remaining camp stool, a few paces from thehappy young lady, accepted a cheroot from his host, and theconversation became general. Like most Americans, when at home ortravelling, Jack Everson kept his eyes and ears open. He heard atCalcutta, his starting point, at Benares, Allahabad, Cawnpore and otherplaces, the whisperings of the uprising that was soon to come, and hisalarm increased as he penetrated the country.

  "Worse than all," he said gravely, speaking of his trip, "one of mybearers spoke English well, and quite an intimacy sprang up between us.Since his companions could not utter a word in our language, weconversed freely without being understood. He was reticent at firstconcerning the impending danger and professed to know nothing of it,but this forenoon be gave me to understand, in words that could not bemistaken, that the whole country would soon be aflame withinsurrection."

  "Did he offer any advice?" asked Dr. Marlowe, less impressed with thenews than was his visitor or his daughter.

  "He did; he said that the escape of myself and of your family could besecured only by leaving this place at the earliest moment possible."

  "But whither can we go? We are hundreds of miles from the seacoast andshould have to journey for weeks through a country swarming withenemies."

  "I asked him that question, and his answer was that we should make forNepaul."

  "That is the province to the east of us. It is a mountainous country,a long way off, and hard to reach. Why should he advise us to gothither?"

  "I questioned him, but he seemed to fear that his companions would growsuspicious over our conversation and he said nothing more. I thoughthe would add something definite when we came to separate, and, toloosen his tongue, I gave him an extra fee, but he added never a word,and, unless I am mistaken, regretted what he had already said."

  "It seems to me," observed the daughter, "that the man knew it isimpossible for us to get to the seacoast, and believed that by goingfurther into the interior we should reach the people who are notaffected by the insurrection. Wide as it may be, there must be manypoints that will not feel it."

  "That is the true reason," said her parent, "but, confound it! I havelived in this spot for twenty years; the little town of Akwar liesnear, and there is hardly a person in it who has not been my patient.I am known even in Meerut and Delhi, and I can hardly believe themutineers, for such they seem to be, will harm me or my friends."

  "You once told me," replied Mary, "that when an appeal was made to thereligion of this people they knew no such thing as fear or mercy."

  "And I told you the truth," said her father gravely. "But since wehave weapons and plenty of ammunition, and know how to handle thefirearms we shall not be led like lambs to the slaughter."

  "That is true enough," said Jack, "but it will be of little avail, whenour enemies are numbered by the hundred and perhaps the thousand."

  "I take it, then, that you favor an abandonment of our home?"

  "I do, and with the least possible delay."

  "And you, my daughter, are you of the same mind?"

  "I am," was the emphatic response.

  "Then my decision is that we shall start for the interior and staythere 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 earlyto-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 everydirection. We shall have to travel for the first two or three daysthrough a thick jungle, and it is too dangerous work to undertake inthe night-time. This, you know, is the land of the cobra and thetiger, not to mention a few other animals and reptiles equallyunpleasant in their nature. Last night," continued the doctor, "I sawa glare in the sky off to the westward on the opposite side of theriver in the direction of Meerut. I wonder what it meant?"

  "By Jove!" exclaimed Jack, "that explains something that the palanquinbearer said to me about there being so many Inglese where there arenone to-day. I could not catch his meaning, though he mentionedMeerut. But he gave me to understand that it was not quite time yetfor the uprising, which would come in a few weeks."

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