Chapter 27: A Grim Sentinel.

Luchman looked off to where Wana Affghar was seated on his black pony, intently watching proceedings, and circling his knife over his head. As his two followers fell, he uttered a defiant shout.

It seemed as if the infuriated chieftain was about to charge upon the fugitives with all his men; but, if he meant to do so, he changed his mind.

Several of the Ghoojurs, however, fired their guns, and the bullets were heard pattering among the leaves and flattening themselves against the walls of the temple. None came near the defenders.

The missionary and his wife and daughter came forth just as the two young men fired with such effect. Luchman, relieved of all immediate danger, sauntered back through the archway with the same dignity that he showed when leaving it. All congratulated him on his escape. He in turn thanked Avery and Harkins for their timely shots that saved him from an encounter in which, to say the least, the chances were against him.

Avery and Harkins lost no time in reloading their weapons. Luchman said they were safe from any molestation until nightfall; and, as the young men were in need of rest, they passed back into the larger apartment and lay down on the hard flinty floor. Marian and her mother, though not in such need of repose, went into the smaller room, leaving the missionary with Luchman. The two talked in low tones for a long time, the missionary finally withdrawing, so that the native at last was left alone.

Luchman did not need to be told, after what had taken place, that no mercy would be shown to him and those under his care, and he did not expect any attempt to resume the negotiations.

In the course of the afternoon he discovered that three of the Ghoojurs were stealing along the depression in the plain. He suspected their business, but offered no objection. When close to where the stark bodies of their former companions lay, they sprang up and rushed out to them. Luchman could have picked them off with the rifles of his companions which had been left with him, but he had no wish to do so, and he suffered them to bear off their ghastly burden without hindrance from him.

The brigands appeared to grow weary of lolling in the sun, and withdrew to the shade of some trees, where they disposed of themselves in a more comfortable fashion. Possibly they hoped by this withdrawal to tempt the Feringhees far enough from the temple to give a chance for cutting them off, but Luchman had no thought of any such venture.

Since no rain falls during the month of May in northern India, it may be wondered what grounds Luchman could have for hope of the final escape of his friends. The night was well lit up by the bright moon, so that, except for the slight decrease in temperature, it was no more favorable for flight than the day. But within the bronzed skull of the Hindoo a busy brain was at work, and was sure to conjure up some scheme, desperate though it might be.

When night began closing in, there was little change. The brigands were still among the trees, but several came out and ventured closer to the temple, though they took good care to keep beyond reach of the two deadly rifles.