| CHAPTER I | CHAPTER II | CHAPTER III | CHAPTER IV | CHAPTER V |
| CHAPTER VI | CHAPTER VII | CHAPTER VIII | CHAPTER IX | CHAPTER X |
'Ayah,' the doctor-sahib said in the vernacular, standing besidethe bed, 'the fever of the mistress is like fire. Without doubtit cannot go on thus, but all that is in your hand to do you havedone. It is necessary now only to be very watchful. And it willbe to dress the mistress, and to make everything ready for ajourney. Two hours later all the sahib-folk go from this place inboats, by the river, to Allahabad. I will send an ox-cart to takethe mistress and the baby and you to the bathing ghat.'
'Jeldi karo!' he added, which meant 'Quickly do!'—a thing peoplesay a great many times a day in India.
The ayah looked at him stupidly. She was terribly frightened; shehad never been so frightened before. Her eyes wandered from thedoctor's face to the ruined south wall of the hut, where the sun ofJuly, when it happens to shine on the plains of India, was beatingfiercely upon the mud floor. That ruin had happened only an hourago, with a terrible noise just outside, such a near and terriblenoise that she, Tooni, had scrambled under the bed the mistress waslying on, and had hidden there until the doctor-sahib came andpulled her forth by the foot, and called her a poor sort of person.Then Tooni had lain down at the doctor-sahib's feet, and tried toplace one of them upon her head, and said that indeed she was not aworthless one, but that she was very old and she feared the guns;so many of the sahibs had died from the guns! She, Tooni, did notwish to die from a gun, and would the Presence, in the great mercyof his heart, tell her whether there would be any more shooting?There would be no more shooting, the Presence had said; and then hehad given her a bottle and directions, and the news about goingdown the river in a boat. Tooni's mind did not eve