arned them that it was no illusion they were riding
into. The conflagration grew. It seemed to be nearly white-hot down
below.

Bellairs wet his finger and held it extended upward.

"There's no wind that I can feel!" he muttered. "And yet, if that were
a grass-fire, there'd be game and rats and birds and things--some of 'em
would bolt this way. That's the Doonha barracks burning or I'm a black
man, which the Lord forbid!"

A minute later, every man in the section pricked up his ears. There
was no order given; but a sensation ran the whole length of it and a
movement from easy riding to tense rigidity that could be felt by some
sixth sense. Every man was listening, feeling, groping with his senses
for something he could neither hear as yet nor see, but that he knew was
there. And then, far-distant yet--not above, but under the jolting of
the gun-wheels and the rattle of the scabbards--they could hear the
clickety-clickety-clickety-click of a horse hard-ridden.

They had scarcely caught that sound, they had barely tightened up their
bridle-reins, when another sound, one just as unmistakable, burst out in
front of them. A ragged, ill-timed volley ripped out from somewhere
near the conflagration and was answered instantly by one that was
close-ripped like the fire of heavy ordnance. And then one of the
advance-guard wheeled his horse and drove his spurs home rowel-deep. He
came thundering back along the road with his scabbard out in the wind
behind him and reined up suddenly when his horse's forefeet were abreast
of the lieutenant.

"There's some one coming, sir, hard as he can gallop! He's one of our
men by the sound of him. His horse is shod--and I thought I saw steel
when the fire-light fell on him a minute ago!"

"Are you sure there's only one?"

"Sure, sir! You can hear him now!"

"All right! Fall in behind me!"

Bellairs felt his sword-hilt and cocked a pistol stealthily, but he gave
no orders to the section. This might be a native soldier run amuck, and
it might be a messenger; but in either case, friend or foe, if there was
only one man he could deal with him alone.

"Halt!" roared the advance-guard suddenly. But the horse's hoof-beats
never checked for a single instant.

"Halt, you! Who comes there?"

"Friend!" came the answer, in an accent that was unmistakable.

"What friend? Where are you going?"

One of the advance-guard reined his horse across the road. The others
followed suit and blocked th