We must warn Bardur, and trust to God that Bardur may warn the
south. You know the telegraph hut at the end of the road, when you
begin to climb up the ravine to the place? You must get down there at
once, for every moment is precious."
George had listened with staring eyes to the tale. "I can't believe
it," he managed to ejaculate. "God, man! it's invasion, an unheard-of
thing!"
"It's the most desperate truth, unheard-of or no. The whole thing lies
in our hands. They cannot come till after midnight, and by that time
Thwaite may be ready in Bardur, and the Khautmi men may be holding the
road. That would delay them for a little, and by the time they took
Bardur they might find the south in arms. It wouldn't matter a straw if
it were an ordinary filibustering business. But I tell you it's a great
army, and everything is prepared for it. Marker has been busy for
months. There will be outbreaks in every town in the north. The
railways and arsenals will be captured before ever the enemy appears.
There will be a native rising. That was to be bargained for. But God
only knows how the native troops have been tampered with. That man was
as clever as they make, and he has had a free hand. Oh the blind
fools!"
George had turned, and was buttoning the top button of his shooting-coat
against the chilly night wind. "What shall I say to Thwaite?" he
asked.
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