Chapter XXXVI: From Darkness to Dawn

"I see a faint light," said Marian, touching the arm of the doctor just in front of her.

"It is the starlight at the mouth of the tunnel: this is a good time to strike another match."

All stood still while their leader rasped the phosphorus against the dry cement at his side. The tiny light did not give the view they sought, but it showed there was no need of stopping on the way.

Fifty feet further and the end of the tunnel was reached. They emerged from the mouth close to the river, wondering why it was they found no means of closing the entrance. It must have been hidden in some way, since one of the essentials of underground passages is secrecy. A moment later it was observed that there was quite a growth of vegetation around the mouth, which was not likely to be observed from the river or bank above.

The most natural thing to do first was to learn whether any of their foes were in sight. So far as they could see none of the Ghoojurs was within call, and the little company made their way to the water's edge, where they dipped up enough with their hands to quench their thirst.

"We have been fortunate beyond our deserts," said Mr. Hildreth, "and I have an abiding faith that we shall be delivered from all our perils. Luchman instructed us to approach the river bank a quarter of a mile above, but we have been unable to follow his directions, since the tunnel does not trend that way."

"We can soon reach the place which we may consider our starting point. Let's be off, for this is a chance that will not come a second time."

The stream upon whose bank they stood was insignificant at that time, though during the rainy season it was a huge muddy volume rolling tumultuously over the entire bed. The shore was dry and sandy, with trees scattered at rare intervals, the river showing the peculiarity that strikes the traveler in ascending the Ganges for the first time. The bed over which the water flowed was so soft and free from obstructions that the current made hardly any sound at all.

Like the Ganges, too, the waters were turbid, but the fugitives gladly drank from them. Possibly in time they might have acquired a liking for its roiled current, as do those who voyage up and down our own Mississippi.

Luchman had told them to lose no time, but to push on without thought of him. It was important, above everything else, to lessen the distance between them and Kurnal, and the few hours thus gained more than likely would be decisive of their fate.

All this time the Ghoojurs were squatted near the entrance to the temple, awaiting the coming of the fugitives.

The long, enforced rest made the exercise of walking acceptable to each, even though the night was suffocatingly hot. Mrs. Hildreth told her friends to feel no anxiety because of her, as she was able to walk a long way.

They followed the stream rather than any beaten path. Since the course of that in its upper portion was north and south, any one who traveled toward its source must draw near Kurnal.

A couple of miles further, they were startled by the appearance of a small boat, which shot around a curve in the stream above, and was upon them before they were aware. It contained five or six men, who were doubtless fully armed.

The fugitives could do nothing except to hide behind a clump of peepul trees, and hope for the best. The stream was so shallow that the occupants of the craft seemed to devote their whole efforts to prevent it from sticking fast on the numerous bars. It was this fact probably that prevented them catching sight of the figures on shore. The latter moved on as soon as the danger was past, and kept in the shelter of trees whenever possible. In this they were favored by the great number of groves which are scattered all through India, planted many years before by wealthy men, who thought thus to obtain enough merit to outweigh just such atrocities as their descendants were then committing.

The night was a memorable one to the fugitives, pushing steadily northward, knowing that in front was safety and behind was death. There had been other nights of more dangerous adventure, but somehow the feeling was within all that this was the crisis of their long and trying wanderings.

Directly in the east the glare of some conflagration was thrown against the sky. It was not far off, and it may have had no special significance, but to the fleeing fugitives it seemed to be a part of the lurid drama just opening, before which the whole civilized world was to stand aghast.

The friends indulged in little conversation, for all were oppressed with anxious thought. Where the nature of the ground permitted, Avery drew the arm of Marian within his own, and husband and wife did the same, for they were an example of beautiful love that grew brighter with the passage of years.

Eager as they were to push on they could not escape the enervating effect of the temperature, which at times seemed as if it would smother them. There are days and nights in the Deccan and other parts of India when only a salamander can be considered proof against the extreme heat.

All were moving languidly along, suffering greatly, when the missionary was overcome by a faintness which plainly was the result of the high temperature. It was a warning that it was death to disregard, and he knew it. Without any evidence of alarm he told his friends that he would have to ask them to allow him to rest for a brief while.

Fortunately, they were on the edge of a large grove at the time. Avery thought there was little to be feared from wild beasts, the monkeys, though in great numbers, being harmless. They sat down near the margin, where they decided to stay till morning, which could not be far away.

The elderly gentleman felt very ill, but he did not let the others know it, and they did not suspect that anything serious was the matter with him. He parried their inquiries so well that they concluded he needed nothing but rest. When he lay down on the ground and sank into slumber no one had a doubt that he would not be fully recovered in the morning. It may as well be said that they were not disappointed.

The night was well spent, and Dr. Avery told his friends to make themselves as comfortable as they could, for he intended to stay where they were until dawn.

But with such a smothering temperature comfort was out of the question. The leaves over their heads did not give out the faintest rustle, and the heat was of that trying nature which causes a person when sitting still to feel the perspiration trickling down his body, while the oppressed chest vainly seeks relief by means of deep, long drawn sighs.

The ladies spread their shawls on the ground, and Marian, resting her head against the tree behind her, compelled her mother to place hers in her lap. In this posture they at last fell asleep, and were not awakened until daylight. It was much the same with the missionary.

It was different, however, with Dr. Avery. He seemed to need little more sleep than Luchman himself, and he was so wide awake that he felt slumber was out of the question, no matter how hard he might try to woo it. So it was unnecessary to walk back and forth as he did while guarding the temple. With both guns at his side he threw himself upon the ground at the edge of the grove, while the other three were sleeping just within it.

"Confound it!" he growled, mopping his forehead; "talk about the Upper Nile and the Red Sea being hot, they can't beat this, for if they did no one would ever live to tell of it. If England had to live in India she would give her up in a jiffy. Now what would I do without this?"

Drawing a hookah from his pocket, he filled it with the tobacco which Luchman had procured for him at the same time, and, striking a match, smoked with the slow, deliberate enjoyment which cannot be appreciated by one who does not love the weed.

"My supply is rather scant, and this doesn't equal the cheroots I brought from Calcutta, but it beats nothing by a thousand per cent. It is such a solace in these horrible nights that I pity those who don't use it. How nice now it would be if Mr. Hildreth could enjoy a good pipe, and what a comfort for Mrs. Hildreth and Marian--Ah!" he exclaimed, "I must draw the line _there_."

He smoked until there were ashes only, when he refilled the cocoanut bowl.

"Kurnal isn't such a great distance from Delhi," he added, his thoughts drifting in another direction, "and it seems to me we have journeyed far enough to reach it, but I suppose our course has not always been a direct one--I declare!" he muttered, looking around in the grove, "I've heard that noise a dozen times; what can it mean?"