Now, however, it was near to the death. There could be no more talk or thought of escape. Kumran, ever half-hearted, tried it one night and failed, losing many followers in the attempt.
After that his face hardened. He went about dreaming of revenge—revenge on Humâyon, even revenge on Dearest-Lady, who had tied his hands.
"Till I return!"
No! Dead folks can never return to the worldly. Even their memory comes seldom, save to the pure in heart.
And one night he hit on a plan. The fort was almost at its last gasp. All day Sumbal Khân, Humâyon's famous artillery general, had been pounding away at the Iron Gate with deadly aim. A few more well-sent shots would leave the bastion crumbling, and then——
Then would come the assault through the breach, and Kumran knew he could not face it. His force was too small.
So about midnight the door of Akbar's prison room was opened and Kumran with a few armed men stood within.
Roy, startled from a doze, was on his feet in a second.
"What want ye?" he challenged fiercely.
"Let the Hindoo fool alone," said Kumran to those who would have seized on the Râjput lad. "All we want is the child. Take him, slaves, and be quick about it."