dwork. The din echoed through the empty place, but
there was no sound of life. Just at the threshold there was a patch of
shadow. It was his one way of escape, and as he reached the door and
kicked and hammered at the wood, he cowered down in the shade, praying
that his friends behind might be something less than sharpshooters.

The pursuit saw its chance, and running forward to get within easy
range, proceeded to target practice. Lewis, kicking diligently at the
door, was trying to draw himself into the smallest space, and his mind
was far from comfortable. It needs good nerves to fill the position of
a target with equanimity, and he was too tired to take it in good part.
A disagreeable cold sweat stood on his brow, and his heart beat
violently. Then a bullet did what all his knocking had failed to do,
for it crashed into the woodwork and woke the garrison. He heard feet
hurrying across a yard, and then it seemed to him that men were
reconnoitring from the top of the wall. A second later--when the third
bullet had buried itself in dust a foot beyond his head--the heavy gate
was half opened and a man's hand assisted him to crawl inside.

He looked up to see a tall figure in pyjamas standing over him. "Now I
wonder who the deuce you are?" it was saying.

"My name's Haystoun. H-a-y-s;" then he broke off and laughed. He had
fallen into his old trick of spelling his name to the Oxford tradesmen
when he was young and hated to have it garbled.

He looked up at the questioner again. "Bless me, Andy, so it's you."

The man gave a yell of delight. "Lewis, upon my soul. Who'd have
thought it? It is a Providence. By Gad, I believe I'm just in time to
save your life."

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE HILL-FORT

Lewis got to his feet and blinked at the morning sun across the yard.

"That was a near shave. Phew, I hate being a target for sharpshooting!
These devils are your friends the Bada-Mawidi."

"The deuce they are," said Andover lugubriously. "I always knew it.
I've told Holm a hundred times, and now here is the beggar away sick and
I am left to pay the piper."

"I know. I met him in Bardur, and that's why I'm here. He told me to
tell you to mind the north gate."

"More easily said than done. We're too few by half here if things get
nasty. How was the chap looking?"

"Pretty miserable. Thwaite and I put him to bed. Then they sent me off
here, for I've got news for you. You know a man called Marker?"

Andover nodded.