Somewhat to Finnerty's surprise, Swinton said: "Well, we've given our curiosity a good run for it; suppose we jog back? When we get in the cool of the jungle we'll eat our bit of lunch."
Finnerty did not voice the objection that was in his mind. Certainly the girl had passed that way—was still up above them; why should they give up pursuit because the trail was momentarily broken?
Back across the plateau Swinton had assumed the lead, and fifty yards in the jungle he stopped, saying: "I'm peckish; we'll have a good, leisurely lunch, here."
When they had eaten, Lord Victor, saying he was going to have a look at the bald pate of Safed Jan, strolled back toward the plateau. When he had gone Swinton spoke: "If we stay here long enough, major, the girl, who of course rode that horse whose tracks we followed, will come around that sharp turn in the path, and, figuratively, plunk into our arms. We are at the neck of the bottle—the gateway. There's a mighty cleverly constructed drawbridge in the face of that temple; that brickwork hides it pretty well."
Finnerty whistled. "And the girl, you think, vanished over the let-down bridge?"
"Yes, and probably sat there eyeing us all the time."
"By Jove, they saw us coming on the plateau and drew up the bridge!"
"Yes."
"And what do we do now?"
"Wait here. We'll see her face to face, I'm certain; that will be something. Whether she will have with her what she searches for I don't know."