If they had used this second to draw their formidable knives, Tom’s adventure might have ended there and then, for in his eagerness he had forgotten to snatch up his revolver. But their halt was due rather to nervousness than to courage, and Tom was never lacking in promptitude at the critical moment. He dashed straight at them. One of them swung round at once and slithered down the path. The other, somewhat more mettlesome, made a grab at his knife. But he had only half drawn it from his belt when Tom’s fist shot out and tumbled him headlong after his comrade. The result would have been amusing if Tom had had time to observe it. From top to bottom of that rocky declivity there was an avalanche of Moors. The impetus with which the topmost man had been shot over the edge sent him smack into the man next below. The two then rolled, or rather pitched, on top of those who had preceded them, and were making their way quickly yet laboriously down the steep tracks, and it is to be feared that there were bruised and broken limbs at the bottom. But Tom had neither eyes nor ears for the discomfiture of his enemies. There was still much to be done before he could be sure that his friends and his airship were out of harm’s way. One of his friends was already taking things into his own hands. At the first hint of what was happening Abdul had left the mouth of the cave, and was now swarming up the perilous face of the hillside. Breathless he came over the brink, on the opposite side from that where the Moors had disappeared, almost before Tom could turn round. “All well below?” asked Tom. “Yes, master.” “Can you bring up the big man?” “With a rope, master.” “Quick, then: we have no time to spare.” “And the Hudi, master?” “What of him?” “He made them come. We tied him, feet and hands.” “Untie him, but leave him. He can make them come again!” A rope was quickly unshipped from the car and strongly looped. Abdul descended, the rope being held by both Oliphant and Tom above, who, doubtful whether their strength would stand the strain of the ponderous German’s weight, hitched it round a rocky prominence at the brink of the hill. But fear lent Schwab extraordinary agility—as once before in the enclosure of Midfont House. With the rope looped about him, he hauled himself up by it, assisting his progress with his feet against the hill. He was in a bath of perspiration, his fat face was pale as death, when he reached the top and sank exhausted at Tom’s feet. Oliphant and Tom together hoisted him into the car, and by the time he was settled, Abdul had cut the Jew’s bonds and again clambered up, pursued by entreaties, wild threats, execrations, from the luckless Salathiel ben Ezra.