In another minute he was free.
He threw the sheet from him and looked about, accustoming his eyes
to darkness. Presently, not far from him, he made out the sheeted
figure of another man, who lay exactly as he had done and worked with
tired fingers. He drew the dagger out of his hair and cut the man
loose.
"Jagut Singh!" he exclaimed.
The trooper stood up and saluted.
"Who brought thee here?"
"Women, sahib, in a carriage!"
"When?"
"Even now!"
"Where is that Afridi?"
"Dead, sahib!"
"How?"
"She brought us water in a brass vessel, saying it was by thy
orders, sahib. She cut us loose and gave him water first. Then, while
she gave me to drink the Afridi attacked her, and I slew him with my
hands, tearing his throat out--thus! While the life yet fluttered in
him they threw a sheet over me--and here I am! Salaam, sahib!"
The trooper saluted again.
"Who made thee prisoner in the first place?"
"Hillmen, sahib, at the orders of the Afridi who is now dead. They
made ready to torture me, showing me the knives they would use. But
she came, and they obeyed her, binding the Afridi fast to me. After
that I heard the sahib's voice, and then this happened. That is all,
sahib."
"Well!" said Ranjoor Singh. And for the third time his trooper saw
fit to salute him.
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