"Punish Asadullah," he said, "it is but right; but punish Minghal also. They are arrows of one quiver. The Arab horse gets whipped and the Tartar is fondled. I am weary of Minghal Khan." But the covetous officials knew that Minghal was poor, whereas rumour ascribed to Asadullah the possession of great treasures of plunder. The treasury was empty. That very day a message came from Gwalior to the effect that the whole army there was willing to place itself at the king's service, and he petulantly made answer: "I say there is no money for their support. We have here in the city 60,000 men, but they have not been able to win one clod of dirt from the English." The opportunity of gaining something for the treasury was too good to be thrown away. At the instance of his sycophants the king demanded a heavy fine from Rahmut. The chief, curbing his wrath, begged until morning to get the money. Before morning dawned, he had his men saddled up, and the moment the gates were opened he dashed through the streets at the head of his force, rode out by the Ajmir gate, and fled away into the open country. Before the news reached the palace, before any one could think of pursuit, the old Pathan was out of sight. Night being as day to Ahmed in his dungeon, he set to work at once with the file the khansaman had given him. The links of his chain were of soft iron, and with ready wit he thought of a way by which he might for a time disguise the fact that his fetters were loosed. He filed through one of the links, and then a portion of the next one, until he was able to pass this thinned portion through the gap he had made in the first. If, therefore, he should be suddenly disturbed, he could at once replace the links, and, by turning one of them round so that the portion yet unfiled was brought against the part that was cut, the chain might appear to be still unbroken. As soon as he was free he made a tour around his dungeon, rather by way of distraction and to stretch his legs than with any idea of making a discovery that would further his escape. The vault was pitch dark. He had seen it by the light of the oil-lamp during the visits of Minghal and the khansaman, but taken no particular note of it. He now went round it, feeling the walls with his hands. They were of rough-hewn stones; there was no variation except at the door. He shook that: it was locked fast. He went back to the staple and sat down; after a time, having nothing better to do, he started again, and examined the door by touch more carefully. There was no handle, not even a keyhole on the inside. Thinking he heard footsteps, he retreated so hastily that he narrowly escaped overturning the pitcher of water. It was a false alarm. Once more he went round the walls, this time in the opposite direction.