"Look behind you, Professor," he whispered.
In the far distance were a number of little black specks, growing every
moment larger. Even at that moment they heard the low, long call of the
Mongars.
"They are gaining on us," Quest muttered.
The two girls, white though they were, bent over their horses.
"We'll stick to it till the last moment," Quest continued, "then we'll
turn and let them have it."
They raced on for another mile or more. A bullet whistled over their
heads. Quest tightened his reins.
"No good," he sighed. "We'd better stay and fight it out, Professor. Stick
close to me, Lenora."
They drew up and hastily dismounted. The Mongars closed in around them. A
cloud had drifted in front of the moon, and in the darkness it was almost
impossible to see their whereabouts. They heard the Chief's voice.
"Shoot first that dog of a Craig!"
There was a shriek. Suddenly Feerda, breaking loose from the others, raced
across the little division. She flung herself from her horse.
"Tell my father that you were not faithless," she pleaded. "They shall not
kill you!"
She clung to Craig's neck. The bullets were beginning to whistle around
them now. All of a sudden she threw up her arms. Craig, in a fury, turned
around and fired into the darkness. Then suddenly, as though on the
bidding of some unspoken word, there was a queer silence. Every one was
distinctly conscious of an alien sound--the soft thud of many horses' feet
galloping from the right; then a sharp, English voice of command.
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