Taking his note-book from his breast, he tore the sheaf of short-hand notes he had already made, along the perforated line, and began to compose his message for the "Courier" in the code that had been previously arranged.
It took him an hour and a half to complete the work, as writing in code, took longer than the ordinary method.
By the time he had finished, it was past noon, and he wondered at the stillness of the house. Once more he made a tour of the other part of the premises, calling the names of both the man and woman of the house.
They were still absent. It was very mysterious! He could not know that they were among the scores of those who had been trampled to death in the horrible darkness on the Temple mount that morning.
Passing back to his room, he listened at the hanging over that inner room, where the rescued girl lay. He could hear her softly, regularly snoring, and decided to get his message off while she slept.
He was a little dubious about leaving the house door unlocked, yet feared to lock it lest the man and wife should return.
He was gone an hour. Both going and returning, he had been struck with the general desertedness of the streets, but realized that in all probability every one would be resting after the scenes of the morning.
Entering the house he found it exactly as he had left it, and beginning to feel hungry, he hunted about for the wherewithal to make a meal.
Deciding that his protege might soon be stirring, he carried into his living-room all the materials for a meal. When he had spread his table, he remembered the clothes for his protege (he had spread them in the sun to dry, having found them where she had dropped them, by his instructions, out of the window.)
Passing quietly back to the hanging between the two rooms, he listened again. This time she was awake and softly humming the air of "The sands of Time are sinking."