held his breath, his heart shook his
body, his tongue withered and dried. He closed his eyes as a wave of
faintness swept over him, and, as he opened them again, he saw that the
man was crawling towards him, and that between his teeth was a huge
knife. The terrible Pathan, the cruel dreadful stalker, the slashing
disemboweller was upon him!--and with a mighty effort he sprang to his
feet and fled for his life down the hill in the direction of the Prison.
His sudden movements awoke Private Green, who, in one scared glance, saw
a number of terrible forms arising from behind boulders and rushing
silently and swiftly towards him and his flying comrade. Leaping up he
fled after Grabble, running as he had never run before, and, even as he
leapt clear of the sleeping group, the wave of Pathans broke upon it and
with slash and stab assured it sound sleep for ever, all save Edward
Jones, who, badly wounded as he was, survived (to the later undoing of
Moussa Isa, murderer of a Brahmin boy).

Of the four Pathans who had surprised the sentry group, one, with a
passing slash that re-arranged the face of Reginald Ladon Gurr, sped on
after the flying sentries. But that the man was short and stout of build
and that the fugitives had a down-hill start, both would have died that
night. As it was, within ten seconds, a tremendous sweep of the heavy
blade of the long Khyber knife caused Private Gosling-Green to lose his
head completely and for the last time. Augustus Grobble, favoured of
fortune for the moment, took flying leaps that would have been
impossible to him under other circumstances, bounded and ran
unstumbling, gained the shadow of the avenue of trees, and with bursting
breast sped down the road, reached the gate, shouted the countersign
with his remaining breath, and was dragged inside by Captain Michael
Malet-Marsac.

"Well?" inquired he coldly of the gasping terrified wretch.

When he could do so, Augustus sobbed out his tale.

"Bugler, sound the alarm!" said the officer. "Sergeant of the Guard put
this man in the guard-room and keep him under arrest until he is sent
for," and, night-glasses in hand, he climbed one of the ladders leading
to the platform erected a few feet below the top of the well-loopholed
wall, just as a shot was fired and followed by others in rapid
succession on the hill whence Grobble had fled.

The shot was fired by Corporal Horace Faggit and so were the next four
as he rapidly emptied his magazine