would be removed, his horses and possessions conveyed away before daybreak, and only the empty house would be left, and the usual sickening uncertainty as to one more envoy’s fate. And what would that fate be? His blood ran cold at the thought, but it nerved him to one supreme effort. This street, after many windings, ended at the city wall; if he could once reach that point, he might scale the sloping earthen rampart and succeed in escaping, destitute of everything and in a country swarming with enemies, but with life and honour left him. Gathering all his strength, he burst one of the cords that held him, and flung himself upon the men nearest him, fighting hopelessly with his bound hands. For a moment astonishment made the group give way; but before he could free himself further, one of them, grasping the situation, struck him on the head with a club, and he dropped senseless on the horse’s neck. When he recovered consciousness he was lying on a stone floor. His hands were free, but heavy fetters were round his ankles, and these were connected by a chain to which was attached a heavy weight. He could drag himself slowly about, but to move fast or far was impossible. He felt about his prison; it was all of stone, small and filthy, but dry, and from this, and the fact that a gleam of light came through an aperture near the top of one of the walls, he gathered that he was what might be considered a favoured prisoner. He was in the dungeons of Gamara, which were a name of terror throughout Asia, but not in one of the horrible underground cells. Not that this softened his feelings towards the gaolers. Escape was out of the question, but failing that, his mind fastened itself on the possibility of a speedy death, accompanied preferably by as much damage to his captors as he could succeed in effecting. What was needed was a weapon of some sort. He did not expect to find furniture in the dungeon, but he hunted about for some time in the hope of lighting upon a loose stone, or even a bone from some predecessor’s rations. Nothing of the kind offering itself, he felt about for a jagged edge in the wall, and at last found one, not too far from the floor. Crouching beside it, he lifted the chain attached to the weight, and began to use the rough stone as a file. He worked away with frenzied eagerness, though his hands were soon streaming with blood, and the cramped position caused him intense agony. His mind had no room for anything but the one idea, the obtaining of a weapon. At last his task was accomplished--the link gave way. He was free from the weight, though his feet were still fastened together by a chain only some eight inches long. He tried to work on this next, but in vain, as he could not get the chain into such a position as to reach his file with it. But he had his weapon, and he lifted it with difficulty and placed it where he thought it would be most useful. Then he took up a position behind the door and waited.