Draw Swords! Part 48

"All fancy and dreaming," thought d.i.c.k wearily as he was about to turn and try a fresh position. Then there was a solution of the mystery which made it seem as if, though he slept, there was a something within him still on the watch against danger.

For all at once the open window was lit up by the flickering of the lightning, and there at the top, moving gently, were the nude legs of a man, looking black as jet against the pale, lambent light.

Then all was dark, and d.i.c.k lay chained, as it were, to the bed, thinking of his sword, which was hanging against the wall out of reach; of his pistols, equally out of touch, and useless because unloaded. His shotgun and rifle? Both in the sitting-room, at whose door lay the servants, and on the other side of which was his friend and brother-officer.

d.i.c.k's first idea was to call for help. But he hesitated, for he wanted to see more; and he did, for the lightning flickered again, and the legs he had seen were no longer hanging from the upper part of the window, but were at the side, where their owner was feeling with his toes for support on the Venetian-blind like shutters, while a slight, cracking sound told that their strength was being tested.

d.i.c.k lay breathless, with the perspiration pouring from him in the darkness, again for a time trying to nerve himself for an effort, till there was another quick opening and shutting, as it were, of the clouds, and this time he saw a dark figure gliding in over the window-sill like a huge, thick snake.

And now he realised, as he believed, what was about to happen. The question of the safety of the Rajah's present was about to be tested; for, plainly enough, its bringing had been watched, and one of the lithe, active Hindus had by some means--how, the young officer could not divine--managed to climb to the projecting shade of the veranda, and was about to carry it off!

d.i.c.k's thoughts ran fast in those moments, and he argued to himself that, if he shouted to alarm the sleepers near and the sentry below, the man would escape. It would be better, he thought, to let him pa.s.s through the chamber into the sitting-room, and then follow and trap him.

For the window there was shut and fastened, and of the exits, one was guarded by the two servants, the other by Wyatt, who would rouse up at the first alarm.

To carry out his plan d.i.c.k lay perfectly still, listening and watching for the next flash of lightning, which seemed as if it would never come; but when it did, it showed him just what he expected--a dark figure, like a four-footed beast, creeping to the chamber door.

Then came the darkness again, and as d.i.c.k listened, with every nerve on the strain, he heard the door opened and an increase in the loudness of the breathing which came from the servants.

He waited a few moments, to give the marauder time to get right into the sitting-room, but not, as he thought, sufficient to reach down the dangerous weapon, and then glided out of the bed to make for the door, drawing in his breath ready to utter a loud cry as soon as he had reached it.

But in spite of his care the bedstead gave a faint creak, which was followed by a rustling in front; and as he sprang to the door, it was to come in contact with the soft, warm body of the man.

The next moment he was engaged in a wrestling match with an adversary half as strong again as himself, and, in spite of his efforts, he could get no grip of the soft, elastic flesh, whose skin had been lavishly oiled while garments the man had none.

It was a brave effort, though, in which the young officer tried hard to hold the nocturnal visitor by twining arms and legs about him as he was borne here and there, and felt as if he were trying to hold some gigantic eel.

He had succeeded in one thing though. By the dash of his attack he had driven the man back into the sitting-room, where the alarm was given, not by a cry from d.i.c.k, but by the knocking over of a couple of chairs, and then by a crash as the wrestlers struck against the table.

The next moment the man had wrested himself free, and d.i.c.k was sent staggering into the arms of some one who seized him, yelling loudly for help; and then, quite breathless, he was thrown to the floor, and two men were seated upon him, just as the report of the sentry's carbine rang out and Wyatt's door was opened, that individual roaring in Hindustani, "Give up or I'll run you through."

"Here, Wyatt," panted d.i.c.k, "make these two fools get off me. A robber!

a thief! He'll escape by the window."

"Oh, it's you, is it?" growled Wyatt. "Who else is here?"

A flash of lightning showed him the two native servants slowly rising from off the prostrate lad, who leaped to his feet and ran to his bedroom window in the darkness now.

"Below there, guard!" he cried.

"All right, sir. What is it?"

"Did you hit him?"

"Didn't see any one, sir. I tried to give the alarm."

"There's a fellow somewhere about. He got in at my window."

"n.o.body came down this way, sir."

"Have a good hunt. Get more lights," shouted Wyatt, as the corporal of the guard bore a lantern out into the courtyard and held it up.

"Hus.h.!.+ listen!" cried Wyatt; but there was not a sound, and he turned to whisper to his companion, "Sure you weren't dreaming, d.i.c.k?"

"Certain. I had him fast, but he was like a snake."

"But you may have been walking in your sleep."

"No, no! Nearly every thing is torn off me."

"Yes; but that may have been in your struggle with the boys."

"I tell you I was awakened by a slight noise, and saw a dark, naked figure creep in at the window."

"It was too dark to see such a thing, lad."

"What! with flashes of lightning like that?"

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Wyatt, for every thing in the room was for the moment plainly seen.

"I tell you it was a thief creeping in to steal your present."

"What!"

"And I let him get through the door of the room before I followed, so as to trap him."

"Look here, d.i.c.k, lad," said Wyatt; "I'm sorry for this. You've roused every one up."

"You don't believe me?"

"Hark at them, and look at the lanterns.--Below there--see anybody?" he shouted.

"No, sir; there's no one here."

"You don't believe me?" said d.i.c.k hotly.

"Well, old boy, you were talking about n.i.g.g.e.rs coming in at windows to steal it before you went to bed, and you might have dreamed it. I think I was fancying something of the kind when I was woke up by the row."

"Oh, very well," said d.i.c.k shortly; "but I know."

"Don't be huffy, old boy," said the captain; and as a flash came in at the window he caught sight of the trophy on the wall. "I say: the tulwar's all right."

"Because he hadn't time to get it. Hff! how the beast wrenched me about! He was slippery as an eel.--Ah! Now then!" cried d.i.c.k triumphantly; "smell my hands."

Wyatt caught his brother-officer's wrists and raised the extended hands to his face. "Hallo!" he said. "Rancid oil."

"Yes; he was covered with it."

"Here, get a light," cried Wyatt. "Has either of you been oiling himself?"