But the same accident that saved Desmond's life gave Diggle an opportunity of which he was quick to avail himself. Before Desmond could recover his footing, Diggle shortened his arm and was about to drive his sword through the lad's heart. The Gujarati saw the movement. Springing in with uplifted knife, he attempted to turn the blade. He succeeded; he struck it upwards; but the force with which he had thrown himself between the two swordsmen was his undoing. Unable to check his rush, he received the point of Diggle's sword in his throat. With a terrible cry he raised his hands to clutch his assailant; but his strength failed him; he swayed, tottered, and fell gasping at Desmond's feet, beside the lifeless overseer. Desmond saw that the turn of fortune had given the opportunity to him. He sprang forward as Diggle tried to recover his sword; Diggle gave way: and before he could lift his dripping weapon to parry the stroke, Desmond's blade was through his forearm. Panting with rage, he sought with his left hand to draw his pistol; but Desmond was beforehand with him. He caught his arm, wrenched the pistol from him, and, breathless with his exertions, said: "You are my prisoner." "'Tis fate, my young friend," said Diggle, with all his old blandness; Desmond never ceased to be amazed at the self command of this extraordinary man. "I have let some blood, I perceive; my sword arm is for the time disabled; but my great regret at this moment--you will understand the feeling--is that this gallant friend of yours lies low with the wound intended for another. So Antores received in his flank the lance hurled at Lausus: infelix alieno volnere." "I dare say, Mr. Diggle," interrupted Desmond, "but I have no time to construe Latin." Covering Diggle with his pistol, Desmond stooped over Fuzl Khan's prostrate body and discovered in a moment that the poor fellow's heart had ceased to beat. He rose, and added: "I must trouble you to come with me; and quickly, for you perceive you are at my mercy." "Where do you propose to take me, my friend?" "We will go this way, and please step out." Diggle scowled, and stood as though meditating resistance. "Come, come, Mr. Diggle, you have no choice. I do not wish to have to drag you; it might cause you pain." "Surely you will spare a moment to an old friend! I fear you are entirely mistaken. 'Tis pity that with the natural ebullition of your youthful spirit you should have set upon a man whom--" "You can talk as we go, Mr. Diggle, if you talk low enough. Must I repeat it?" "But where are we going? Really, Mr. Burke, respect for my years should prompt a more considerate treatment." "You see yonder point?" said Desmond impatiently; "yonder on the shore. You will come with me there."