"Better unloose the knot now, and throw down the rope after him, that no clue remain as to how he made his escape," thought Walter.
He could not unloose the knot, but groped in the dark for the penknife. Walter's sprained ankle made every movement painful. The penknife was found at last, left open on the floor by Denis. Walter, standing on the charpai, cut the knot which he could not untie, and the end of the rope which had been fastened to it was drawn through the hole by the weight of the rest.
Walter could now do no more but prepare his soul by prayer, and his body by rest, for whatever the morrow might bring. He was engaged in fervent devotion, when a rude tramping on the stair and the sound of voices broke the stillness of midnight. The door was roughly thrown open. At the hour when he was least expected, Assad Khan, attended by men bearing torches, and one small form gliding noiselessly behind, entered the prisoners' room.
CHAPTER XIV.
SPEAK OR DIE!
It is necessary to explain the cause of Assad Khan's most unexpected appearance.
The chief was holding late revels that night, to celebrate some relative's betrothal, when a loud and continued call at the gate announced that some one wanted admittance. The great iron key hung at the girdle of Assad Khan, for he never at night trusted it into any hands but his own. Such precaution was deemed necessary in that land of treachery and sudden surprises. Followed by those who had been sharing his banquet, Assad Khan stalked to the massive gate. The call for admittance had excited the curiosity of the females of his family, who, in their upper apartments, were having a feast of their own. Sultána, to whom childhood gave freedom of action, came down to behold and report.
The gate was not unclosed till it was ascertained that he who claimed admittance was Attili Ullah, a trusted servant of the chief, who had been chosen as his messenger to convey the letter of Dermot Denis to the official in India.
On being admitted, the Afghan fell at the feet of Assad Khan, and told his story. He spun it out to some length, with a great many appeals to the Holy Being whose name is so lightly taken by Moslems. But the story itself may be given in very few words. In fording a river Attili's foot had slipped, he had been well-nigh drowned, and the precious letter which was to have brought such heaps of rupees had been lost!
Assad Khan was angry, and the poor messenger narrowly escaped a flogging as well as drowning. Assad Khan thought, however, that the delay of a few days was all the harm that had been done. If the yellow-haired one, as he called the Irishman, had written one letter, he was at hand to write another, and a second messenger should start with it at once. It was this that brought to the prison at midnight the unwelcome visitors who now thronged it.