An hour before daybreak the gathering wave broke upon the camp. It was
Toby Carey who ran hurriedly in upon the dancers in the club-room when
they were about to disperse and briefly announced that there was going
to be a fight. He added that Carlyon was at the mess-house, and desired
all the men to join him there. The women were to remain at the club,
which was already surrounded by a party of Sikhs and Goorkhas. Toby
begged them to believe they were in no danger.
"Where is Averil?" cried Mrs. Raymond distractedly.
"Carlyon has already provided for her safety," Toby assured her, as he
raced off again.
Five minutes later Carlyon, issuing rapid orders in the veranda of the
mess-house, turned at the grip of a hand on his shoulder, and saw
Derrick, behind him, wild-eyed and desperate.
"What have you done with Averil?" the boy said through white lips.
"She is safe at Akbar," Carlyon briefly replied. Then, as Derrick
instantly wheeled, he caught him swiftly by the arm.
"You wait, Dick!" he said. "I have work for you."
"Let me go!" flashed Derrick fiercely.
But Carlyon maintained his hold. He knew what was in the lad's mind.
"It can't be done," he said. "It would be certain death if you attempted
it. We are cut off for the present."
He interrupted himself to speak to an officer who was awaiting an order
then turned again to Derrick.
"I tell you the truth, Dick," he said, a sudden note of kindliness in
his voice. "She is safe. I had the opportunity--for one only. I took
it--for her. You can't follow her. You have forfeited your right to
throw away your life. Don't forget it, boy, ever! You have got to live
for her and let the blackguards take the risks."
He ended with a faint smile, and Derrick fell back abashed, an unwilling
admiration struggling with the sullenness of his submission.
Later, at Carlyon's order, he joined the party that had been detailed to
watch over the club-house, the most precious and the safest position in
the whole station. He chafed sorely at the inaction, but he repressed
his feelings.
Carlyon's words had touched him in the right place. Though fiercely
restless still, his manhood had been stirred, and gradually the
strength, the unflinching resolution that had dominated Averil, took the
place of his feverish excitement. Derrick, the impulsive and headstrong,
became the mainstay as well as the undismayed protector of the women
during that night scare of the Frontier.
There was sharp fighting down in the camp. They heard the firing and the
shouts; but with the sunrise there came a lull. The women turned white
faces to one another and wondered if it could be over.
Presently Derrick entered with the latest news. The tribesmen had been
temporarily beaten off, he said, but the hills were full of them. Their
own losses during the night amounted to two wounded sepoys. Fighting
during the day was not anticipated.
Carlyon, snatching hasty refreshment in a hut near the scene of the
hottest fighting, turned grimly to Raymond, his second in command, as
gradual quiet descended upon the camp.
"You will see strange things to-night," he said.
Raymond, whose right wrist had been grazed by a bullet, was trying
clumsily to bandage it with his handkerchief.
"How long is it going to last?" he said.
"To-night will see the end of it," said Carlyon, quietly going to his
assistance. "The rising has been brewing for some time. The tribesmen
need a lesson, so does the Government. It is just a bubble--this. It
will explode to-night. To be honest for once"--Carlyon smiled a little
over his bandaging--"I did not expect this attack so soon. A Heaven-sent
messenger has been among the tribesmen. They revere him almost as much
as the great prophet himself. He has been listening to their
murmurings."
Carlyon paused. Raymond was watching him intently, but the quiet face
bent over his wound told him nothing.
"Had I known what was coming," Carlyon said, "so much as three days ago,
the women would not now be in the station. As things are, it would have
been impossible to weaken the garrison to supply them with an escort to
Akbar."
Raymond stifled a deep curse in his throat. Had they but known indeed!
Carlyon went on in his deliberate way: "I shall leave you in command
here to-night. I have other work to do. General Harford will be here at
dawn. The attacking force will be on the east of the camp. You will
crush them between you! You will stamp them down without mercy. Let them
see the Empire is ready for them! They will not trouble us again for
perhaps a few years."
Again he paused. Raymond asked no question. Better than most he knew
Carlyon of the Frontier.
"It will be a hard blow," Carlyon said. "The tribesmen are very
confident. Last night they watched a messenger ride eastwards on a white
horse. It was an omen foretold by the Heaven-sent when he left them to
carry the message through the hills to other tribes."
Raymond gave a great start. "The girl!" he said.
For a second Carlyon's eyes met his look. They were intensely blue, with
the blueness of a flame.
"She is safe at Akbar," he said, returning without emotion to the
knotting of the bandage. "The road was open for the messenger. The horse
was swift. There is one woman less to take the risk."
"I see," said Raymond quietly. He was frowning a little, but not at
Carlyon's strategy.
"The rest," Carlyon continued, "must be fought for. The moon is full
to-night. The Great Fakir will come out of the hills in his zeal and
lead the tribes himself. Guard the east!"
Raymond drew a sharp breath. But Carlyon's hand on his shoulder silenced
the astounded question on his lips.
"We have got to protect the women," Carlyon said. "Relief will come at
dawn."
X