gateway through which, as they supposed, the British must, if at all, escape on horseback.
The troop now mounted, and trotted quietly away, making a wide detour, and then going straight toward Bithri. The moon had risen, and when about a mile and a half in front they could see the castle, Major Warrener, who with Captain Kent and the native guides was riding ahead, held up his hand. The troop came to a halt.
"There are some bullock carts just ahead. Take the mufflings off your horse's feet and ride on by yourself," he said to one of the native guides, "and see what is in the wagons, and where they are going."
The man did as ordered, but he needed no questions. The wagons were full of wounded men going to Bithri. He passed on with a word of greeting, turned his horse when he reached a wood a little in front and allowed them to pass, and then rode back to the troop.
"Four bullock carts full of wounded, sahib."
"The very thing," Major Warrener exclaimed; "nothing could be more lucky."
Orders were passed down the line that they were to ride along until the leaders were abreast of the first cart, then to halt and dismount suddenly. The drivers were to be seized, gagged and bound. The wounded were not to be injured.
"These men are not mutinous Sepoys, with their hands red with the blood of women," Major Warrener said; "they are peasants who have fought bravely for their country, and have done their duty, according to their light."
