The syce had run all the way back, and told his master that some Englishmen had been attacked by the Dacoits, and that a young sahib had only just escaped being carried away by Hari Rām himself. Mr. Macgregor was on the point of starting to see what had happened when the two young people entered the compound.
"Hullo, Vansie, what's up?" he called out. "Is this the young man who was beset by the Dacoits?"
"Yes, father," said Vansie, springing lightly to the ground. "He's all right, but there's a smashed-up tumtum, and the police superintendent badly hurt. You must send for him at once."
The Scotchman whistled.
"I wonder what the Government is about, to let this thing go on?"
"It's a shameful state of affairs! a perfect disgrace!" said Mr. Macgregor indignantly. "Walk in, sir," and he was leading the way into the bungalow, when his daughter interfered, saying—
"Father, you must send a palki off at once."
"Allah Baksh," called out Mr. Macgregor, "see that two palkis and bearers are got ready sharp. Tell Miss Sahiba's syce to go with you, he knows the place."
"If you will excuse me," said Gilbert, "I'll go on to Pokharia without delay. It is important that the people there should know we were coming with help, and how we have been stopped."
"Of course it is," said Mr. Macgregor, "but you cannot go alone. As soon as we've had breakfast, I'll go with you."