"If they come I shall see them," he said. "I shall wait till after midnight, and if after that there is no sign of them, I shall try to cut a ladder in the wall."
There was no use in being despondent, and therefore he lay there droning to himself, or thinking of his friends in England. Once he heard a step behind him, a silent stealthy step, and guessing that it was the sentry, spoke to him without turning his head.
"Why do you creep in?" he asked quietly. "You disturb my slumbers. Retire at once and leave me."
The man was astounded. He thought that he had made no sound, and it was uncanny to be addressed by the prisoner when he had not even turned his head.
He bowed and went away apologizing for his suspicions, leaving Roger to himself.
"Hist! My lord! Tamba is above."
It wanted yet some three hours to midnight when the words came softly to our hero's ears, and looking up he saw a dark outline crouching close to the wall just above his head. Then the tinkle of some metal instrument was heard, and groping in the darkness his hand came in contact with a sword. Thoughtful Tamba! He had taken pains at the very first to see that his master was armed, believing that if the alarm were given he was capable of escaping unaided. But the rope to which the sword was attached was a stout one, made of soft cotton, and Roger guessed its purpose, and grasped it with both hands. The sword he slipped into his belt, while he placed the blade of the dagger between his teeth.
"Ready above?" he demanded softly. "Then hold on, for I am coming."