curdling threats were hurled at the unhappy Ahmed. Some e of the
men got into the water and began to shove off, as if the engine
could be encouraged by collaboration.

I was just as keen to escape as any one. I could not imagine a
Sikh or subaltern stupid enough to believe me innocent. It was a
military government. Soldiers have a drum-head method of leaving
nothing to discuss except where the corpse is to be buried.

I forced my way aft--got some gasoline out of the tank into a tin
cup--thrust aside Ahmed and two other men--and primed the engine
liberally. The engine coughed next time they moved the wheel,
and in thirty seconds more we had it going. Ahmed came in for a
volley of mockery for having to be shown the way to start his
engine; but from the sour way he looked at me I was nearly sure
he had stalled deliberately.

We backed away from shore, and Anazeh steered the boat's nose
eastward. Then somebody at the reversing lever threw it forward
too suddenly, and the still chilled engine stopped. It took
about another minute to restart it. We were just beginning to
gain speed when some one shouted. All eyes turned toward the
shore, the overloaded boat rocking dangerously as the crowd bent
their bodies all in one direction together.

Down near the shore-line an electric torch flashed on the
uniforms of half-a-dozen Sikhs, and we could hear an unmistakably
British voice shouting an order.

We were out in the moonlight now, a perfect target. Bullets