Amber paused to listen for sounds of pursuit, but hearing nothing save the subdued sigh of the draught between the straitened walls of rock, followed until the walls fell away and his hands, outstretched, failed to touch them, and he was aware that the stone beneath his feet had given way to gravel. He halted, calling guardedly to Labertouche.

The secret-agent's voice came from some distance. "It's all right, my boy. Miss Farrell is with me. Come along."

There was an _elan_ in his tone that bespoke a spirit of gratulation and relief and led Amber to suspect that they were very close upon the end of their flight, near to escape from the subterranean ways of Kathiapur the dead. He proceeded at discretion in the direction of Labertouche's voice--the light being invisible--and brought up flat against a dead wall. Coincidently he heard Sophia exclaim with surprise and delight, somewhere off on his left, and, turning, he saw her head and shoulders move across a patch of starlit sky. In half a dozen strides he overtook her.

They stood on a low, pebbly ledge, just outside the black maw of the pa.s.sage--an entrance hidden in a curtain-like fold in the face of the cliff that towered above them, casting an ink-black shadow. But beyond it the emblazoned firmament glowed irradiant, and at their feet the encircling waters ran, a broad ribbon of black silk purling between the cliff and the opposing sh.o.r.es, where a thicket of tamarisks rose, a black and ragged wall.

Labertouche strode off into the water. "Straight ahead," he announced; "don't worry--'tisn't more than knee-deep at the worst. I've horses waiting on the other side--"

"Horses!" Amber interrupted. "Great heavens, man, you're--you're omniscient!"

"No--lucky," Labertouche retorted briskly. "Where'd I've been without Ram Nath? He's taking care of the animals.... Come along. What're you waiting for? Don't you know--" He turned to see the girl hesitant, though with lifted skirts. "Oh," he said in an accent of understanding, and came back. "If you'll help me, Amber, I daresay we can get Miss Farrell across without a wetting."

He offered to clasp hands with the Virginian and so make a seat; but Amber had a happier thought.

"I think I can manage by myself, thank you--if Miss Farrell will trust me."

His eyes met the girl's, and in hers he read trust and faith unending: he was conscious of a curious fluttering in his bosom.

"Trust _you!_" she said, with a little, broken laugh, and gave herself freely to his arms.

Labertouche grunted and turned his back, wading out into the stream with a great splashing.

Amber straightened up, holding her very close to him, and that with ease. Had she been thrice as heavy he could have borne her with as little care as he did his own immeasurably lightened heart in that hour of fulfilment. And she lay snug and confident, her arms round his neck, the shadowed loveliness of her face very near to him. The faint and elusive fragrance of her hair was sweet and heady in the air he breathed; he could read her eyes, and their allure and surrender was like a draught of wine to him. He felt the strength of ten men invigorate him, and his soul was sober with a great happiness. But a little while and she would be in safety; already her salvation seemed a.s.sured.... The further bank neared all too quickly. He would willingly have lingered to prolong the stolen sweetness of that moment, forgetful altogether of the danger that lay behind them.

Ahead, he saw Labertouche step out upon a shelving sh.o.r.e and, shaking his legs with an effect irresistibly suggestive of a dog leaving the water, peer inland through the tamarisks. His low, whistled signal sounded as Amber joined him and put down the girl--reluctantly. Her whispered thanks were interrupted by an exclamation from Labertouche.

"Hang it all! he can't've mistaken the spot. I told him to wait right here, and now ... We daren't delay." He cast an apprehensive glance across the stream. "Look lively, please."

He shouldered away through the thicket, and for several moments they struggled on through the hindering undergrowth, their pa.s.sage betrayed by much noisy rustling. Then, as they won through to open ground, Labertouche paused and whistled a second time, staring eagerly from right to left.

"I'm blessed!" he declared, with a vehemence that argued his desire for stronger language. "This is bad--bad--bad! He never failed me before!

I--"

A mocking chuckle seemed to break from the ground at their feet, and in the flicker of an eyelash a shadow lifted up out of the scrub-enc.u.mbered level. Sophia cried aloud with alarm; Labertouche swore outright, heedless; and Amber put himself before her, drawing his revolver, heartsick with the conviction that they were trapped, that their labour had gone all for naught, that all futilely had they schemed and dared....

But while his finger was yet seeking the trigger the first shadow was joined by a score of fellows--shades that materialised with like swiftness and silence from the surface of the earth--and before he could level the weapon Labertouche seized his wrist. For an instant he resisted, raging with disappointment; but the Englishman was cool, strong, determined; inevitably in the outcome the weapon was pointed to the sky.

