In Times of Peril | Page 2

on their mats,
mend their clothes, talk and sleep; and it is wonderful how much sleep
a Hindoo can get through in the twenty-four hours. The veranda is his
bedroom as well as sitting-room; here, spreading a mat upon the ground,
and rolling themselves up in a thin rug or blanket from the very top of
their head to their feet, the servants sleep, looking like a number of
mummies ranged against the wall. Out by the stables they have their
quarters, where they cook and eat, and could, if they chose, sleep; but
they prefer the coolness and freshness of the veranda, where, too, they
are ready at hand whenever called. The gardens were all pretty, and
well kept, with broad, shady trees, and great shrubs covered by bright
masses of flower; for Sandynugghur had been a station for many years,
and with plenty of water and a hot sun, vegetation is very rapid.
In two of the large reclining chairs two lads, of fifteen and sixteen
respectively, were lolling idly; they had been reading, for books lay
open in their laps, and they were now engaged in eating bananas, and in
talking to two young ladies, some three years their senior, who were
sitting working beside them.
"You boys will really make yourselves ill if you eat so many bananas."
"It is not that I care for them," said the eldest lad; "they are tasteless
things, and a good apple is worth a hundred of them; but one must do
something, and I am too lazy to go on with this Hindoo grammar;

besides, a fellow can't work when you girls come out here and talk to
him."
"That's very good, Ned; it is you that do all the talking; besides, you
know that you ought to shut yourselves up in the study, and not sit here
where you are sure to be interrupted."
"I have done three hours' steady work this morning with that wretched
Moonshi, Kate; and three hours in this climate is as much as my brain
will stand."
Kate Warrener and her brothers, Ned and Dick, were the children of the
major of the One Hundred and Fifty-first Bengal Native Infantry, the
regiment stationed at Sandynugghur. Rose Hertford, the other young
lady, was their cousin. The three former were born in India, but had
each gone to England at the age of nine for their education, and to save
them from the effects of the climate which English children are seldom
able to endure after that age. Their mother had sailed for England with
Dick, the youngest, but had died soon after she reached home. Dick had
a passion for the sea, and his father's relations having good interest, had
obtained for him a berth as a midshipman in the royal navy, in which
rank he had been serving for upward of a year. His ship being now in
Indian waters, a month's leave had been granted him that he might go
up the country to see his father. The other lad had arrived from England
three months before, with his sister and cousin. Major Warrener had
sent for his daughter, whose education was finished, to take the head of
his house, and, as a companion, had invited Rose Hertford, who was
the orphan child of his sister, to accompany her. Ned, who had been at
Westminster till he left England, was intended for the Indian army. His
father thought that it would be well for him to come out to India with
his sister, as he himself would work with him, and complete his
education, to enable him to pass the necessary examination--then not a
very severe one--while he could be at the same time learning the native
languages, which would be of immense benefit to him after he had
entered the army. Coming out as they had done in the cold season, none
of the four exhibited any of that pallor and lassitude which, at any rate
during the summer heats, are the rule throughout the Anglo-Indian

community.
As Ned finished his sentence the sound of the tread of two horses was
heard along the road.
"Captains Dunlop and Manners," Dick exclaimed; "a shilling to a
penny! Will either of you bet, girls?"
Neither his sister nor cousin replied to this offer; and the boys gave a
sly nod of intelligence to each other, as two horsemen rode up to the
veranda and dismounted; throwing their reins to the syces, who,
whatever the pace at which their masters ride, run just behind, in
readiness to take the horses, should they dismount.
"Good-morning, Miss Warrener; good-morning, Miss Hertford: we
have brought you some interesting news."
"Indeed!" said the girls, as they shook hands with the newcomers, who
were two as good specimens of tall, well-made,