ell impregnable, thanks to the jolly old bandit, or whatever he
was, who used to retire here with his doubtless ill-gotten gains! And as
they had forgotten to provide themselves with any means of reaching
these windows the attack failed, so to speak."

"I gather you were looking out? Any casualties?" Anstice put the
question coolly; and young Garnett grinned.

"Yes, siree--one for which by the grace of God I may consider myself
responsible. They were all arguing in the courtyard below when I gave
them a kind of salute from up here, and by gosh, you should have seen
the beggars scatter! One of them got it in the thigh, at least so I
deduce from the fact that he had to be assisted away, groaning!"

"They didn't return?"

"No. Clambered over the wall and made tracks for home, sweet home
instanter."

"To tell you the truth, Dr. Anstice"--it was Mr. Wood who spoke, and
Anstice turned quickly towards him--"I do not myself believe that they
will attack us again at present. They have now found it impossible to
force an entrance unseen; and I should not be surprised if their plan of
campaign included waiting, and trying to starve us out. A policy of
masterly inaction, so to speak."

"Do you know, I rather agree with the Padre," said Garnett thoughtfully.
"Of course they have not a notion that we have sent for help; and though
they saw Dr. Anstice arrive with Hassan, it is quite possible that in
the dusk they thought it was one of us who had made a futile sortie with
the Arab."

"I daresay you are right," said Anstice thoughtfully. "But I suppose you
do not propose we should relax our vigilance on that account?"

"No." Mr. Wood looked keenly at the speaker, and appeared reassured by
something he read in the other's face. "Last night we watched both this
window and that of the other room--the one where Mr. Cheniston is
lying----"

"It is unfortunate that he should be in one of the rooms where there is
a possibility of trouble," said Anstice, rather worried by the notion.
"I suppose the others are really uninhabitable?"

"Well, there is no possibility of admitting sufficient air," said Mrs.
Wood practically. "There is a little hole where we snatch a moment's
rest now and then, but for a man with fever----"

"No, I suppose he must stay where he is." Anstice genuinely regretted
the necessity. "The only thing to do is to try to draw the enemy's fire
to the other window, if occasion arises. Now, how do we divide our
force