“Yes. Don't they? I'd like you to keep an eye on them. They've come up from the rear. I caught sight of them quite a while ago and I can't quite make them out. It's strange, but I can't believe that they belong to the enemy. D'you see?--there--they've changed direction. They're riding as though they intended to come round the enemy's left flank!” “By gad, they are! Look! The enemy are moving to cut them off!” “I must get back to the other wing!” said General Turner. “But that looks like the making of an opportunity! Keep both eyes lifting, Carter, and advance the moment you see any confusion in the enemy's ranks.” He rode off, and Colonel Carter stared long and steadily at the approaching horsemen. He saw a dense mass of the enemy, about a thousand strong, detach itself from the left wing and move to intercept them, and he noticed that the movement made a tremendous difference to the ranks opposed to him. He stepped up to young Bellairs and touched his sleeve. Bellairs started like a man roused from a dream. “That's your wife over there!” said Colonel Carter. “There can't be any other white woman here-abouts riding with a Rajput escort!” Bellairs gripped the colonel's outstretched arm. “Where?” he almost screamed. “Where? I don't see her!” “There, man! There, where that mass of men is moving! Look! By the Lord Harry! He's charging right through the mob! That's Mahommed Khan, I'll bet a fortune! Now's our chance Bugler!” The bugler ran to him, and he began to puff into his instrument. “Blow the 'attention' first!” Out rang the clear, strident notes, and the non-commissioned officers and men took notice that a movement of some kind would shortly be required of them, but the din of firing never ceased for a single instant. Then, suddenly, an answering bugle sang out from the other flank. “Advance in echelon!” commanded Colonel Carter, and the bugler did his best to split his cheeks in a battle-rending blast. “You remain where you are, sir!” he ordered young Bellairs. “Keep your guns served to the utmost!”