eathing of the unseen men and the clattering of the feet of some
late-comer. Suddenly there rang out through the night the most appalling
sound that had ever assailed Wargrave's ears. It was as the cry of a
lost soul in all the agony of the damned, an eerie, unearthly wail that
froze the blood in the listeners' veins. In the invisible ranks men
shuddered and clutched at their neighbours.

"_Khuda ke Nam men, kiya hai?_ (In the Name of God, what is that?)"
gasped the subaltern.

The Indian officer at his side answered in a low voice:

"It is Ashraf Khan crying out in pain, Sahib. He is not yet dead."

"_Subhedar_ sahib, come with me," said Wargrave. "Let your _jemadar_
(lieutenant) take the men one by one into the guard-room and examine the
rifles to see if any have been fired. We don't know yet if the missing
sentry did the deed."

The _Subhedar_ (company commander) gave the order to his subordinate and
followed Wargrave to the barrack-room in which the crime had been
committed. The sight that met the subaltern's eyes was one that he was
not easily to forget.

The high-roofed chamber was in darkness save at one end where a small
lamp cast weird shadows on the walls and vaulting ceiling. At this end
and under the flickering light a group of figures stood round a bed on
which a man was writhing in agony. He was struggling in delirious frenzy
to hurl himself to the stone floor, and was only held down by the united
efforts of three men. From a bullet wound in his bared chest the
life-blood welled with every movement of his tortured body. He had been
shot in the back as he lay asleep. The lips covered with a bloody froth
were drawn back tightly over the white teeth clenched in agony, and red
foam lay on the black beard. Out of the sweat-bathed, ghastly face the
eyes glared in frenzy. The features were contorted with pain. Again and
again the wild shrieks like the howl of a mad thing rang through the
long room and out into the night.

With tear-filled eyes and heart torn with pity Wargrave looked down at
him in silence. Ashraf Khan was one of his best men. "But where is the
doctor sahib?" he asked the native officer suddenly.

The _subhedar_ stared and shook his head. In the excitement no one had
thought of sending for the medical officer. Wargrave turned to one of
the men around the bed.

"Mahbub Khan, run hard to the Mess and call the doctor sahib. Here,
stop!" He remembered that Macdonald did not possess a revolv