"Answer the call!" whispered the Gujarati, with a significant squeeze of
the man's windpipe.
When his turn arrived, the sentry took up the word, but it was a thin
quavering call that barely reached the next man a hundred yards away.
While this brief struggle had been going on, a light figure within the
shed had mounted to the rafters and, gently feeling for and twisting
round a couple of wooden pins, handed down to his companions below a
section of the roof some two feet square, which had been kept in its
place only by these temporary supports. The wood was placed silently on
the floor. Then the figure above crawled out upon the roof, and let
himself down by the aid of a rope held by the two Biluchis within.
It was a pitch-dark night; nothing broke the blackness save the scattered
points of light from the sentries' lanterns. Stepping to the side of the
half-garroted Maratha, who was leaning passively against the shed, the
sinewy hand of the Gujarati still pressing upon his windpipe, Desmond
thrust a gag into his mouth and with quick deft movements bound his
hands. Now he had cause to thank the destiny that had made him Bulger's
shipmate; he had learned from Bulger how to tie a sailor's knot.
Scarcely had he bound the sentry's hands when he was joined by one of his
fellow prisoners, and soon seven of them stood with him in the shadow of
the shed. The last man, the Gujarati, had held the rope while the Babu
descended. There was no one left to hold the rope for him, but he swung
himself up to the roof and climbed down on the shoulders of one of the
Biluchis.
Pages:
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195