kles of flame poured over the old bedticking, and upholstered chairs
from the dining-room. At the same instant Nevill called from the door of
his tower: "More cartridges, quick! I'm all out, and there are two chaps
trying to shin up the wall. Maieddine's not dead. He's there, directing
'em."

Stephen gave Nevill his own rifle, just reloaded. "Fetch the cartridges
stored in the dining-room," he said to Rostafel, "while we beat the fire
out with our coats." But there was no need for the Frenchman to leave
his post. "Here are the cartridges," said Victoria's voice, surprising
them. She had been at the door, which she held ajar, and behind this
screen had heard and seen all that passed. As Stephen took the box of
cartridges, she caught up the large pail of water which early in the
evening had been placed in the dining-room in case of need. "Take this
and put out the fire," she cried to Hamish, who snatched the bucket
without a word, and dashed its contents over the barricade.

Then she went back to Saidee, who sat on the blankets in a far corner,
shivering with cold, though the night was hot, and the room, with its
barred wooden shutters, close almost beyond bearing. They had kept but
one tallow candle lighted, that Victoria might more safely peep out from
time to time, to see how the fight was going.

"What if our men are all killed," Saidee whispered, as the girl stole
back to her, "and nobody's left to defend us? Cassim and Maieddine will
open the door, over their dead bodies, and then--then----"

"You have a revolver," said Victoria, almost angrily. "Not for them, I
don't mean that. Only--they mustn't take us. But I'm not afraid. Our
men are brave, and splendid. They have no thought of giving up. And if
Captain Sabine got our message, he'll be here by dawn."

"Don't forget the shot we heard."

"No. But the pigeon isn't our only hope. The signals!"

"Who knows if an answer came?"

"I know, because I know Stephen. He wouldn't have come down alive unless
he'd got an answer."

Saidee said no more, and they sat together in silence, Victoria holding
her sister's icy hand in hers, which was scarcely warmer, though it
tingled with the throbbing of many tiny pulses. So they listened to the
firing outside, until suddenly it sounded different to Victoria's ears.
She straightened herself with a start, listening even more intensely.

"What's the matter? What do you hear?" Saidee stammered, dry-lipped.

"I'm not sure. But