"Oh, but it is of use," Charlie said cheerfully. "I don't mean to let you die at all, but to hand you over to mamma, safe and sound. There, lay your head against me, dear, and say your prayers, and try and go off to sleep."
Presently, however, Ada's figure drooped more and more, until her whole weight leaned upon Charlie's arm.
"She has fainted, Tim," he said. "Help me to raise her well in my arms, and lay her head on my shoulder. That's right. Now, you'll find her shawl somewhere under my feet; hold it up, and make a fan of it. Now, try to send some air into her face."
By this time, not more than fifty out of the hundred and forty-six who entered the cell were alive. Suddenly a scream of joy, from those near the window, proclaimed that a native was approaching with some water. The struggle at the window was fiercer than ever. The bowl was too wide to pass through the bars, and the water was being spilt in vain; each man who strove to get his face far enough through to touch the bowl being torn back, by his eager comrades behind.
"Tim," Charlie said, "you are now much stronger than most of them. They are faint from the struggles. Make a charge to the window. Take that little shawl and dip it into the bowl, or whatever they have there, and then fight your way back with it."
"I will do it, yer honor," said Tim, and he rushed into the struggling group.
Weak as he was from exhaustion and thirst, he was as a giant to most of the poor wretches, who had been struggling and crying all night; and, in spite of their cries and curses, he broke through them and forced his way to the window.
The man with the bowl was on the point of turning away, the water being spilt in the vain attempts of those within to obtain it. By the light of the fire which the guard had lit without, Tim saw his face.
"Hossein," he exclaimed, "more water, for God's sake! The master's alive yet."
Hossein at once withdrew, but soon again approached with the bowl. The officer in charge angrily ordered him to draw back.