Mrs. Pottle almost flung her arms round Bob’s neck when he appeared. "My dear boy," she exclaimed, "we have been in a terrible state of alarm about you. What have you been doing?" Bob gave her a brief account of the rushing of the enemy’s camp—successful even beyond his highest hopes. "Why, there!" said the lady at the conclusion of his story. "I told you, Ethel, that Mr. Fawcett would prove equal to the occasion. Mr. Fawcett, you are lost as an engineer, you ought to be a soldier. When we get within reach of the telegraph, I shall wire a full account of you to my paper, and I guess there’ll be a competition for your services in some capacity or other in my country." "Auntie, Mr. Fawcett must be very tired," said Ethel. "Is there any tea left?" "Of course. Dear me, how thoughtless! Mr. Fawcett, you shall have a cup of tea in five minutes." "And you will explain to us what is to be done next, won’t you?" added Ethel. At the first streak of dawn a long cavalcade stole out of the gully. The brigand chief led the way, mounted on a strong Korean pony. Behind him came half his men; then the ladies, for whom side-saddles had been improvised; after them the remainder of the force, all on horse-back. Sufficient provisions had been found in the Russian camp to give them all the good meal so much needed. Bob rode at one time ahead with the chief, at another with the ladies, who were in high spirits now that the tension of the last few days was relaxed. He was with them as they rode past the scene of the midnight sally, and endeavoured to distract their attention from the terrible evidences of the fray. Sing-Cheng led the party across the crest of the hill on which the Russians had first posted themselves, and struck off in a direction approximately south-west. As they rode, a chain of mountains came into view in the distance, the foot-hills beginning about three miles off. The cavalcade made towards a dip in these hills, and after covering several miles of rising ground, approached what appeared to be an almost perpendicular wall of rock. Not till they came within a few yards of it did the strangers see a possibility of penetrating the apparent obstruction. Taking his course unerringly, the chief led them in single file along a narrow giddy footpath zigzagging up the face of the cliff. The horses had much ado to keep their footing, but they were used to the mountains and carried the whole party up without mishap. At the worst of the road Bob and Ah-Sam both dismounted and led the ladies’ horses; the former guessed from Mrs. Pottle’s look of terror as she rounded awkward corners and skirted sheer precipices, that her passion for travel would be cooled for many a day.