"We must go at once, sahib," he whispered. "It is so dark up here that the guard in the court can see nothing. I shall go up on to the roof, and lower the rope. The sahib will make it quite fast round beneath his arms, and then tug once, and step on to the window-sill. He will then trust to me, and I shall draw him up." "But can you, Dost?" I said nervously. "The sahib may believe me. I am very strong." As he spoke, he placed his hands on my waist, and lifted me up with the greatest ease, setting me down again lightly. "Now, sahib; ready?" I could just dimly see him step to the window, and I felt that he must have seized a rope, up which he passed with the activity of a monkey, and I saw plainly enough now why he had not been discovered. The next minute, after a faint grating noise, I felt the rope swinging backward and forward. I caught it, and secured it firmly about my waist, climbed on to the window-sill, jerked the rope, and felt it tighten slowly, then more and more, till it lifted me from where I stood, and I felt myself gliding slowly upward, my heart beating violently the while, for I was utterly helpless, and as I was not exerting myself, I suffered the more mentally, wondering whether the rope would hold--whether Dost would have strength enough to haul me right up--whether the guards pacing the court would hear us, and look up and see us by the light of their lanthorns, and give the alarm--whether Salaman would enter the room and miss me. These thoughts rushed like lightning through my brain as I felt the jerk, jerk of the rope, and gazed skyward. I suppose I must have been about half-way to the roof when I heard a faint click and shivered. My scabbard had struck against the wall, and I looked wildly down at the guards, but to my great surprise they had not heard it, and were continuing their walk. Dost paused for a few moments as he heard the sound, and I did not stir, but hung close to the wall, with my heart beating painfully, before I dared to seize the scabbard with one hand and hold on. Then the jerking motion was begun again, and once more I suffered a kind of martyrdom as I fully expected to find that the rope would slacken, and that I should be precipitated on to the marble flags of the court. Oh, how long it seemed. For it was a minute of gold drawn out into a wire of what seemed to be endless length. Then I was at the top, and passed my right hand over to seize the parapet, while Dost's hands were busy about my chest, and the next thing I remember is being dragged down on to the flat, Eastern roof, where I lay panting with Dost lying by my side, but with his eyes level with the parapet, as he listened for tokens of alarm.