They ceased searching, and formed up to intercept whoever it might be who rode in such a hurry.

Above them, on the overhanging ramparts, there was quick discussion, and one man left his post hurriedly.
"A horseman from the West!" he announced, breaking in on Alwa's privacy without ceremony.
"One ?" "One only." "For us or them ?" "I know not, sahib." Alwa--glad enough of the relief from puzzling his brain--ran to the rampart and looked long at the moving dot that was coming noisily toward his fastness but that gave no sign of its identity or purpose.
"Whoever he is can see them," he vowed.

"The moon shines full on them.
Either he is a man of theirs or else a madman!" He watched for five more minutes without speaking.

Cunningham and Mahommed Gunga, coming out at last in search of him, saw the strained figures of the garrison peering downward through the yellow moon rays, and took stand on either side of him to gaze, too, in spellbound silence.
"If he is their man," said Alwa presently, "he will turn now.

He will change direction and ride for the main body of them yonder.