Naturally she scouted it.
"The Mahommedan may be able to help us," she pointed out.

"In any event let us wait until the moon wanes.

That is the darkest hour.

We do not know what may happen meanwhile." The words had hardly left her mouth when an irregular volley was fired at them from the right flank of the enemy's position.

Every bullet struck yards above their heads, the common failing of musketry at night being to take too high an aim.