'It's--it's real Red Indians this time, Chinnock--B--black Bogallalas!' Chinnock had deliberately moved to the harness-room, and Tinling had to repeat his information. 'Ah, indeed, sir! Red Injians? Well, to think o' that!' he said cheerfully, as if he was humouring some rather childish remark. 'But we shall want every available man; do you think you can spare time to come and help?' ''Bout what time, sir?' said Chinnock. 'About nine--half-past eight, say. Do try.' 'Can't come as late as that, nohow, sir. That's my supper-hour, that is. If the mistress don't want the carriage to-day, I dessay I could step down 'bout five for half-an-hour or so, if that would suit.' 'That wouldn't be any use at all, Chinnock; we shan't begin till dark.' 'Then I'm afraid I can't be of no sarvice to 'ee, sir.' The poor General turned away: evidently the coachman had no intention of risking his life. He remembered Joe, the gardener's boy and stable-help--he was better than no one. Joe was rolling the tennis-court, and grinned sheepishly on being pressed to join. 'Noa, sur,' he said, 'it doan't lay in my work fur to fight no Injins. I see one onst at Reading Vair, I did, a nippin' about he wur, and a roarin'! I bain't goin' to hev naught to do with the likes o' he!' Tinling saw only one hope left. If he could see Mrs. Jolliffe and tell her of the danger which threatened him, she might refuse permission to fight at all, or, at the very least, she would see that he had proper assistance. So into the house he went, and the first person he found was Hazel, who was knitting her pretty forehead over the Latin exercise which had been given her as a holiday task. 'I say, Hazel,' he said, with a trembling voice; but she interrupted him: 'Oh, perhaps you can help me. What's the Latin for "Balbus says it is all over with the General"?' He shivered; it sounded so like an omen. 'No, but Hazel, listen,' he said; 'the Indians are coming again to-night.' 'If you're not going to talk sensibly,' said Hazel, 'go out this instant.' He saw she was utterly unsympathetic, and he wandered on to the hall, which was used as a morning-room, where Hilary sat painting a pansy, and he broke the news to her in much the same words. She actually laughed, and she had been almost as frightened as Cecily when he had told her of the other Indians. 'You are too killing over those Red Indians!' she said. Privately, he thought that the Red Indians would do all the killing. 'You needn't laugh; it's true!' he said solemnly. 'Oh, of course!' said Hilary; 'but don't come so near, or you'll upset my glass of water.' Hilary, too, was hopeless; he was reduced to his last cards now, and came in upon Mrs. Jolliffe as she sat at her writing-table. She looked up with a sweet, vague smile. 'What is it now, dear boy?' she asked. 'I hope you are managing to amuse yourself.'