Ah, so Mordaunt was sent in pursuit.

The tribe had retired after the murder to its fastnesses in the hills.

He remembered those fortified towers in the hill valleys.

He had had to smoke them out once like rats in a hole.

Ah, poor Sayers! The brutes! And Sayers had a young wife! He lifted his head from the paper, and stared out of the carriage windows, where tiny cottages, with neat white stones for their garden borders, showed that the train was passing through a residential district much affected by retired sailor-men.