fe could be so sweet since she loved him. It seemed a terrible thing
that this young girl must die so soon--and probably by his own hand to save
her from a worse fate.

She guessed his thoughts.

"Is this really the end, dear?" she asked, unwilling but unafraid to meet
death. "Is there no hope for us?"

"I fear not, beloved."

"I--I don't want to die so soon. Before you came tonight I wouldn't have
minded very much; for I was not happy. But now it's a little hard, just as
this wonderful thing has happened to me."

She sighed. He held out his arms again, and she crept into them and nestled
into his embrace.

"Well, if it must be so, I'll try to be worthy of my soldier and not
disgrace you, dear," she said fondly, bravely. "Let's try to forget it for
a while and not let it spoil our last hours together. Let's 'make-believe,'
as the children say. Let's pretend that this is all a hideous nightmare,
that our lives and our love are before us."

So through the long, dread night with the hideous menace never out of their
minds they talked bravely of what they would like to do, to be--if only
they were not to die so soon. Several times Noreen left him and went to
comfort, to console the poor Mohammedan women and children to whom she had
given shelter. Her brother refused to allow Dermot to relieve him on watch,
saying that he could not sleep or rest, and begging him instead to remain
with the girl to cheer her, to hearten her in the awful hours of waiting
for the end.

So Dermot was with her when a sudden uproar outside caused him to dash out
on to the verandah. From behind the barricade on the front verandah Daleham
was watching.

"What is it? Are they attacking?" cried the soldier.

"No. It's not an attack. They're cheering somebody, I think, and firing
into the air."

Dermot stared out. Men ran forward to the smouldering ruins of the factory
and threw on them tins of kerosene oil, looted from the murdered Parsi's
shop, until the flames blazed up again and lit up the scene. The hundreds
of coolies were cheering and crowding round a body of men in red coats.

"I believe it's the Rajah's infantry," said Dermot. "Are they going to
attack? Sher Afzul, wake up the others and tell them to be on their guard.
Give me that rifle, Daleham."

So Noreen did not see her lover again until the sun rose on a scene of
desolation and ruin. Smoke and sparks still came from the blackened heaps
of the destroyed buildings. The cordo