“I came over the roof, sahib, and let myself down by a cord.”
“Then we can escape that way,” I whispered.
“Is the sahib strong enough to climb the rope?”
A pang of misery shot through me as I involuntarily applied my right hand to my wounded arm.
“No,” I said.
“Then I must pull the sahib up,” said Dost, calmly. “We ought to go soon.”
“Pst!” I whispered, and I stepped to the window, leaned out, and seemed to be studying the sounds outside, for there was the faint rustle of a curtain, and a light step crossing the next room.
Directly after I heard Salaman’s voice.
“Did my lord call?”
“Eh? Call? No,” I said, coming from the window, and trying to command my voice, as I walked toward where he stood in the open doorway. “I can’t hear any firing now.”