She had risen from the sofa in the middle of the room and stood with a serious, but perfectly composed face, and with bright eyes, which appeared prepared for even the extremest danger.  Mrs. Baird was, with her two little girls, in a corner on her knees.  So completely was she absorbed in her religious devotions that she had not heard Heideck’s entrance into the room.  It was only when Edith exclaimed, “Here is Mr. Heideck, dear friend; I knew he would come,” that she sprang up in great excitement.

“Thank God!  You have come from my husband?  How have you left him?  Is he alive?”

“I left the Colonel, as he was defending himself at the head of his brave troops against the enemy.  He bade me give you his love.”  He had endeavoured to give a firm tone to his voice.  But the sharp feminine instinct of the unhappy woman guessed what was behind his words, intended to give comfort.

“Why don’t you tell me the truth?  My husband is dead!”

“He was wounded, but you need not give up the hope of seeing him again alive.”

“If he is wounded, I will go to him.  You will conduct me, Mr. Heideck!  There must be a possibility of getting to him.”

“I earnestly beseech you, my dear Mrs. Baird, to compose yourself.  It is quite natural that your heart should draw you to your husband’s side; but it is quite impossible for you to carry out your intention.  The night is drawing on, and even if it were broad daylight nobody would be able to get through the confusion of the retiring army to the place where your husband must be sought.”

“The battle is then lost?  Our army is in full retreat?”

“The treachery of the Indian troops is to blame for this disaster.  Your countrymen, Mrs. Baird, have fought like heroes, and as a lost battle does not yet mean a lost campaign, they will perhaps soon retrieve to-day’s disaster.”

“But what is to become of us?  The wounded will be brought in here, won’t they?  Therefore I shall not think of leaving before I see my husband again.”

Her determination to remain in the panic-stricken city would certainly have been impossible to shake by any art of persuasion, but Heideck did not dream of attempting to dissuade Mrs. Baird from her resolve.  It was his firm conviction that the flight to Amritsar, which the Colonel had advised in case of a defeat, was, under the present circumstances, quite impracticable.  As a matter of fact, there was scarcely anything else possible but to remain in the hotel and patiently await the development of events.

It was now quite impossible for white women and children to trust themselves in the streets in the midst of the excited populace; but Heideck believed that they were, for the present, quite safe in the house, thinking that the fanaticism of the natives would not culminate in an attack upon the hotel so long as any considerable body of English soldiers remained in the town.  But only too soon he was compelled to admit that he