“Trying to make my way to you. They will not see now. Give me your hand, and I will climb up.”
Gray leaned out over the breast-work, gave his hand to the young man, and, with a little exercise of his muscular strength, half-drew, half-aided him to climb into the stronghold—just as Captain Smithers and Tom Long leaped upon them, seizing each his man, and holding his sword to his throat.
“You doubly-dyed scoundrel!” cried Captain Smithers. “Caught him in the act! Call the guard there!”
“Don’t you know me, Long?” said a voice that made Tom lower his sword point.
“Ali!” cried Captain Smithers; “you here?”
“Yes, I am back,” said the young man sadly.
“Gray, my good fellow,” cried Captain Smithers, “fate seems to have ordained that I should doubt you.”
“Fate is sometimes very cruel to us all, sir,” said Gray, coldly, as the captain set him free, and turned to Ali.
“You found them, then?”
“No,” said Ali, sadly.