From that to Halfa would be another five." "Well, when we don't return, the steamer will give the alarm." "And where shall we be by that time ?" "My poor Norah! My poor little Norah!" muttered Belmont, in the depths of his grizzled moustache.
"What do you suppose that they will do with us, Cochrane ?" he asked after a pause.
"They may cut our throats, or they may take us as slaves to Khartoum.
I don't know that there is much to choose.

There's one of us out of his troubles anyhow." The soldier next them had sat down abruptly, and leaned forward over his knees.

His movement and attitude were so natural that it was hard to realise that he had been shot through the head.

He neither stirred nor groaned.

His comrades bent over him for a moment, and then, shrugging their shoulders, they turned their dark faces to the Arabs once more.
Belmont picked up the dead man's Martini and his ammunition-pouch.
"Only three more rounds, Cochrane," said he, with the little brass cylinders upon the palm of his hand.