"They say they're working round the edge--say they can't hold 'em. It looks very much as if we're going to get our chance to-night. When a red light flashes three times at this near corner of the woods, we're to ride into 'em in line--it'll mean that our chaps are falling back in a hurry, leaving lots of room between 'em and the wood for us to ride through. Better join your men, you fellows! Oh, lord! What wouldn't Ranjoor Singh have given to be here! What's that?" There came a challenge from the rear. Two horsemen cantered up. "Who are you? What d' you want?" "Sahib! Colonel Kirby sahib!" "What is it? Hallo--there are the three lights--no, two lights--that's 'Get ready!' Who are you? Why--Ranjoor Singh!" "Salaam, sahib!" "Shake hands. By gad--I'm glad! Find your squadron, Ranjoor Singh--find it at once, man--you're just in time. There go the three lights! _Outram's Own!--in line of squadron columns to the right--Trot, March! Right!"_ Ranjoor Singh had kept the word of babu Sita Ram, and had managed to be with them when the first blood ran. THE END.