Then, as if desirous of summarily cutting short an inconvenient discussion, he returned to the original subject of conversation.

“From my point of view, for purely practical reasons I must regard it as a mistake that you should so soon give up your career in the Russian army, which has begun under the most favourable auspices.  A brilliant career is open to capable men of your stamp amongst us, for there is more elbow-room in our army than in yours.  But I know that it is useless to say anything further about it.  One word more!  You need not at once take off the uniform to which you do honour before you leave Simla.  To-morrow I am returning to Lahore, and during the march I beg you will still remain at the head of your squadron.  It will be safest for your English friends to travel with our column.  At Lahore you can do as you please.  Since the course of the campaign is in a south-easterly direction, the west is free, and you may possibly be able to travel by train for a considerable portion of the journey to Karachi.”

In this proposal Heideck recognised a fresh proof of the friendly disposition which the Prince had already so often shown towards him, and he was not slow to thank him most heartily.

The idea of being obliged to travel under the enemy’s protection was, of course, not a very pleasant one to Mr. Kennedy; but in the interests of the females who accompanied him he was bound to acquiesce in the arrangement, since there was really no better chance of reaching Karachi quickly and safely.

“You cannot imagine,” he said to Heideck, “how hard it is for me to leave India, so dearly purchased.  I have devoted twenty years of my life to it, years of hard, unremitting toil.  And now my work, like that of so many better men, is rendered useless at a single stroke.”

“You have spent two whole decades in India without a break?”

“Yes; I could not make up my mind to accompany my wife and daughter on their occasional visits to Europe for a few months’ relaxation.  I was passionately fond of my work, and I can hardly get over the idea that all is lost.  And it is lost; I am under no illusion as to that.  After the Russians have once set foot here, they will never give up the country again.  Their rule will be more firmly established than ours, since they are at heart much closer to the Indians than we are.”

. . . . . . .

On the following day they set out.

Mr. Kennedy and the ladies rode in a mail-coach drawn by four Australian horses, which had been originally intended for driving to the Anandale races.  He had brought with him his own English coachman, an English servant, and an English maid; he had paid off and discharged his numerous Indian servants before starting.

The march proceeded by way of Kalka, the last station on the railway to Simla, without any incidents, as far as Lahore.  Here Prince Tchajawadse was informed that the Russian army had started on the previous day for Delhi, and that he was to follow as rapidly as possible with his detachment.