Barclay of the Guides

by Herbert Strang

And then, to the number of a hundred and fifty, they filed past him, and as he placed his hand on the head of each he said, "Go thou with haste and win victory on the Ridge." And they begged him to lay a severe penalty on this Pathan stranger, Asadullah, who had come to trouble the city. Then up spoke Bakht Khan, ever blunt of address.

"Punish Asadullah," he said, "it is but right; but punish Minghal also. They are arrows of one quiver. The Arab horse gets whipped and the Tartar is fondled. I am weary of Minghal Khan."

But the covetous officials knew that Minghal was poor, whereas rumour ascribed to Asadullah the possession of great treasures of plunder. The treasury was empty. That very day a message came from Gwalior to the effect that the whole army there was willing to place itself at the king's service, and he petulantly made answer: "I say there is no money for their support. We have here in the city 60,000 men, but they have not been able to win one clod of dirt from the English." The opportunity of gaining something for the treasury was too good to be thrown away. At the instance of his sycophants the king demanded a heavy fine from Rahmut. The chief, curbing his wrath, begged until morning to get the money. Before morning dawned, he had his men saddled up, and the moment the gates were opened he dashed through the streets at the head of his force, rode out by the Ajmir gate, and fled away into the open country. Before the news reached the palace, before any one could think of pursuit, the old Pathan was out of sight.

Night being as day to Ahmed in his dungeon, he set to work at once with the file the khansaman had given him. The links of his chain were of soft iron, and with ready wit he thought of a way by which he might for a time disguise the fact that his fetters were loosed. He filed through one of the links, and then a portion of the next one, until he was able to pass this thinned portion through the gap he had made in the first. If, therefore, he should be suddenly disturbed, he could at once replace the links, and, by turning one of them round so that the portion yet unfiled was brought against the part that was cut, the chain might appear to be still unbroken.

As soon as he was free he made a tour around his dungeon, rather by way of distraction and to stretch his legs than with any idea of making a discovery that would further his escape.

The vault was pitch dark. He had seen it by the light of the oil-lamp during the visits of Minghal and the khansaman, but taken no particular note of it. He now went round it, feeling the walls with his hands. They were of rough-hewn stones; there was no variation except at the door. He shook that: it was locked fast. He went back to the staple and sat down; after a time, having nothing better to do, he started again, and examined the door by touch more carefully. There was no handle, not even a keyhole on the inside. Thinking he heard footsteps, he retreated so hastily that he narrowly escaped overturning the pitcher of water. It was a false alarm. Once more he went round the walls, this time in the opposite direction.

And now, as he drew his hand along the wall, he fancied that one of the slabs of stone protruded a little further into the room than the others. All the stones were rough and ill-fitting, but this protuberance awoke his curiosity. Had he detected a slight movement as he first pressed it? He pushed hard at it—upwards, downwards, sideways, but without result. Surely he had been mistaken. He would try again. This time he pushed gently, and thrilled all through when he felt an indubitable movement, though very slight. Now, instead of pushing, he pulled outward. The stone yielded. He pulled harder; it moved reluctantly, but it did move, and by and by he was able to get his fingers round the edge of the slab. Another pull, and it came a few inches from the wall, then stopped.

He was puzzled. He pushed at the stonework immediately around the slab. There was no result. He tried a few feet to the right—in vain; then to the left. Something seemed to give slightly. A harder push, and the slab moved inward, slowly revolving on a vertical axis until it stood perpendicular to the surface of the wall.

With beating heart he crawled through the opening, and found himself in a stone passage, so low that he had to stoop, so narrow that there was not an inch to spare on either side. In a dozen paces he reached the end—a dead stone wall. There must be an outlet, but where? He felt over the wall and discovered a protuberance similar to that in the room he had left. He pushed and pulled in the same way; the slab moved; a light shone through the crack between it and the wall. He peeped through. There was Craddock Sahib reading at his little table by the light of a lamp.

The doctor was amazed, delighted, perplexed, at once. Ahmed rapidly explained the discovery he had made, then hurried back through the passage, closed the slab opening into his cell, and returned. He learnt from the doctor of the recent attack on the house by Asadullah, and that the khansaman, in spite of his wishes to the contrary, had gone off that morning to find the old chief, and inform him of his son's plight. Ahmed seized on the attack as affording an explanation of his escape. Minghal would believe readily enough that the prisoner had been rescued by his father, even though the fact that the door was still locked should savour of mystery. Thus the khansaman would be in no danger of dismissal.