"Nobody hit?" asked Lawrence anxiously.
"Never a man. I think we'd have done better. Now let's get back. In five minutes we'll have a little earthquake."
They crossed into the compound, the bridge was raised, and Bob sent Fazl into the shed where the battery was kept, to complete the electric circuit. The firing had ceased. Nothing was to be heard but the rushing water. In a few minutes there was a dull, sullen rumble; the ground quivered, and immediately afterwards a terrific crash which echoed and re-echoed along the valley. The bonfire was suddenly obliterated as by an extinguisher.
"Another trick to us!" said Bob gleefully. "And now I think we can go to sleep with an easy mind. They won't get past till they've moved a thousand cartloads of rubbish."
"What about those fellows who got past?"
"We can leave Gur Buksh to deal with them. They can't get into the compound; if they did they'd never get out again. I shouldn't wonder if they're wishing they hadn't been in quite such a hurry. Now, my boy, bed: neither you nor I will need any rocking to-night. It's barely eight o'clock: we ought to get a good twelve hours, and I can do with it all."
They felt a strange pang as they passed through their uncle's room. It was the first time they had entered it since the fatal morning when they set out so cheerfully with him in pursuit of Nurla Bai. Neither spoke of him; his loss touched them now with a poignancy of feeling that would not endure expression. Bob closed the door quietly, as if a sleeper lay within; and both undressed in silence.
CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH
A CRY IN THE NIGHT
"What say you, friend?--how will this matter end?"