quick succession.
“Come out!” he growled. “Come out!--Come out!” although King had not ordered that.
King went and stood under the center light with his left arm bared. The prisoners, emerging like dead men out of tombs, blinked at the bright light--saw him--then the bracelet--and saluted.
“May God be with thee!” growled each of them.
They stood still then, awaiting fresh developments. It did not seem to occur to any one of them as strange that a British officer in khaki uniform should be sporting Yasmini's talisman; the thing was apparently sufficient explanation in itself.
“Ye all know this?” he asked, holding up his wrist. “Whose is this?”
“Hers!”
The answer was monosyllabic and instant from all thirty throats. “May Allah guard her, sleeping and awake!” added one or two of them.
King lit a cheroot and made mental note of the wisdom of referring to her by pronoun, not by name.
“And I? Who am I?” he asked, since it saves worlds of trouble to have the other side state the case. The Secret Service was not designed for giving information, but discovering it.
“Her messenger! Who else? Thou art he who shall take us to the 'Hills'! She promised!”
“How did she know ye were in this jail?” he asked them, and one of the Hillmen laughed like a jackal, showing yellow eye-teeth. The others cackled in chorus after him.
“Answer that riddle thyself--or else ask her! Who are we? Bats, that can see in the night? Spirits, who can hear through walls? Nay, we be plain men of the mountains!”
“But where were ye when she promised?”
“At Ali's. All of us at Ali's--held for debt. We sent and begged of her. She sent word back by a woman that one of the sirkar's men shall free us and send us home. So we waited, eating shame and little else, at Ali's. At last came a sahib in a great rage, who ordered irons put on our wrists and us marched hither. Only when
Prev.
Back
Top