Barclay of the Guides. Herbert Strang

in the hands of Allah," said Ahsan, trying to quiet him. "What is to be will be. But that thou hast Feringhi blood in thee, Ahmed-ji, thou wouldst not be so disturbed. We cannot hasten the dark; we cannot speak through the air to warn the master. But look what Allah can do; they have halted again."

      And pointing over the parapet, he showed that the dark irregular shadow had rested a little lower down the hill, upon which lay the glow of the now setting sun.

      As soon as the dusk was merging towards dark, Ahmed was let down by the rope. Ahsan had promised to hold out against any attack that Minghal might make. Then, creeping stealthily along by the foot of the wall, he continued till he came to a place where the ground was broken by a nullah, into which he leapt, and ran along its dry bottom at full speed until he arrived safely in the hills. By this time it was quite dark; but the moon was just rising, and in a little he was able by its light to guide his steps so that he did not stumble into a ravine or trip over a salient rock.

      As he came near the place where the outpost was stationed he went very cautiously. The men had taken shelter in a rude shepherd's cairn; he saw the faint glow of their charcoal fire and heard their voices as he slipped by. Then he pushed on at greater speed, choosing a course in which he would never come within sight of the men, however carefully they might keep watch. At one spot he halted and looked behind, to catch a last glimpse of the tower before he rounded the base of a hill that would hide it from view. The moon was shining full upon it, and he hoped that the enemy would defer their threatened attack, as at the first attempt, until the door was shrouded in darkness.

      On and on he hastened, for mile after mile, running down the slopes where he could, wading brooks, climbing bluffs, doggedly, without rest. When he came to an eminence where he could scan a long stretch of the comparatively level ground over which the horsemen would come, he looked eagerly for some sign of them; but though the greyish soil shone white in the moonlight and the outlines of things were very clear, he failed to descry them, and could not but think that they had encamped for the night. If it was so, still greater was the necessity for speed, since at any moment the attack on the tower might be begun and the frail barricade forced or blown up.

      Every now and again he paused for a moment to listen, both for sounds from the village behind him and for the hoofs of the horses. In the still air of the night the crack of musket-shots might well reach him if the assault on the tower were begun. But he heard nothing save the rustle of falling water or the cry of a jackal, and he went on again, buoyed up by a great hope that he might be in time.

      At length, heated and weary, after breasting a steep knoll he espied, in a well-sheltered hollow far below him, the glow of camp fires. With the caution habitual in a hill-man he crept down warily; if he should blunder on a hostile party the chances of saving the village and warning his father would be small indeed. Taking cover from bushes and angular projections of the hillside, he drew nearer and nearer to the camp. He had little fear of encountering a sentry, for the Pathans, in some matters highly cautious, are in others equally careless. And thus he came within earshot of the camp, and, lying flat on his face, peered down to spy if the men there were or were not his friends.

      Now he was able to see the dark forms of a number of horses tethered to trees beyond the camp, and in the middle of the hollow, around the fires, the shapes of sleeping men. Still he was unable to distinguish them. He wriggled forward on all fours until he was within a spear-cast of them, and then caught sight of the red turban which his father always wore. No other man of the tribe wore a turban of that colour; but still it might be affected by one of another tribe, and Ahmed was not yet satisfied. So he crept very stealthily round the encampment until he reached the line of horses, and his heart leapt with delight when, on the very first of the line, he recognized the housings of Rahmut Khan's favourite arab. He hesitated no longer, but gave a low hail, and rising to his feet walked down towards the fires. His call, low as it was, had reached the ears of several of the men and of the chief himself. They rose, gripping their long muskets that lay beside them, and as they recognized Ahmed, they came forward to meet him, and asked him eagerly the meaning of this nocturnal visit.

      It did not take him long to explain what had happened. Growling with anger, but breaking off to speak a fond word of approbation to Ahmed, the old chief called to his men to mount their horses. "Bah!" he cried, with a scornful intonation, "we will see if the eagle cannot deal with the night-hawk."

      The blood of the old warrior was up; Minghal should rue the day when he conceived the folly of setting himself in rivalry to Rahmut Khan.

      The chief was quick to form his plan. The first thing was to guard against any alarm among Minghal's men. It was necessary to silence the two men of the outpost. This would cause some delay, but it was of the first importance that they should neither see nor hear the advancing body, since by firing their matchlocks they could put their comrades in the village on the alert.

      It was seven miles from the camp to the outpost. Rahmut durst not ride towards it with his full body of men, for the clatter of fifty horses' hoofs could not fail to be heard. Yet the case was urgent, for very soon, perhaps even at this moment, the tower might be assaulted. Delay there must be, but to lessen it as much as possible Rahmut decided to muffle the hoofs of three of the horses with strips of blanket, and to send three of his men with Ahmed to surprise the outpost. Meanwhile he himself with the rest of his party would ride in a circular course to the southward, so that they might sweep round the dangerous point at sufficient distance to be out of earshot.

      The muffling was soon done, and the three chosen men set off, Ahmed being mounted behind one of them. Following his directions, they came unerringly to within a short distance of the hillock upon which the scouts were posted. Then they dismounted, and, Ahmed leading the way, they crept round and up so as to come on the men from above. The scouts were reclining in the cairn behind the fire, still talking in low tones. There was a sudden rush, a cry, a wild scuffle, and then silence.

      Their task accomplished, the four returned to their horses and galloped across the country to join the main body, whom they met at the appointed rendezvous, a copse on rising ground some three miles south of the village. From that point Rahmut had decided to make the advance on foot, so that the chances of premature discovery by the enemy should be diminished. The moon was sinking in the sky; they could not see the tower from the place where they dismounted; but the favourable moment for Minghal's intended assault had certainly now come, and Ahmed expected within a little to hear the sound of firing.

      The whole party, save a few men left to guard the horses, set off at a rapid march towards the village. It was possible that as they approached it a keen look-out might descry them from the tower, but they would be invisible to any one on a lower level. True, a man perched on the wall might see them; but Minghal, having posted scouts on a hillock commanding all the surrounding country for several miles, would be little likely to take this extra precaution.

      Marching rapidly, the party had come within a few hundred yards of the village wall when they heard an explosion, followed by cries and the crack of muskets. The assault had begun. The gates being shut, it was only possible to enter the village by climbing the wall, and Ahmed led the band at the double to the spot where he had mounted when he fired the powder in the shed. Shouts and the sound of firing still came from the village; it was clear that a desperate fight was in progress; and since the din must drown all other noises, Rahmut's troops made no effort towards silence, but rushed with all speed.

      The place for which Ahmed was making was on the opposite side of the village from the tower. Thus it was possible to climb the wall without attracting the attention of the enemy. Ahmed was first up; while some of the men were following him one by one he ran round to the gate on the chance that it might be left unguarded. He would then throw it open and give admittance to the rest of his party. But when he came within sight of it he found that a sentry was on guard there. He dared not risk the sound of a scuffle, so he slipped back to his friends and waited until the whole party had climbed the wall. Then, drawing his talwar, Rahmut put himself at the head of his men and led them through the streets towards the tower.

      Their advance was not at first seen, for the villagers, drawn out of their houses by the sounds of fighting, had flocked to the neighbourhood of the tower, and were watching the progress of Minghal's