"Halt!" King thundered; and his voice was as sharp and unexpected
as a pistol-crack. This was something tangible, that a man could
tackle--a perfect antidote for nerves.

The blue light continued on a zigzag course, as if a man were running
among boulders with an unusual sort of torch; and as there was
no answer King drew his pistol, took about thirty seconds' aim and
fired. He fired straight at the blue light.

It vanished instantly, into measureless black silence.

"Now you've jolly well done it, haven't you!"' the Rangar laughed
in his ear. "That was her blue light--Yasmini's!"

It was a minute before King answered, for both animals were all
but frantic with their sense of their riders' state of mind; it
needed horsemanship to get them back under control.

"How do you know whose light it was?" King demanded, when the horse
and mare were head to head again.

"It was prearranged. She promised me a signal at the point where
I am to leave the track!"

"Where's that guide?" demanded King; and Darya Khan came forward
out of the night, with his rifle cocked and ready.

"Did she not say Khinjan is the destination?"'

"Aye!" the fellow answered.