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.”