Life in the Eagle's Nest by Charlotte Maria Tucker

"The post-dák at last! " exclaimed Walter Gurney, springing to his feet, as, encompassed by a cloud of dust, the vehicle for which he had been watching appeared in the distance, the flourish of a horn announcing its approach. The youth had been reclining under the shade of a peepul tree, at the side of the road which led to a frontier station on the border line which divides India from the land of the Afghans. The post had always to be met at this point by Walter, as the horses were never turned down the rude road which led to a missionary's bungalow, situated about two miles off, almost close to a native village. The Rev. William Gurney, till his death, which had occurred about two months ere my story opens, had always dwelt amongst his poor flock, "the world forgetting, by the world forgot. " The missionary's sole companion had been Walter, his only son, whom he had himself educated in India, the neighbourhood of mountains preventing the absolute necessity of his sending his motherless boy to England.

This was the third time that Walter had anxiously gone to meet the home mail. By his dying father's desire he had remained at Santgunge till he should receive a letter from his grandmother in London, in answer to the announcement of the missionary's death. Walter could not form any plans for his own future till he should hear from the nearest relative now left to him upon earth.