He laughed again; but the laughter died from his lips as the remembrance of their situation returned to him. Death was ordinarily little to him; though now life could be so sweet since she loved him. It seemed a terrible thing that this young girl must die so soon—and probably by his own hand to save her from a worse fate.
She guessed his thoughts.
"Is this really the end, dear?" she asked, unwilling but unafraid to meet death. "Is there no hope for us?"
"I fear not, beloved."
"I—I don't want to die so soon. Before you came tonight I wouldn't have minded very much; for I was not happy. But now it's a little hard, just as this wonderful thing has happened to me."
She sighed. He held out his arms again, and she crept into them and nestled into his embrace.
"Well, if it must be so, I'll try to be worthy of my soldier and not disgrace you, dear," she said fondly, bravely. "Let's try to forget it for a while and not let it spoil our last hours together. Let's 'make-believe,' as the children say. Let's pretend that this is all a hideous nightmare, that our lives and our love are before us."
So through the long, dread night with the hideous menace never out of their minds they talked bravely of what they would like to do, to be—if only they were not to die so soon. Several times Noreen left him and went to comfort, to console the poor Mohammedan women and children to whom she had given shelter. Her brother refused to allow Dermot to relieve him on watch, saying that he could not sleep or rest, and begging him instead to remain with the girl to cheer her, to hearten her in the awful hours of waiting for the end.
So Dermot was with her when a sudden uproar outside caused him to dash out on to the verandah. From behind the barricade on the front verandah Daleham was watching.
"What is it? Are they attacking?" cried the soldier.