“A dollar!” he repeated, with a look that betokened some notion that my adventure might have affected my reason.
“Aye, a dollar!—or more correctly, perhaps, your ‘fool’s providence,’—chance.” And I related how it had come to pass that I had chosen that direction.
By this time the natives, who had become convinced that I was in reality something more substantial than a ghost, with Kati at their head, flocked about to exhibit their joy at my escape; and, after their national custom, began to walk around and smell me, as is the wont of cats at the sudden appearance of anything strange in the household in which they are domesticated.
“If these fellows possessed tails,” said Martin, laughing, “like cats, they would put them up at any strange animal coming among them. But now, old fellow, let us make for the village, or night will overtake us, and on the way tell us the story of your escape.” But just then Kati declared it to be his opinion that I could not walk, and bent his body forward.
“Another pussy movement,” cried Martin; “Kati is really putting his back up at you;” but without replying to this, I mounted pickback, and then, as Prabu and my brother walked, one on either side, I related to them my adventures, keeping for a more fitting opportunity the name of To-ki, and all that had reference to Marie’s abduction.
“By Jingo!” cried Martin, when I had concluded, “you have had a narrow escape. But let us thank God for His intervention—He alone has preserved you.”
To which my heart echoed, Amen; for deeply I felt that the power alone of the Most High could have brought me through that great peril. Then Martin told me of the horror that had taken possession of him when I had fallen into that chasm, and how that, lighting the torch, he had endeavored to peer through the darkness; that he had shouted down to me, hoping, by an answer, to get proof that I had not been killed, but hearing nothing but the echo of his own voice, he endeavored to get back to Prabu as speedily as possible; but, in consequence of losing his way, he did not reach him till night, when, the torches having been all used, they could not search for me. Then, at daybreak that morning, my brother and his companions had made every effort to discover the chasm down which I had fallen, but they did not succeed even in finding the passage to it. Many others had they explored, but not that one; and at the time I had so fortunately encountered them, worn out with fatigue and dispirited, they were returning to the village, to organize another searching party among those of the natives most experienced in the intricacies of the caves.
“Terrible indeed must have been your feelings, dear Martin!” said I, at the conclusion of his recital. “But, surely, you must have given me up for lost; you never expected to see me again!”
“Well, Claud;” but half choking with emotion—with horror at the might have been, he brushed away the tears from his eyes, exclaiming, “Hang it, old fellow, it is all right now; we have you among us again, so let us be jolly. But I say, Prabu,” he added, “what think you of these nest-robbers? Can you make any guess who and what they are?”
“Darkness is never long lasting, my young master. What is written is written: the light is coming, and the rogues will be known,” was the reply; and more than that on the subject could not be got from him—at least at that time.