Mrs. Berry, who sat cowering in the corner of the sofa, lifted her grey face. The clumsy lips tried to move, but no sound came forth except an inarticulate murmur. Mrs. Carmichael shrugged her shoulders as one does at an irresponsible child. "Well?" she repeated.
Nicholson came farther into the room, so that he stood within the circle of lamp-light. In a rapid glance he had taken in the occupants, and their attitudes were to him what symptoms are to a quick-sighted doctor. Mrs. Cary sat in an arm-chair, bolt upright, her hands clasped before her, her small eyes fixed straight ahead. Beatrice stood at her side, almost in an attitude of protection, pale, but otherwise calm and apparently indifferent. As he had entered, Lois had been preparing some food at a side table. She now came closer, and her dark, serious eyes rested penetratingly on his face, so that he felt that, even if he had thought of deceiving them as to the true state of affairs, it would have been in vain as far as she was concerned. As for Mrs. Carmichael, she stood in her favorite position—her arms akimbo, her chin tilted at an angle which lent her whole expression something bulldog and defiant. The atmosphere of danger with which the little drawing-room was filled acted differently upon each temperament, but upon this typical soldier's wife the effect was to arouse in her all the primitive passions, the fighting instinct, the love of struggle against heavy odds.
"Come!" she exclaimed, as Nicholson still remained silent. "Do you think, because one or two of us are a bit 'nervy', that we are really afraid? Not in the least. For my part, if I've got to die, I shall take good care that one or two of those black heathen come with me!" She flung open a drawer, and, taking out a revolver, thumped it energetically upon the table. "Now then, Captain!"
"My dear lady, I never doubted your courage," Nicholson answered, "and my news is not so hopeless as you suppose. I spoke with Nehal Singh." He saw Beatrice start and glance in his direction with an expression of sudden suspense in her fine eyes. "What he said left me no option. There could be no idea of coming to terms. At the same time it seems that he has no desire for a general massacre. His sole ambition is to drive us out of the country. He has given us till midnight to escape—those who want to."
"Does he think we are going to be got rid of as easily as that?" Mrs. Carmichael broke in. "Do you think that I have forgotten those months when George was fighting around Marut? Do you think I have forgotten all the fine fellows that laid down their lives to take the place and put an end to the disgrace of being held at bay by a horde of heathen? And now we are to run away like sheep? Not if George listens to me!"
"You need have no fear," Nicholson answered. "Not a man of us is going to leave Marut alive. But you ladies—"
"Well, what about us 'ladies'?" in a tone as though the description had been an insult.
"I have just told you—Nehal Singh gives you till midnight to get away."
Mrs. Carmichael snapped her lips together in a straight, uncompromising line.
"Very much obliged to His Highness, I'm sure, but I stay with the regiment," she said.