“Heaven has sent us help!” said Mr Braine fervently. “Barnes, we must by some means get all on board to-night, and trust to the darkness to run down the river.”
“But the rajah’s visit?” said the doctor.
“Ah! I had forgotten that,” said Mr Braine, with a groan; “the rajah and our guards; but with help and ease of mind coming like this, we must not despair. Now, doctor, go back up-stairs. One moment—your women-servants?”
“They are to be trusted.”
“Then go and set my wife’s mind at rest. Tell her our lives depend upon her being calm. There must be no excitement, or we shall excite suspicion. Implore your wife and child to be careful.”
“And Murray and Mr Greig’s?”
“Another obstacle?” exclaimed Mr Braine. “Never mind; one thing at a time. We may get the women to the boat, then we might drop down opposite to Murray’s place and cut him out. But we shall see. Go on, and in a minute or two I’ll bring up Frank.”
The doctor went up, passed Tim, who was carefully keeping his two points of light glowing at a distance from each other, and communicated his tidings to the ladies, with the effect that Mrs Braine fainted dead away, but to recover directly, and eagerly whisper that she would be firm and not make a sound.
She kept her word, weeping silently over her son, while Mrs Barnes and Amy both clung to the lad’s hands, in the faintly-lit room.
“Quick!” said Mr Braine, whose ears were preternaturally sharp. “Frank, keep here in hiding. You three come out when the doctor summons you. Come, Barnes, back to our cigars. The rajah.”