"Not for this tall god of air," was the answer. "A fine man, and fit to fill an honoured post! 'Tis a pity that he should be slain. But that is not my business. I am thankful that he is peaceful, for were he to walk towards me and attempt to escape, I could not stop him. I could not even cast this javelin at him." "Have no fear. He is quiet," said the attendant. "You will be undisturbed." An hour or two later it began to get dark, and Roger, who had meanwhile eaten the food and taken the wine, dragged some native mats, supplied for a bed, into the corner, and there he threw himself down, his position enabling him to keep a watch on the summit of the wall, where it cut clear and dark against the sky. "If they come I shall see them," he said. "I shall wait till after midnight, and if after that there is no sign of them, I shall try to cut a ladder in the wall." There was no use in being despondent, and therefore he lay there droning to himself, or thinking of his friends in England. Once he heard a step behind him, a silent stealthy step, and guessing that it was the sentry, spoke to him without turning his head. "Why do you creep in?" he asked quietly. "You disturb my slumbers. Retire at once and leave me." The man was astounded. He thought that he had made no sound, and it was uncanny to be addressed by the prisoner when he had not even turned his head. He bowed and went away apologizing for his suspicions, leaving Roger to himself. "Hist! My lord! Tamba is above." It wanted yet some three hours to midnight when the words came softly to our hero's ears, and looking up he saw a dark outline crouching close to the wall just above his head. Then the tinkle of some metal instrument was heard, and groping in the darkness his hand came in contact with a sword. Thoughtful Tamba! He had taken pains at the very first to see that his master was armed, believing that if the alarm were given he was capable of escaping unaided. But the rope to which the sword was attached was a stout one, made of soft cotton, and Roger guessed its purpose, and grasped it with both hands. The sword he slipped into his belt, while he placed the blade of the dagger between his teeth. "Ready above?" he demanded softly. "Then hold on, for I am coming." CHAPTER XV Back to Mexico "Hist! Silence!" It was Tamba's voice again which came from the top of the wall, and at the sound Roger halted. Already his hands had grasped the cotton rope which had been thrown to him, and he was in the act of clambering up when he heard the warning. "Come quickly! I hear men about! Climb for your life!" This time Tamba leaned over till it seemed that he must lose his balance and topple to the ground. He jerked at the rope, and Roger began to clamber up as rapidly as he could, though he found that a soft cotton affair of this description was not the easiest thing to make one's way up. However, at length he arrived, and the faithful native dragged him on to the top of the wall.