"Thank you, that is a better idea," answered Jim. "I shall take one of them with me, and leave the other with you as I have promised, dividing the ammunition between us. Here it is, and there are the cartridges. Have you got them safely?"
Responding in the affirmative, Margetson took one of the revolvers from him, and then placed the reserve ammunition in a fold of his garments.
"I'm ready now," said Jim quietly. "We quite understand one another, do we not? If all goes well, I return here with father; if not, I make a bolt for it, so as not to betray your hiding-place. Later on I shall return to the rescue."
"That is the arrangement," was the answer.
"Then good-bye," whispered Jim, extending his hand in the darkness.
"Good-bye, lad, good-bye, and may you have the success you deserve!"
A cordial handshake was exchanged, and then the two went to the door. The latch was gently lifted, and the wicket pushed open just far enough to allow Jim to squeeze through. Another minute and he was outside, standing there in the darkness, listening as the door was closed.
"Good-bye," he heard his comrade again whisper, and immediately after came the low sound of woodwork meeting and a gentle fall of the latch as it dropped into its old position. But Jim made no movement as yet. Standing there beside the wall, he peered into the darkness which surrounded him, and listened attentively for some five minutes, so as to make sure that no one was near at hand. Then he fell upon his hands and knees and made a complete circle of the building, halting at each corner to listen again. But nothing occurred to disturb his peace of mind, for all in the village seemed to have retired to rest. Even the dogs with which all native streets are infested had disappeared for the time, and only the gentle murmur of distant voices told him that the place was inhabited at all. Happening to cast his eyes towards the central hut, a dim solitary figure trudging disconsolately up and down attracted his attention, while still farther to the left, and enveloped in a large blanket, a second sentry squatted in front of the prisoner's door.
"One on duty at each house," said Jim to himself. "It would be a difficult matter to get rid of the man who is watching father, and if it can possibly be arranged, I shall make my way in at the back, for the other sentry being so near, he would almost certainly hear the struggle and give the alarm. Hullo! Who's that?"
As he spoke his eyes suddenly fell upon another figure of gigantic proportions, and a few moments' closer observation assured him of the fact that it was the Mullah pacing the narrow roof of his house. Up and down he went restlessly, muttering to himself as if he were ill at ease. Then with one long look round he disappeared, and soon there was no one to be seen but the men on watch.