“Lock the door! bar it! he is sure to be pursued!” exclaimed Mr. Hartley; and in two seconds Harold had closed the door and locked it.
“Water!” cried the convert faintly. The hand of Alicia quickly supplied the fugitive’s need.
“They are after me!” cried Kripá Dé, when he had drained the glass. “They tried to poison me; Premi saved me. I fear that she will have to pay dear for giving me warning.”
“She will not be long in the enemy’s hands, I trust,” said Harold.
As he spoke, loud angry voices from without and violent shaking of the door, followed by furious blows, showed that the pursuers had arrived.
“The door is not strong enough to stand much of this!” cried Robin; and snatching up a stick which was at hand, he looked ready for another battle with the foe.
Harold went up to the closed door, and his voice rang out in clear tones, which were heard above the battering and the furious demands for admittance.
“Back with you all!” he cried.—“Thákar Dás, it is no light matter to break into an Englishman’s home!”
“Give up Kripá Dé! give up the wretch, the apostate!” yelled the Hindus. Then a brief lull of silence ensued, that the reply might be heard.
“We will never give him up but with our lives,” said Harold firmly. “If you think that you have a right to imprison and poison him, bring your case into court; we expect the commissioner here to-morrow.”