“Oh, yes—yes—yes!” cried Helen, so eagerly that the girl uttered a warning “hush,” and then apparently satisfied, bade her be still while she tried to make a way to her.
For answer Helen stood listening, while the girl seemed to climb upwards and sidewise, standing with her feet resting upon the bars of the open window; and for some time there was a low tearing and rustling noise, as if an effort was being made to cut through the bamboo and cane-woven wall.
This went on for some time and then ceased, to Helen’s great relief, for Murad had several times moved uneasily, and it seemed to her that the noise had awakened him.
There was a slight rustling then, and the Malay girl came back to her former position.
“I cannot do it,” she whispered. “It would take strong men with parangs, and I am only a weak girl with a kris.”
“Can we not escape, then?” panted Helen, whose heart sank.
“Yes; but not that way. It must be through the roof, for the attap is only soft and the strings thin. I think I can manage to cut through there.”
As her words left her lips they both clung there as if paralysed, for, uttering a hoarse gasp, Murad struggled to his feet and staggered towards them with an angry cry.