But, although a grayish pallor showed through the tan of his skin, his eyes were feverishly bright, and there, as I knelt beside him, I thanked heaven, silently but fervently.
Then, in furious haste, I set to work to remove the gag. It was most ingeniously secured by means of leather straps buckled at the back of his head, but I unfastened these without much difficulty, and he spat out the gag, uttering an exclamation of disgust.
“Thank God, old man!” he said, huskily. “Thank God that you are alive! I saw them drag you in, and I thought...”
“I have been thinking the same about you for more than twenty-four hours,” I said, reproachfully. “Why did you start without—”
“I did not want you to come, Petrie,” he replied. “I had a sort of premonition. You see it was realized; and instead of being as helpless as I, Fate has made you the instrument of my release. Quick! You have a knife? Good!” The old, feverish energy was by no means extinguished in him. “Cut the ropes about my wrists and ankles, but don’t otherwise disturb them—”
I set to work eagerly.
“Now,” Smith continued, “put that filthy gag in place again—but you need not strap it so tightly! Directly they find that you are alive, they will treat you the same—you understand? She has been here three times—”
“Karamaneh?”...
“Ssh!”
I heard a sound like the opening of a distant door.