"My dear lady, I never doubted your courage," Nicholson answered, "and my news is not so hopeless as you suppose. I spoke with Nehal Singh." He saw Beatrice start and glance in his direction with an expression of sudden suspense in her fine eyes. "What he said left me no option. There could be no idea of coming to terms. At the same time it seems that he has no desire for a general massacre. His sole ambition is to drive us out of the country. He has given us till midnight to escape--those who want to." "Does he think we are going to be got rid of as easily as that?" Mrs. Carmichael broke in. "Do you think that I have forgotten those months when George was fighting around Marut? Do you think I have forgotten all the fine fellows that laid down their lives to take the place and put an end to the disgrace of being held at bay by a horde of heathen? And now we are to run away like sheep? Not if George listens to me!" "You need have no fear," Nicholson answered. "Not a man of us is going to leave Marut alive. But you ladies--" "Well, what about us 'ladies'?" in a tone as though the description had been an insult. "I have just told you--Nehal Singh gives you till midnight to get away." Mrs. Carmichael snapped her lips together in a straight, uncompromising line. "Very much obliged to His Highness, I'm sure, but I stay with the regiment," she said. Nicholson could not repress a smile at this description of her husband, but there was something more than amusement in his brightening eyes. "Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael, I knew that would be your answer. But it is my duty to ask the others--to give them their choice. There is little hope for those who remain." He could not bring himself to turn to the cowering figure upon the sofa. There is a shame which is not personal, and he was passionately ashamed for that quivering bulk of fear, for that greedy hope which he felt rather than saw creep up into the livid face. He looked at Lois. Her head was lifted and the fiery enthusiasm which spoke out of every line of the small dark face transformed her from a saddened woman back to the girl who never played a losing game but she won it, point by point, by pluck and daring. "If I shan't be a bother, I wish to stay with you all," she said with studied simplicity. But her tone was eloquent. "A brave comrade is always welcome," he answered. "Your husband--" He hesitated, and then concluded in a low voice: "Your husband offered to go with you. He is waiting outside with the horses." He avoided her eyes, but her tone betrayed to him the pain that he had unwillingly caused her. "Please tell Archie that I will not let him sacrifice himself for me. I know that he will wish to remain, and I, too, wish to remain. We are all English, and who knows how little or how much we are all to blame for this disaster? We must share it together."