"Thank God for that," Major Warrener said. "If they have not yet been
taken to that horrible den of murder we will save them. I am the father of
one, and the other is my niece," he said to the zemindar; "and I owe their
lives so far to you. The debt of gratitude I can never pay to you--or to
your wife and daughter," he added, turning to the women, who, their first
impulse of alarm over, had now, in the presence of friends, uncovered
their faces, for it is only the higher class of Hindoo women who closely
veil--"for your care in nursing my niece, and for giving them shelter,
when to do so was to risk your lives. This debt I can never pay; but the
losses you have sustained in the destruction of your house, and the loss
of animals, I can happily more than replace. And now tell me how it
happened."

"It was late in the afternoon," the Hindoo said, "when a body of horse
galloped across the field to my door. Their captain rode up to me. 'Are
there any Feringhees hid here, old man?' he asked. 'I have seen no man of
the white race since the troubles began,' I said; and you know I spoke not
falsely. 'I must search the house,' he said; 'there are a party of
fugitives hiding somewhere in this district, and the orders from Delhi are
strict that every Feringhee is to be hunted down and sent there.' 'You
will find no one here,' I said, 'but my women, one of whom is sick.' 'I
must see them,' he said; and he knocked loudly at the door of the women's
room, and ordered them to come out. My wife and daughter came to the door.
'Where is the one who is said to be sick?' he said; 'I must see her too.'
Then, seeing that he was determined to enter, the young _mem_ sahib came
to the door. The captain gave a shout of pleasure; calling in his men, he
entered the room, and, in spite of the entreaties of her sister, brought
the one who was sick out also. She was able to walk, but, as we had agreed
between us should be done if discovery was made, she pretended that she
was almost at the point of death. Some poles were got; a hammock was made;