of men, though where he could not tell. Far down the cleft
there was a gleam of fire, but no man near it.

"That's a Bada dodge," said Andover promptly. "Now I wonder if Marker
trusted too much to these gentry, and they have done us the excellent
service of misleading him. They hate us like hell, and they'd sell
their souls any day for a dozen cartridges; so it can't have been done
on purpose. Seems to me there has been a slip in his plans somewhere."

But the sound of voices! The man was questioned closely, and he was
strong on its truth. He was a hillman from the west of the Khyber, and
he swore that he knew the sound of human speech in the hills many miles
off, though he could not distinguish the words.

"In thirty minutes it will be morning," said George. "Lord, such a
night, and Lewis to have missed it all!" His spirits were rising, and he
lit a pipe. The north was safe whatever happened, and, as the inertness
of midnight passed off, he felt satisfaction in any prospect, however
hazardous. He sat down beneath a boulder and smoked, while Andover
talked with the others. They were the frontier soldiers, and this was
their profession; he was the amateur to whom technicalities were
unmeaning.

Suddenly he sprang up and touched St. John on the shoulder. A great
chill seemed to have passed over the world, and on the hill-tops there
was a faint light. Both men looked to the east, and there, beyond the
Forza hills, was the red foreglow spreading over the grey. It was dawn,
and with the dawn came safety. The fires had burned low, and the
vagrant morning winds were beginning to scatter the white ashes. Now
was the hour for bravado, since the time for silence had gone. St.
John gave the word, and it was passed like a roll-call to left and
right, the farthest man shouting it along the ribs of mountain to the
next watch-fire. The air had grown clear and thin, and far off the dim
repetition was heard, which told of sentries at their place, and the
line of posts which rimmed the frontier.

Mitchinson moistened his dry lips and filled his lungs with the cold,
fresh air. "That," he said slowly, "is the morning report of the last
outpost of the Empire, and by the grace of God it's 'All's well.'"

CHAPTER XXXII

THE BLESSING OF GAD

"Gad--a troop shall overcome him, but he shall overcome at the last."

Lewis peered into the gorge and saw only a thin darkness. The high
walls made pits of shade at the foot, but above there