“Turn the cart round!” said the dark man.
They helped the carter to do it, and blocked it with stones.
“Put in the mule!” was the next order, and the carabineers held up the shafts while the man obeyed.
Then both saluted Johnstone and Clare, and shouldered their short carbines, which had stood against the parapet.
“Forward!” said the dark man, quietly.
The carter took the mule by the head and started it gently enough. The creature understood, and was glad to go down hill; the wheels creaked, the cart moved, and the party went off, one of the carabineers marching on either side.
Clare drew a long breath as she stood looking after them for a moment.
“Let us go home,” she said at last, and turned up the road.
For some minutes they walked on in silence.
“I think you probably saved my life at the risk of yours, Miss Bowring,” said Johnstone, at last, looking up. “Thank you very much.”