instantly, with a rapid noiseless movement, arose and bent himself
before her.

"The _mem-sahib_ will pardon her servant," he said, and she saw that his
dark face was twisted with emotion. "But there is bad news for her
to-day. The captain _sahib_ has gone."

"Gone!" Stella echoed the word uncomprehendingly, as one who speaks an
unknown language.

Peter's look fell before the wide questioning of hers. He replied almost
under his breath: "_Mem-sahib_, it was in the still hour of the night.
The captain _sahib_ slept on the mountain, and in his sleep he fell--and
was taken away by the stream."

"Taken away!" Again, numbly, Stella repeated his words. She felt
suddenly very weak and sick.

Peter stretched a hand towards the inscrutable stranger. "This man,
_mem-sahib_," he said with reverence, "he is a holy man, and while
praying upon the mountain top, he saw the _sahib_, sunk in a deep sleep,
fall forward over the rock as if a hand had touched him. He came down
and searched for him, _mem-sahib_; but he was gone. The snows are
melting, and the water runs swift and deep."

"Ah!" It was a gasp rather than an exclamation. Stella was blindly
tottering against the tent-rope, clutching vaguely for support.

The great Sikh caught her ere she fell, his own distress subdued in a
flash before the urgency of her need. "Lean on me, _mem-sahib!_" he