"I apologize," he said. "I apologize all around. I seem to have been insulting everybody in turn. I dare say you are all right. The Rajah may be ill-used and Miss Cary well-meaning. I don't know. And what on earth does it matter? The fat is in the fire, and here we stand chattering like old women about how it got there. Something must be done. The regiment is a day's march from here, and with a company of your Gurkhas, Nicholson, we shan't do much--scarcely hold out if they dare attack us." "They will dare," Nicholson answered. "So much I know for certain, and it will probably be to-night. I can vouch for my men, and we must do our best until help comes. But--" He paused rather significantly. "But what, man? Don't you think it will come in time? I have already telegraphed. They will be here in twenty-four hours. Surely we can manage so long." "Colonel, if you had seen what I saw last night, you would not count much on help. It isn't the rising of a few unarmed men. It is the revolt of a fanatic, warlike nation led by a man. They call him God. His godhead does not matter to us. As a god we have no need to fear him; but as a man and a born leader of men, with hatred and revenge as an incentive, armed with unlimited power, he is an enemy not to be held at bay by a handful of Gurkhas and not to be conquered by a regiment." His words had their quiet, fatal significance. Colonel Carmichael and Stafford looked at each other. Hitherto they had faced the situation coolly enough, with their eternal national optimism and self-confidence. This man had wrenched down the veil, and they stood before a chasm to which there seemed no shore, no bottom. It was the end, and they knew it. "You mean, then, that it is all over?" the Colonel said casually. "You know more than either of us. You ought to be able to tell." "Yes, Colonel, I should judge that it was all over, unless a miracle happens." "We might fight our way through." "On my way early this morning the roads were already guarded. They did not recognize me, otherwise I should not be here." "And the women?" All three men had grown cool and indifferent. Death had stepped in, and from that moment it was not seemly to show either trouble or excitement. "According to my idea, the women had better be lodged here in your bungalow," Nicholson said. "The surrounding walls make it a good place of defense. The barracks are too open." The Colonel nodded. Quite unconsciously he was letting the reins of command slip into the younger and stronger hands. "They must be brought over at once," he assented. "Thank Heaven most of them have gone to the hills. Mrs. Berry and that--that other woman had better not be told what's up. They will only make a fuss. My wife will understand--and Lois will be all right. We must get hold of Travers, if it is only for her sake. It would serve him right if we left him to his fate." Stafford took a step forward. "I have a suggestion to make, Colonel," he said.