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"No."

"What business is it of yours, then?"

"It's every man's business to see justice done."

"You can take my word that she is innocent."

"Then you are guilty."

"No, I am not."

"Who killed Colonel James Barclay, then?"

"It was a just providence that killed him.

But, mind you this, that if I had knocked his brains out, as it was in my heart to do, he would have had no more than his due from my hands.

If his own guilty conscience had not struck him down it is likely enough that I might have had his blood upon my soul.

You want me to tell the story.

Well, I don't know why I shouldn't, for there's no cause for me to be ashamed of it.

"It was in this way, sir.

You see me now with my back like a camel and my ribs all awry, but there was a time when Corporal Henry Wood was the smartest man in the 117th foot.

We were in India then, in cantonments, at a place we'll call Bhurtee.

Barclay, who died the other day, was sergeant in the same company as myself, and the belle of the regiment, ay, and the finest girl that ever had the breath of life between her lips, was Nancy Devoy, the daughter of the color-sergeant.

There were two men that loved her, and one that she loved, and you'll smile when you look at this poor thing huddled before the fire, and hear me say that it was for my good looks that she loved me.

"Well, though I had her heart, her father was set upon her marrying Barclay.

I was a harum-scarum, reckless lad, and he had had an education, and was already marked for the sword-belt.

But the girl held true to me, and it seemed that I would have had her when the Mutiny broke out, and all hell was loose in the country.

"We were shut up in Bhurtee, the regiment of us with half a battery of artillery, a company of Sikhs, and a lot of civilians and women-folk.

There were ten thousand rebels round us, and they were as keen as a set of terriers round a rat-cage.

About the second week of it our water gave out, and it was a question whether we could communicate with General Neill's column, which was moving up country.

It was our only chance, for we could not hope to fight our way out with all the women and children, so I volunteered to go out and to warn General Neill of our danger.

My offer was accepted, and I talked it over with Sergeant Barclay, who was supposed to know the ground better than any other man, and who drew up a route by which I might get through the rebel lines.

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