When the second iron bar was in position, the boy and the girl stood for a moment and looked at one another.
Pansy was the first to speak.
"What has happened?" she asked.
"It looks like a desert tribe out on some marauding expedition," he replied in as cool a voice as he could muster. "But I'm sure I don't know what they're doing down as far as here."
"My father?" Pansy said quickly.
Cameron made no reply. He hoped the Governor's party had not fallen foul of the marauders. But the fate of Sir George and his staff was not the one that troubled him now. All his thoughts were for the girl he loved, to keep her from falling into the hands of that barbaric horde. And fall she must, dead or alive, before so very long. Strong as the door was, it would not be able to withstand the assaults the Arabs could put upon it.
With a casual air Cameron examined his revolver, to make sure that the five cartridges were complete.
Then he glanced at the girl.
She caught his eye, and smiled bravely. She had grasped the situation also.
"We all have to die sooner or later," she remarked. "I hope it'll be sooner in my case."