Bathurst saw a wall surrounding a courtyard. On one side was a
house. It had evidently been besieged, for in the upper part were
many ragged holes, and two of the windows were knocked into one.
On the roof were men firing, and there were one or two women among
them. He could see their faces and features distinctly. In the
courtyard wall there was a gap, and through this a crowd of Sepoys
were making their way, while a handful of whites were defending
a breastwork. Among them he recognized his own figure. He saw
himself club his rifle and leap down into the middle of the Sepoys,
fighting furiously there. The colors faded away, and the room was
in darkness again. There was the crack of a match, and then Rujub
said quietly, "If you will lift off the globe again, I will light
the lamp, sahib."

Bathurst almost mechanically did as he was told.

"Well, sahib, what do you think of the pictures?"

"The first was true," Bathurst said quietly, "though, how you knew
I was with the regiment that stormed the village at Chillianwalla
I know not. The second is certainly not true."

"You can never know what the future will be, sahib," the juggler
said gravely.

"That is so," Bathurst said; "but I know enough of myself to say
that it cannot be true. I do not say that the Sepoys can never be
fighting against whites, improbable as it seems, but that I was
doing what that figure did is, I know, impossible."