Although Helmar was determined and courageous, he was a novice at the art of war, and was ready to adopt any plan that appealed to his common-sense when danger threatened, so he consulted his companion.
"Assuming that we are right, what plan do you suggest?" he asked, eyeing the Irishman keenly.
"Well, it's hard to say what's best. Sure, I'm right on for a fight, but we must first locate how many are coming, and p'raps after all they may be friendlies, though I wouldn't give much for the chance."
"Neither would I," replied George, laughing. "Well, I'll tell you what I propose; we'll just lay low and be guided by circumstances, and, in the meantime, look to our arms."
The two men's revolvers were loaded, and the magazine of their rifles full; after they had examined them carefully they sat in solemn silence, with every nerve strained to its highest tension for the slightest suspicious sound.
Every moment increased their certainty of the approach of horsemen, although at a slow pace, for the sounds were infinitely more distinct.
"They're coming, right enough," said Brian abruptly in a whisper. "I caught the sound of voices just now, and by jabers it seems to me they're Gypies."
This was a surmise of the Irishman's imagination, for as yet Helmar had heard no voice; but still the sounds came nearer.
"Another two minutes and it'll be time to give the signal to Captain Forsyth," said Helmar, feeling over the face of his watch.
"Eh? And bring a hornet's nest about us!" exclaimed the Irishman in disgust. "But there, it's military orders, and I suppose they must be obeyed, whatever the consequences."