"Sree does not want you now; come up the ladder, and get inside."
The man obeyed, scrambling quickly up the rough bamboo steps and passing over the wall, when Phra stopped him.
"Wo!" he said. "Stop there, and hold the top of the ladder fast."
"Pass up two loaded guns," said Harry, looking down inside.
This was done, and Phra and Harry each took and cocked his piece as they sat astride of the wall, facing each other, but with Lahn between them holding the top of the ladder, his keen eyes peering first in one direction, then in the other, where the view was not obstructed by the tree.
"Oh, I say, I say!" cried Harry, as the darkness increased, and nothing but a feeble glow appeared through the pile of great grasses. "You have not gone to sleep, have you, Sree?"
"No, Sahib," came from below, with a soft chuckle. "I ought to have had some small, dry wood to burn first. It is very slow."
"Slow? Oh, it's horrible!"
"The Sahib hurries."
"Hurries? Yes. Do you suppose I want to sit here till the enemy comes, so as to see you speared?"