Deep in thought, the Mullah walked away to his own hut, and disappeared into the interior. Not till then did John Margetson allow himself to break the silence, for all this while he had been flattened upon the roof, scarcely daring to move, and yet drinking in the words of his pursuers. Now, however, there was little fear of being overheard, and at once shifting his position, he crept close to Jim's side, and narrated all that had passed.
"Jove! What a narrow squeak!" exclaimed the latter. "Of course, I could not make head or tail of their jabber, but I knew that it referred to us, and I can tell you that my heart went into my mouth, for at any moment I expected to have them up here. But all's well that ends well,—only this matter hasn't finished yet. What are we to do now? It seems to me that we have a little breathing-space, and that we had better make the best of it to hunt about and ascertain what our surroundings are like, for this may not prove a very good hiding-place once the day dawns."
"We shall certainly be seen if we remain," answered his comrade, with conviction. "I know every inch of the spot, and to-morrow, when the Mullah goes upon the roof of his dwelling to pray before the eyes of all his followers, he will catch sight of us, and capture will be our reward. But I can see no other way out of the difficulty."
"Who lives below us?" asked Jim suddenly.
"Not a soul. The hut, as you can see, is a very large one, and in it are stored bags of dates and native wine for the use of the Mullah and his special favourites when on the march. There are a few weapons also, of the usual muzzle-loading variety, and occasionally powder and shot, too. This I know, for I have been working here as a slave, and have carried the things to their places."
"How does one enter?" asked Jim again.
"There is a door, such as the other huts have, and on the farther side a roughly constructed hole in the roof, through which the smoke from the fire below passed. I suppose it was the residence of a native chief before the Mullah came this way, and that he liked a little comfort. Now, of course, no wood is burnt, and the aperture is covered with a strip of hide. But why do you ask these questions? It would be madness to go into the place."
"Then what are we to do? Suggest some better plan which gives a reasonable hope of escape."
Jim turned upon his companion curtly, and demanded an answer with no little impatience, for now was the time for action. To hesitate was to become a prisoner.
"Well, what have you to propose? Shall we leave this place, and make a dash for the open?"