"Do not kill him!" he shouted in Urdu, as he limped towards the wounded savage. He wanted to see what Pir Baksh would have to say for himself before he handed him over to be hanged or blown away. The fact must be admitted that Tynan meant to gloat over the failure of the subadar's vile plans.
The Gurkhas did not understand the words, but they divined his meaning.
"Sahib," implored the subadar, "save me from these demons. I spared your life, so do not leave me to be murdered."
"You spared my life!" Tynan indignantly repeated. "You mean you brought me here to torture me."
"Sahib, you wrong me. I did but pretend. I had no influence over those three curs who lie dead--praised be Allah!--and they insisted on slaying you. They would have murdered me had I not feigned to fall in with their plans, and we must all safeguard our own lives first. But I meant to save you, and that is why I rejected their proposals as to the manner of death. I would have tied you to the tree, and, after giving them the slip in the darkness, would have returned to set you free."
"That was to remove their suspicions. The more I seemed to hate you the more easy would it be to help you."
Not being a particularly intelligent youth, Tynan began to think there might be something in what the subadar said.
"Well, thou art my prisoner now, and for the present I will save thy life. Where is thy wound?"
"Indeed, sahib, I fear they have slain me."
Pir Baksh placed his hand to his leg and indicated the nature of the wound. One of the Gurkhas bent down, sliced off some of the cloth with his kukri, and burst out laughing.
"The _kafar_ (coward)!" he cried to his companions.
The bullet had grazed the rebel's thigh, tearing off a little strip of skin. Feeling the sharp sting, Pir Baksh had clapped his hand to the spot and drawn it away covered with blood. Concluding that he was done for, he had tumbled over and howled.
"Get up!" said Tynan brusquely. "You're not hurt."
Turning to the Gurkhas he motioned them to lead the way. Picking up the four muskets, the party set forth, the prisoner in the midst rendered very unhappy by the knowledge that a loaded musket was within a few inches of his backbone, and he dreaded carelessness on the part of the Gurkha. The precaution was unnecessary, for the roaring lion of half an hour ago was now as harmless as a dove.