A few words must be added here. I have them from Hoosanee, who was faithful to his master throughout this adventure.
Everything was still that night, he said. He was dozing. His master was keeping himself awake by writing in his book. They had determined, towards the small hours of the morning, to go round the fort themselves. He had made friends with one of the watchmen, whose faithfulness had been corrupted by the present of a valuable trinket, and the promise of still richer gifts, if he helped them to their will. What they wished to do was to find out for certain if Grace and Kit were in the fort, and, if so, putting off their deliverance until some good plan could be devised, to encourage them by letting them know that friends were at hand.
He, as I have said, had been dozing. Feeling sure that they ought to be on the move, he aroused himself. His master put down his book, and asked him in a whisper to go out and see if his friend was ready. He crept to the door, which was ajar, and opened it. In the next moment he had fallen back upon his master, dazed and trembling.
The doorway was blocked up by a slender figure in shining raiment with the face covered, and naturally his first thought was that Dost Ali Khan, repenting of his treachery, had sent them his captive. But Tom knew better. The moment he saw the figure he sprang to his feet with a wrathful expression. Hoosanee, thinking from the emotion in his voice and manner that some new danger assailed them, looked to him for directions; but Tom motioned him away. 'This is an Englishwoman, but not the one we seek,' he said in Marathi. 'Remain in the room, but keep at a little distance from us.'
Of the interview that followed no record remains. Tom could not be prevailed upon to speak of it. It is not so much as mentioned in his diary. Hoosanee, whose confidence in his master was perfect, neither understood nor sought to understand what was going on. Fearing treachery, however, he held himself on the alert, and when, after having poured herself out in a torrent of impassioned words, Vivien, for the figure could have been none other, rushed out into the darkness, he was by his master's side in a moment. To his dismay he found him weak and trembling. Twice, it seemed to him, that he was trying to speak, but he said nothing.
Then Hoosanee told him that the night was passing, and urged him to lose no time in setting forth upon their task. The friendly Watchman was outside. He had won over all those who were watching with him. If they did not at once seize their opportunity, it would pass out of their hands for ever.
But if his master's manner had dismayed him, he was still more alarmed by the way in which his advice was taken. For an instant Tom made as if he would follow him, and then he sat down and burst into a passion of tears.
Hoosanee was in an agony. What had happened? 'Is Missy Grace dead?' he whispered, going quite close to his master.
'No, no; I hope to God she is alive still,' said Tom. 'And if I knew that the Jezebel who has just gone was speaking the truth, I should not be like this. I should know, at least, what to attempt. But how am I to tell? She may be lying to me as she lied to her husband, as she is lying every day to Dost Ali Khan.'
'What has she told my master?' asked Hoosanee.