"Girls!" said Ned, "put your dark shawls round you. It may be nothing, but it is better to be prepared. Get the bundles out. Dick, put a bottle of wine in your pocket, and let us all fill our pockets with biscuits."
Silently and quietly the others did as he told them.
"There is that great biscuit-tin full," Ned said, when they had filled their pockets; "let us empty it into that cloth and tie it up. Now, if you will put your shawls on I will look in at the stables."
In a couple of minutes he returned.
"The horses are all unharnessed," he said, "and not a soul is to be seen. Ah, is that Saba?"
The old nurse had been found asleep in her favorite place outside the door of her young mistresses' room.
"Do you know what is the matter, Saba?—all the servants are gone!"
The old nurse shook her head. "Bad news; no tell Saba."
"Now, Saba, get ready to start"—for the nurse had declared that she would accompany them, to go into the villages to buy food; "Dick, come with me; we will put one of the horses into the dogcart."
They were leaving the room when they heard the sound of a rifle. As if it were the signal, in a moment the air rang with rifle shots, shouts, and yells. The boys leaped back into the room and caught up the bundles.
"Quick, for your lives, girls!—some of them are not fifty yards off! To the bushes! Come, Saba!"
"Saba do more good here," the old nurse said; and seated herself quietly in the veranda.
It was but twenty yards to the bushes they had marked as the place of concealment; and as they entered and crouched down there came the sound of hurrying feet and a band of Sepoys, led by one of the jemadars, or native officers, rushed up to the veranda from the back.
