Oom Sam scuttled away. Captain Francis looked thoughtful. "That
little fat chap may be right," he remarked. "If I were you I'd get
out of this sharp. You see, I'm going the other way. I can't help
you."

Trent set his teeth.

"I've spent a good few years trying to put a bit together, and this
is the first chance I've had," he said; "I'm going to have you back
me as a British subject on that concession. We'll go down into the
village now if you're ready."

"I'll get an escort," Francis said. "Best to impress 'em a bit, I
think. Half a minute."

He stepped back into the hut and looked steadfastly at the man who
was still lying doubled up upon the floor. Was it his fancy, or
had those eyes closed swiftly at his turning - was it by accident,
too, that Monty, with a little groan, changed his position at that
moment, so that his face was in the shadow? Captain Francis was
puzzled.

"It's like him," he said to himself softly; "but after all the
thing's too improbable!"

He turned away with a shade upon his face and followed Trent out
into the moonlight. The screeching from the village below grew
louder and more hideous every minute.