Ferrers saw the force of the reasoning, and followed his guide slowly down the dangerous path. His mind was in a whirl. Marriages between Englishmen and native women were far more common in those days than in these, but Major Keeling was the last man he would have expected to contract one. This, then, was the explanation of his insensibility with regard to Penelope! But he had sat beside her, talked to her, touched her hand, behaved like an honourable man who was free to seek her if he chose, while only a few miles off his unacknowledged wife and children were leading a secluded existence within stone walls. It occurred to Ferrers that it would be a good idea to arrest them and bring them to Alibad, there to confront Major Keeling with them suddenly; and he asked the Mirza whether the fort was well defended. The Mirza assured him that not only was the garrison ample for defence, but watchmen were posted on all the hill-tops round, and it was only by bribing one of these, over whom he had obtained some hold in the past, that he had been able to reach the point of vantage they had occupied. It was practically impossible to approach the place undetected, he said, and before long there came a startling proof of the truth of his words. Just before they reached the cave where the horses had been left, Ferrers trod on a loose stone, which rolled down the hillside with a terrifying clatter. Instantly a hail from the hill on their left was answered by another from the right, and followed by one from the fort itself. “Mount and ride for your life,” panted the Mirza to Ferrers, as they stumbled into the cave. “There is no hope of escaping unnoticed now.” They had the ponies outside the cave in a twinkling, and were mounted and riding down the path in another second. Stones rolled down under the ponies’ feet, voices ran from hill to hill, and presently, when the forms of the intruders were perceived, bullets began to fly around them. Fortunately for Ferrers and the Mirza, the ponies were sure-footed, and none of the Sheikh’s matchlockmen waited to take good aim. They dashed out on the plain at last, unhurt, and from the nullah behind them there rang out a last shot and a sharp cry, a man’s death-cry. “The sentry who suffered us to pass,” remarked the Mirza casually. “They have a short way with brethren who have been false to their oaths, as I should know.” He seemed to feel he had said too much, and refused to answer Ferrers’ eager questions as to when he had been a member of the brotherhood, and why he had left it. They rode briskly back to the outskirts of the town, and dismounted. The Mirza guided Ferrers through the byways to Colin’s quarters, and left him there, carrying off his disguise for safety’s sake, and Ferrers tumbled into bed and slept heavily.