"Well, he is dead, and thou shalt pay for the sins of thy brother." "Nay, spare me, and my father will pay thee well." A sudden thought seemed to strike the subadar. He reflected for a few moments before answering the appeal. "Wilt thou swear thou hadst no hand in the explosion?" ha asked, after a pause. "I will--indeed, I swear it." "I must needs think it over," said Pir Baksh musingly. He quitted the room, leaving the boy torn by conflicting emotions. The consciousness that he had not played a manly part, the conviction that his rival Ted Russell would never have been so weak, gave a sharper point to his fears and troubles. On the other hand, had he not been given a faint hope of escape? Do not judge the lad too harshly. It was not death alone, but the prospect of torture that had unnerved him; and remember that the pain of his injuries and the workings of his imagination during the past two days of solitary confinement were calculated to break the spirit of any man above the average, and poor Tynan had hardly the makings of a hero in his character. His case was one for pity rather than contempt. Only those who would have withstood the temptation have the right to despise him utterly, and they would be the last to do so. His hopes of mercy were misplaced. The amount of that quality nourished in the breast of Pir Baksh would have shamed a famished wolf. The rascal had changed his tone because he recollected that the greater his victim's hopes, the more poignant would his suffering be on finding himself deceived. Next evening he again visited the prisoner, and brought paper, pen, and ink. "What was that sound of cheering an hour or two ago?" asked Tynan. He had heard the acclamations that had greeted the arrival of the mutinous Guides, and wondered if help had come. "It means that we have had reinforcements, and that within twelve hours not one of your friends will be alive." Tynan looked keenly at the speaker as he continued. "Perhaps there may be one Feringhi left alive in Aurungpore; it depends on thee. I have been thinking it over, and am inclined to save thy life. We both hate Russell Sahib, and we may prove useful one to another." The prisoner's heart began to beat more hopefully, and he expressed his thanks towards the callous brute. "But on conditions," resumed Pir Baksh. "First, I must have five thousand rupees--a promise in writing for that amount." "You shall have it," said Tynan eagerly. "My father will not grudge it." The subadar nodded his head solemnly and went on: "Secondly, thou must write me a _chit_ in English and Urdu, acknowledging that thou dost owe thy life to my mercy and loyalty." "I will do that, and never shall I forget thy goodness."