“Cheerio,” said Forsyth as he went off. “Hope you’ll enjoy the family vault as much as I have. I’ve taken some photos, and I don’t believe any one ever comes here except, perhaps, once a month or so.”
Payindah and I settled down to our monotonous watch, and nothing moved before us save the obscene birds.
CHAPTER IX
A LADY JOINS US
Payindah took first shift, while I settled myself into a corner of the rock below him with a pocket edition of Browning, which I generally carry when travelling. It is an old friend that has solaced many a lonely hour and many a lonely place.
I had been reading for about three quarters of an hour—I remember the poem was “One Word More”—when Payindah gave a low hiss. I looked up and saw he had turned his head round.
“There’s some one in the gate,” he said.
I slipped the book into my pocket, climbed up beside him, and stared out across the open space, but saw nothing.
“Where?” I asked.
“Something moved in the third loophole. There it is again! Look!”
I gazed through the glasses, and then just caught a faint flicker. It might have been anything—a man’s hand, a flutter of cloth; but something certainly moved in the shadow of the arrow-slit. We crouched there silently for perhaps ten minutes, and nothing more happened. Then suddenly Payindah spoke, and I saw his rifle slip forward.