"Steady, you a.s.s!" breathed the secret-agent in his ear. "Can't you see--"

And Amber gave over, in amazement unbounded, seeing the starlight glinting down a dozen levelled rifle-barrels, glowing pale on the spiked, rounded crowns of pith helmets, and striking soft fire from burnished accoutrements; while a voice, thick with a brogue that was never bred out of hearing of Bow Bells, was hectoring them to surrender.

"'Ands up, ye bloomin' black beggars! 'Ands up, I s'y!"

"Tommies!" cried Amber; and incontinently he dropped the revolver as though it had turned hot in his hand.

"Steady, my man!" Labertouche interrupted what threatened to develop into a string of intolerable abuse. "Hold your tongue! Can't you see we've a lady with us?"

"Ul-_lo!_" The soldier lowered his rifle and stepped closer, his voice vibrating with astonishment. "Blimme, 'ere's a go!... beggar of a n.i.g.g.e.r givin' me wot-for 's if 'e was a gent! 'Oo in 'ell d'ye think y'are, yer 'ighness?'

"That'll do. Put down those guns, and call your commanding officer.

I'll explain to him. Where is he? What troops are you? When did you arrive?"

Such queries and commands discharged quickly in crisp English from the mouth of one who wore the color and costume of a Mohammedan of high degree, temporarily dazed his captors. In a body they pressed round the three, peering curiously into their faces--the two white and the one dark; and their murmurings rose and swelled discordant. "Blimme if 'e _ain't_ a gent!" "T'other un is!" "An this un a leddy!"...But to his interrogations Labertouche got no direct reply. While as for Amber, he could have laughed aloud from a heart that brimmed with thanksgiving for the honest sound of their rich rough voices; besides which, Sophia stood very close to him, and her fingers were tight about his....

"What's this?" A sharp voice cut the comments of the Tommies, and they were smitten silent by it. An officer, with jingling spurs and sword in hand, elbowed through the heart of the press. "Stop that row instantly.

What's this? Who are you, sir?"

"I sent the message from Kathiapur, and I'm uncommonly happy to meet you, whoever you may be, sir. Tell your men to fall back, please, and I'll introduce myself properly."

Two words secured the secret-agent the privacy he desired; the officer offered him an ungloved hand as the troopers withdrew out of hearing.

"Happy, indeed!" he said cheerfully. "I'm Rowan, Captain, Fourteenth Pioneers."

"I'm Labertouche, I.S.S. This is Miss Farrell, daughter of Colonel Farrell, and this Mr. Amber, of New York. We're just escaped from that rock over there and--if you'll pardon--I'd suggest you set a strong guard over the ford behind those tamarisks."

"One moment, please." The officer strode off to issue instructions in accordance with Labertouche's advice. "We got here only a quarter of an hour ago," he apologised, swinging back as the men deployed into the thicket, "and haven't had time to nose out the lay of the land thoroughly."

"I infer you got my man with the horses--native calling himself Ram Nath?"

"He's with the Colonel-commanding now, Mr. Labertouche. As I was saying, we've hardly had time to do more than throw a line of pickets round the rock. It's been quick work for us--marching orders at midnight yesterday, down by train to Sar, and forced march across the desert ever since daybreak."

"I'd hardly hoped the thing could be done so quickly. If I had been able to get the information an instant earlier, my mind would've been easier, captain, but--h.e.l.lo!"

From the ford an abrupt clamour of voices interrupted. The officer hooked up his scabbard. "Sounds as if my men had gathered in somebody else," he said hastily. "If you'll excuse me, I'll have a look." He trotted off into the shade of the tamarisks.

As he disappeared the disturbance abated somewhat. "False alarm," Amber guessed.

"I fancy not," said Labertouche. "If I'm not mistaken our friend Naraini left for the special purpose of raising the hue and cry. This should be the vanguard of the pursuit."

Amber looked upward. Overhead the soulless city slumbered in a stillness apparently unbroken, yet he who saw its profile rugged against the stars, could fancy what consternation was then, or presently would be, running riot through its haunted ways.

"How many of 'em are there, do you reckon?" he asked.

"Three or four hundred," replied the secret-agent absently; "the pick and flower of Indian unrest. My word, but this will kick up a row!

Think of it, man! three hundred and fifty-odd lords and princes bagged all at once in the act of plotting the Second Mutiny! What a change it will work on the political face of the land! ... And the best of it is, they simply can't get away."

"Is this the only exit, then--the way we escaped?"

"Not by three--all on the other side of the rocky where they rode up and left their horses. And that's where the most of 'em will come out, by twos and threes, like the animals out of the Ark, you know. What a catch!"

"And we've you to thank!"

"I? Oh, dear boy, thank the Tommies!"

"But what would we have done, or the Tommies either, without you?"

"What indeed!" Sophia echoed warmly. "I've had no chance, as yet--"