The echoes took up the call, “La-la-la!” and an answer came from the watch-tower hidden round the curve of the hill, “What is it, Shahbaz Khan?” Shahbaz Khan replied in the high-pitched voice of the mountaineer: “Hast thou seen?” The answer came back: “Yes. God deliver us from all evil spirits!” There was a pause, and then: “Hafiz Ullah, I am alone! Come to me.” “Shahbaz Khan, I am alone also; but I dare not leave my post!” “That is a lie; thou art afraid.” A longer pause followed, and then: “I am afraid. Be silent! They are below us still. Pray to God and sleep.” The troopers listened and wondered, for they could not understand what save earth and stone could lie below the watch-towers. Shahbaz Khan began to call again: “They are below us. I can see them! For the pity of God come over to me, Hafiz Ullah! My father slew ten of them. Come over!” Hafiz Ullah answered in a very loud voice, “Mine was guiltless. Hear, ye Men of the Night, neither my father nor my blood had any part in that sin. Bear thou thine own punishment, Shahbaz Khan.” “Oh, some one ought to stop those two chaps crowing away like cocks there,” said the Lieutenant, shivering under his rock. He had hardly turned round to expose a new side of him to the rain before a bearded, long-locked, evil-smelling Afghan rushed up the hill, and tumbled into his arms. Halley sat upon him, and thrust as much of a sword-hilt as could be spared down the man's gullet. “If you cry out, I kill you,” he said cheerfully. The man was beyond any expression of terror. He lay and quaked, gasping. When Halley took the sword-hilt from between his teeth, he was still inarticulate, but clung to Halley's arm, feeling it from elbow to wrist. “The Rissala! The dead Rissala!” he gasped, “It is down there!” “No; the Rissala, the very much alive Rissala. It is up here,” said Halley, unshipping his watering-bridle and fastening the man's hands. “Why were you in the towers so foolish as to let us pass?” “The valley is full of the dead,” said the Afghan. “It is better to fall into the hands of the English than the hands of the dead. They march to and fro below there. I saw them in the lightning.” He recovered his composure after a little, and whispering, because Halley's pistol was at his stomach, said: “What is this? There is no war between us now, and the Mullah will kill me for not seeing you pass!” “Rest easy,” said Halley; “we are coming to kill the Mullah, if God please. His teeth have grown too long. No harm will come to thee unless the daylight shows thee as a face which is desired by the gallows for crime done. But what of the dead regiment?” “I only kill within my own border,” said the man, immensely relieved. “The dead regiment is below. The men must have passed through it on their journey--four hundred dead on horses, stumbling among their own graves, among the little heaps--dead men all, whom we slew.”