Year: 1879

! lalntlnB mon as Rallanbly as ever; now
one handful of heroes fought their way
out of the deadly valley, only to be
slaughtered to man by fresh enemies
beyond.


OF sixteen thousand who left the
capital, only single man reached
Jellalabad alive; and one day avenged
alike Rohilcund and Cabul


Through the whole of the dreadful
struggle. Herbert st. Clair had fought
among the foremost, reckless of life,
and caring only to have his fill Of
Afghan blood before he died.


Man on man, the white frocked MUIR
derers fell before his deadly aim; and
the rocks above began to echo with the
cry Of Kill the Ingleez- Bashi r. eng
lish captain) while bullets fell around
him thick and fast. But although his
uniform was torn to rags and his cap
struck from his head, the death hail
still failed to reach his life; and the
superstitious mountaineers looked with
secret awe upon this man whom no
weapon could harm and no peril dis
may.


But the end came at last. A sharp,
sudden pang shot through his left side
"a sick dizziness overpowered him
the black rocks and the rolling smoke,
and the eddy of struggling figures,
swan before him in O mist-there was a
rushing, roaring sound in his ears-and
he fell heavily to the earth.


CHAPTER Iv--TRUE TO THE LAST.


When st. Clair regained conscious
ness, he was too weak and weary to
take much note of his surroundings.
His chief feeling was one of overpower-
ing exhaustion, mixed with a vague
sense of having lain insensible for weeks
or even months since the fatal day IF
Koord-Cabul. Little by little he began
to notice that he was lying upon a
cushioned. couch in large, high.roofed
chamber, the walls of which were hung
with the skins of wolves and tigers,
mingled with pointed helmets, silver
hilted yataghans and long mountain
rifles.


Through a narrow loop-hole in the
wall, which revealed its immense thick
ness, he caught a glimpse of smooth
green valley far below, dappled with
clustering trees, among which tiny
stream sparkled in the sunlight suffi-
cient proof how long time must have
elapsed since the gloomy winter morn
ing of the great battle.


At that moment a light step caught
his ear, and, looking round, he beheld
once more the long dark hair and lus-
trous eyes of Guleyaz.


He was about to speak, but she sign
Ell to him to be silent.


"The angel of death still hovers over
you, and you must beware. 1 will tell
you all you wish to know. The Ferin-
ghees are slain, every man; and the
coward whom they set up as our king
has fled for his life. They who struck
you down were men of another tribe,
who knew nothing of my fathers
pledge; but our people recognized you
among the fallen, and brought you
away-and here, in the halls of Kara
Dagh, you are safe as beneath the
shadow of the prophets tomb II


The word Kara-Dagh" (Black
mountain) was revelation to st. Clair


There was no further room for doubt
BE was a prisoner in the mountain
stronghold of Akbar Khan himself


Day succeeded day, and the wounded
officer, thanks to his own native vigor as
well as the untiring care of his charming
nurse, began to shake off the fatal tor
por which had held him down so long.


After while he was able to leave his
couch, and, supported by the arm of
Guleyaz, who seldom left him, TO ven
ture forth upon the battlem0nts, where
he sat for hours drinking in the life
giving mountain breeze, and feasting
his eyes upon the glorious panorama be-
low.


From Guleyaz herself he had learned
that her father was himself in the strong
hold; and the reluctance with which
she gave the information REQUIRED to his
memory more than once.


The reason of these precautions was
at length explained by a piece of news
whicb made his heart leap, when the
careless talk of two sentinels brought it
to his ears, viz, that second English
army was advancing into Afghanistan to
avenge the destruction of its predeces-
sors.


But these disturbing ideas were speed
lily banished by thoughts OF softer
kind.


! No living creature is more thoroughly
accessible to female influence than a
strong man suddenly made helpless;
and Herbert, with the princess arm
supporting his weary head and her
musical voice repeating some stirring
native war-song or romantic Eastern
legend, was happier than he had ever
been amid the rush and carnage of the
! battlefield.


But this pleasing dream was destined
to sudden and awful awakening.


One morning when st. Clair's strength
was 30 completely restored that thoughts
of escape had already begun to haunt
him, Guleyaz rose to leave him much
before her usual time, with long, lin
gering, beseeching look, which her last
words terribly explained:


"The Feringhee warriors are on their
march hither, and my father is angry.
This day he will send for you, and, oh,
beware of offending him, for your own
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