JIM SPRANG UPON THE MAN.
"If the second man has heard the struggle, we are done for," gasped Jim. "But perhaps he was on the farther side of the Mullah's house, and if so, he may be unaware of the fate which has befallen his comrade. But supposing he notices his absence and comes to find him?"
The thought set him trembling, for he was thoroughly unhinged by the events of the last few moments. As he reflected upon the matter, however, and realized how much depended upon his coolness and decision, resolution came to him at once, and straightway rising to his feet, he tumbled the body of the dead warrior on one side, and took possession of his blanket. Then casting its folds about him, resting the man's spear jauntily upon his shoulder, and carrying the sword in one hand, he began to saunter round the dwelling. A few paces brought him to the front, where he caught sight of the second man walking slowly upon his beat, and approaching him from the farther side. And now was the time when Jim's courage was tested to the utmost. Had he shown any fear, or had he turned about in the foolish endeavour to escape the attention of the sentry, all his plans would have been upset. The impulse was there to make him cast his blanket to the ground and fly for his life; he felt the longing to get away from the place, to free himself from the danger, and then, putting the temptation aside, he boldly stepped onwards, and, arriving opposite the door, paused to look sleepily about him.
"The night is dark, comrade, and it is lonely work tramping hither and thither," said the tall warrior, coming to a halt some feet away from him. "This watching is a weary trial, and my heart sickens at it. Rather would I be abroad with my brothers in search of the runaways, or, better, galloping upon my horse against the zareba which the insolent invader has erected on the fringe of the desert. It maddens me to know that our warriors are fighting there, and that at this moment they are rushing to the attack with victory before them. And then, what loot! The man who came hither from the farther side of the Hoad, and who was once a follower of the infidel, has told us of the camels and horses that accompanied the expedition, and of the rifles and ammunition. My mouth waters at the thought that one of these guns might fall into my hands, for with it I feel that I alone could beat back these British troops who are to advance against us. But an evil fate has placed me here to keep watch when there is no need for it. In these peaceful times, and when no danger is to be feared, the old women of the village could carry out the duties as well, and better than I. However——Hark! Listen to that! You hear the faint and distant sound of firing which reaches us upon the still night air. Did I not say that our comrades were even now advancing to the attack?"
As he spoke, Jim stood still, looking at him, and puzzling his brains to know how to act. That the man was addressing him he fully realized, but whether asking a question or merely making a few commonplace remarks, he could not guess, as he did not understand the language. To have attempted to respond would have been sheer madness, and yet what was he to do? Happily for him, a gust of wind swept along the village street at this instant, and, falling upon the watch-fires, sent a burst of smoke and embers whirling in his direction. A second later a fit of coughing took hold of him, and leaning upon his spear, he struggled with it till the tears were forced to his eyes. Then, as if that had been sufficient answer, he yawned loudly, and began to trudge the beat again, till the hut hid him from the sentry. No sooner was he out of sight than he ran to the other side, and, throwing himself upon the ground, crept to the end of the wall and looked out across the open space which separated him from the Mullah's residence. There was the warrior who had just addressed him, still standing in a listening attitude; but whether he was surprised at his comrade's action or not, it was impossible to state. However, that his suspicions had not been aroused was quickly evident, for, coughing and spluttering, as a second gust swept the smoke in his direction, he, too, moved away, and had soon disappeared from sight.
"Now is my opportunity," thought Jim, "and I shall never have another like it. Whilst he is behind the Mullah's house I must make a rush for the prison, and, by George, I'll do it!"
Darting round the angle of the wall, he undid the fastenings of the door and slipped into the hut. He had just time to pull the door to when the sentry came into sight again. But nothing had disturbed him, that was apparent, for he continued his leisurely walk without a pause and without a glance in the direction of his comrade.
"Father! Father! Where are you? I'm here, your son, Jim, come to help you," whispered our hero, repeating almost the same words as he had used when making the acquaintance of John Margetson.
There was a movement at the end of the hut, and he could hear someone stir, but for more than a minute there was no other sound. Then a voice broke the stillness, and a question was asked in tones with which Jim was familiar.
"Who is that? Did someone say 'Jim?' My boy whom I left away in old England?"
"Hush! Yes, I am here. Don't make a sound for your life, father! I shall come close up to you."
Creeping across the hard-beaten floor, Jim groped his way through the darkness, and very soon found himself beside the prisoner. Their hands met in a firm and loving clasp, while each kissed the other affectionately upon the cheek.
"My boy! My dear, dear lad!" was all that Colonel Hubbard could say for some minutes. "Who could have thought it possible? Who would have dreamt that such a thing could have occurred? It seems incredible, and I cannot believe that it is true. But—yes, I am pressing your hand, and I know by your voice that it is really you. Thank God that you have come!"
"I'm here right enough," whispered Jim, feeling already as though a load had been removed from his mind. "But, now about escaping. I am in disguise, and have come here from the store-hut of the Mullah, which is close at hand. There John Margetson and I have been hiding, and it is to that spot that I intend to take you now."
"John Margetson! I know him well, for we met on more than one occasion. How comes it that you have made his acquaintance, my lad? Are you, then, a prisoner, too?"
"No, father, but I found my way to his hut, thinking that you were there, and that the Mullah possessed only one white slave. It was a bitter disappointment, but this makes up for it all. Now I hope to carry both of you away with me to our zareba, which lies away on the fringe of the desert."
"Rescue us both! Zareba! I don't understand; I am bewildered!" exclaimed Colonel Hubbard, still pressing his son's hand. "But you must tell me all about it later on; for the present, let me know what I am to do, for I am completely in your hands. What is this store-house? And why should we retire to it?"
Placing his lips close to his father's ear, Jim hurriedly whispered an account of his recent doings, and told him how it was that the store-house had been pressed into their service.
"And now, father," he continued, "it only remains for us to escape from this without observation, and reach John Margetson. If we are only successful in that, we have arms and ammunition there which will enable us to protect ourselves if necessary, and make a good fight for our lives; and, in addition, I have just arranged a ruse which should send these Somalis off to pursue us in the wrong direction. If they fall into the trap, we shall say good-bye to this village, and make our way to the zareba. Are you ready?"
"Ready, ay, and willing."