But the fakir was not with them. On the point of departing when the straw caught fire, he too had been dazed for a moment by the sudden glare, and took a step forward to flee. But then he turned, whipped out his knife, and ran to where Ahmed lay. Ahmed saw him coming, saw the knife in his hand, knew his fell purpose. Quick as thought he wriggled against the wall and drew up his knees. Minghal came swiftly towards him, intent only on his murderous design. Suddenly out shot the prisoner's bound feet; they caught the stooping fakir square on the knees. He reeled back against the loose matting of the doorway, and stumbled against one of the crowd whom the fire had summoned. The man hurled him aside. He fell and was trampled by the feet of others. There were cries all around; some were shouting for water, others were beating at the burning roof with their swords; no one paid heed to the man on the ground. Bruised with kicks he wriggled through the press until he came near the gate; then, in full sight of the sentry, he raised his hands and piously besought the aid of Allah to save the dwellings of the faithful. Meanwhile the British officers had run up to the scene of the conflagration. First of them was Lieutenant Hawes, the adjutant. The men fell back from him as he pushed his way towards the blazing hut. "Where are the men?" he cried. "Is any one inside?" "That we know not, sahib," replied a Gurkha. "We cannot see through the smoke, sahib," added a tall Afridi; "we are beating out the flames." "Idiots!" cried the lieutenant. "Out of the way!" He rushed through the entrance. The hut was so full of smoke that for a moment he could see nothing. Then he caught sight of a figure against the wall: a trooper with his arms crossed on his face to defend it from the shreds of burning thatch that were falling. His legs were drawn up to avoid the flames from a charpoy already half consumed. Thinking he was unconscious, Lieutenant Hawes seized him by the feet and hauled him by main force into the open air. "Who is it?" asked Lumsden, standing there with Dr. Bellew. The prostrate trooper moved his arms. "Ahmed!" cried the adjutant. "You had no business in the hut. Get up!" Ahmed wriggled, but could neither stand nor speak. "Let me see," said the doctor, stooping. "Why, God bless me, he is gagged and tied up!" He slit the cords and removed the gag, and Ahmed got up on his feet. He was half suffocated, and his eyes were red, and watering with the smoke. "There's some devilry here," cried Lumsden. "Bellew, take him to my quarters. Hawes, see that nobody leaves the fort. Some of you men put out the fire and then go quietly to your beds." The gates were by this time shut. When Lieutenant Hawes asked the sentry whether he had noticed any suspicious characters leaving the fort, he replied-- "No, sahib. The last to go before I shut the gate was a holy fakir, who besought Allah that we might be saved from the fire." CHAPTER THE TENTH