there are English lancers about. Let me free you, and you can perhaps escape to them."

Again he vehemently nodded refusal; but again she told him that it would be hopeless for her to attempt to run fast enough to reach them, while he might possibly do so, and thus call assistance that would give them both their liberty. For a long time he refused, and would insist on her looking to herself only. But when she whispered that they would soon be out of reach of the soldiers, for Meer Sooltan was now driving very fast over the rugged plain, and that it would be quite out of the question for both of them to slip down without the bundles over them sinking and thus attracting the attention of their captor, he consented, and held up his wrists for her to gnaw at with her poor wounded mouth. In time, only a very brief time too, but it seemed ages to both of them, she succeeded in biting through the tough leathern thongs; then Henry, with the utmost caution, and taking advantage of every jolt of the hackery over the rugged way, managed to get his feet close up to her mouth, and in due course she gnawed through the bonds that held them also, and her brother was mouth and limb free. Pressing a burning kiss on the bleeding lips that had worked so self-devotedly, the brother aited until the cart gave a tremendous jolt over a

stone and required all Meer Sooltan's skill to keep the bullocks from toppling over, slipped out of the open bottom of the cart, while Amy wriggled crossways so as to support the entire weight of the goods on top of her, and at once disappeared behind a mound of rock and scrub.

Heavens! how poor Amy's heart beat when she lost sight of him! It was a terrible risk to run-that of being left alone in such a fearful captivity—but the brave girl thought hardly at all for herself: all her anxiety was for the safety of that darling brother.

As soon as the hackery passed on, Henry looked round him, and his heart jumped almost into his mouth when he saw, apparently about half a mile off, a vedette of the English Lancers. Immediately he set off running in the direction. He dared not call out, but the soldier was gazing at some object on the opposite side, and it was not until the lad was within a few yards of him that he turned with a start, and placed his lance in rest, to resist the attack of one whom he imagined to be an Affghan fanatic rushing to the attack.

“A friend! a friend! For God's sake help me! I'm English!" shouted the boy as he gained the horse's side.

A few seconds sufficed to give the soldier (who was no other than our friend John Blunt) an idea of what was wanted; he raised his lance and waved it wildly towards his comrades, some of whom instantly spurred up to join him; while Henry implored one of the soldiers to dismount, lend him his horse and sword, so that he might be on the spot to rescue his sister. The good-natured fellow consented; Henry hastily buckled on the heavy sabre; jumped into the saddle; joined Blunt and three others who were advancing on the hackery at a rapid pace, and began to feel that at last there was a chance of salvation for both of them. In a very brief time they had come up parallel with the hackery. Blunt counselled their getting in advance of it, lest if Sooltan saw them following he might suspect something, examine his cargo, and murder the girl in revenge. Then they made for a tope of trees, which they were fortunate enough to get round without being observed, and placing the lad behind them, in order that his dress might not be recognised, they advanced towards the hackery as if they were a scouting party returning to Ghuznee from a reconnaissance. But when they got within a short distance of Meer Sooltan, the sharp scoundrel detected Henry Merton's Affghan disguise. Quick as thought he jumped off his cart with a loud cry of treachery; seized from under his seat a