Still no sign from the engineer. Like one walking in his sleep, he moved on over the floor of the cavern. Then Seymour did a bold thing. Rising from his concealment, he stepped into the glare after his friend, and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
At the touch the lad swung round sharply, and the light of intellect came back into his dull eyes.
“Seymour.” His lips framed the word, but no sound passed them, and he staggered as though about to fall.
“Steady, old man,” cried the baronet, supporting him to the mouth of the passage. Each instant he expected to hear a yell from the savages, telling that his presence was discovered. But they appeared too intent upon their work to note his movements, and hope rose high within him that he would be able to get his friend away unobserved.
“We have succeeded,” he burst out rapturously to Chenobi, as he rejoined him.
“Not so,” thundered a voice behind him; “by Ramouni, ye have failed!”
Quick as thought Seymour turned. Almost at his shoulder, a grin of malignant triumph making his features fiend-like in their expression, stood Nordhu, priest of the wolf-men.
[CHAPTER XXIX.]
HOW RAHEE ASSISTED THE FUGITIVES.
FOR a few seconds the baronet stood as though turned to stone, success had seemed so near. By some lucky chance Wilson had almost walked into their arms. Another few moments and they would have got him safely away, but, in the very instant of their triumph, Nordhu had again checkmated them.