As they put their steeds to a corresponding pace, it seemed to Raynier that all he had gone through was as nothing to that moment. They would be captured, for, bearing in mind the pace at which they had hitherto travelled, their steeds were urgently in need of a blow. Just as they had reckoned on having gained safety at last, and now—all was lost.
On, on, swept this wild chase, and now the pursuers were near enough to shout to them to halt Hilda’s steed was beginning to show signs of giving in. Then its rider uttered breathlessly,—
“Herbert, I see a chance. That bend of rock just ahead. Beyond it—the tangi—the Syyed’s tangi.”
“A chance, indeed,” he answered, all athrill at the discovery. “The only thing is will they fight shy of it now, as they did in cold blood?”
“They will—they will,” she panted.
Now they had gained the rock portal—towering up grim and frowning overhead, and the pursuers had nearly gained it too. But these last, the foremost of them, drew up a little way from the entrance. So did others who came up. It was evident they recognised the place, and the force of superstition was strong.
Crouched among the boulders the three fugitives could just see what was going on. One who seemed a leader was evidently urging them forward—riding up and down their line haranguing and gesticulating vehemently. At last six or seven men broke from the others, and, followed by these, the chief advanced towards the mouth of the chasm.
“Murad Afzul, Huzoor,” whispered Mehrab Khan.
“It is his last quarter of an hour,” grimly answered Raynier, sighting his rifle. And then an inspiration came to him, and he whispered some hurried instructions to Mehrab Khan. The Baluchi immediately left his side, and retired further into the chasm.
“Hilda, dearest, do you think you could hold the horses, in case they get a bit of a scare?” he said. “I have a plan which will save us, if anything will. Stand behind that elbow of rock with them.”