"Up you go, Surajah. We have not a moment to lose!"
Dick sprang up the steps, Surajah following. As they reached the top of the wall, a shot was discharged at them by the sentry at the gate, who, ignorant of the cause of the sudden uproar, had been standing in readiness to fire. He was, however, too excited to take aim, and the bullet flew harmlessly over their heads. In another instant, they sprang over the parapet.
"Lower yourself by your arms, and then drop."
The wall, like many others of its sort, was thicker at the base than on the top, and the foot projected two feet beyond the upper line, so that it was a sharp slide, rather than an absolute fall. It was well that it was so, for although only some twelve feet high inside, it was eight feet higher on its outer face, as a dry ditch encircled it. Both came down in a heap on the sand that had crumbled from the face of the wall.
As soon as they picked themselves up, Dick exclaimed, "Keep along the foot of the wall, Surajah," and they dashed along until they reached the angle. As they turned the corner, they heard a burst of voices from the wall where they had slid down, and several shots were fired. Dick led the way along the ditch to the next angle, then left it and entered the village, and dashed along the street.
The sound of firing had roused many of the peasants. Doors were opening, and men coming out. Exclamations of surprise were heard, as the two figures rushed past, but no one thought of interfering with them. As they left the houses behind them, Surajah said:
"You are going the wrong way, Sahib. You are going right away from the ghauts."
"I know that well enough," Dick panted; "but I did it on purpose. We will turn and work round again. They will hear, from the villagers, that we have come this way, and will be following us down the road while we are making our way back to the ghauts."