"I hope to goodness this rascal was working by himself," went on Mr. Haydon, "and no one knew what he was about. We don't want a companion peering in to see what has happened to him."



"What under the sun are we going to do with him, father?" whispered Jack.

"We must leave him tied up here and run for it," replied Mr. Haydon. "I see nothing else that we can do."

"Nor I," replied Jack; "and the sooner we march the better. We don't know that there was not someone outside to help him carry off the spoil, and the accomplice may have learned of our presence."

"You are right, Jack," said his father.

"But there is Me Dain, we must pick him up," pursued Jack. "Without him we do not know where to strike. How can we get hold of him?"

"The woman will be of service there," said his father. "She is our only hope."

He spoke with the native woman for a few moments, then gave a whistle of satisfaction below his breath.

"She knows where he is lodging, and thinks she can rouse him without disturbing anyone else," whispered Mr. Haydon; "at any rate, she is going to try."

The woman shuffled down the steps, and was gone in an instant.

"We may as well go down and be ready for a move," murmured Mr. Haydon, "but we'll try this chap's knots first."

They examined the bound thief, and made certain that he could not easily shuffle out of his bonds, then they went down to the main room of the hut and posted themselves near the door.

The time they waited seemed never-ending. In reality it was not more than twenty minutes. But when they feared that every sound would see an alarm raised upon them and their escape hopelessly cut off, every minute seemed an hour.

Jack had his eye at a huge crack in the door, and to his immense relief he made out at last a couple of figures approaching the house under the dim shade of the trees.

"Here they are," he breathed. "She's brought it off all right. I can make out Me Dain."

Two seconds later the Burman shot into the hut with a stealthy, noiseless glide.

"Come on," he said. "Not stop at all. She tell me everything."

Away they went at once, Me Dain leading the way, with Jack and his father close behind. The Burman dodged round the corner of the hut, and struck at once into a hard well-trodden path which was at once swallowed up in the thick shade of a close-set grove of bamboos. It was a path leading to a pagoda much frequented by the villagers, and would show no sign by which they might be tracked on the morrow. Me Dain had made himself familiar with the ins and outs of the place, and he marched forward with a swift and assured step. Luckily, the hut stood right on the outskirts of the village, and in a few moments they were out of sight of any house, and when they turned aside from the path to the pagoda they soon left behind all sign of human presence.

As they crossed a little clearing, Jack thought he heard a soft footfall in their rear. He turned, and saw, to his surprise, that the native woman was a short distance behind them, with her child in her arms.

"Why," said Jack, "the woman of the hut is following us."

"Yes," replied Me Dain. "She must come, sahib. If U Saw catch her, he burn her alive for hiding you."

"Likely enough, the unspeakable brute," murmured Mr. Haydon. "We must put the poor woman in a place of safety, Me Dain. We owe her a great deal."

"She not want to stop in that place, anyhow, sahib," replied the Burman. "She belong to a village over the hills. She want to go back, now her husband is dead."

"Oh, very good," said Mr. Haydon. "We'll put her right if we have the chance."

"Yes, yes," said Jack. "She's been a good staunch friend to us, the same as you, Me Dain."

"Very true, Jack," said Mr. Haydon.



CHAPTER XXXV.

THE FLIGHT FROM THE VALLEY.

They now went a couple of miles in silence, keeping a sharp look-out on every hand. But they gained the foot of the hills which encircled the valley without seeing or hearing anything which might promise danger.

With Me Dain still in the van, they climbed steadily up a steep slope and over a rocky saddle between two peaks which lifted sharp points against the starry sky.

As they gained the saddle, Jack whispered sharply: "Stop, Me Dain, what's this? I smell something."

"Me too," said the Burman, snuffing cautiously. "There is a fire somewhere ahead."

"A fire," said Mr. Haydon. "We must take care. Who have lighted it, and what are they doing in a lonely spot like this?"

A dozen steps again and the questions were answered. They cleared a little ridge and saw, two or three hundred yards ahead, a great glowing patch of red where a big fire blazed up, and figures moved to and fro about it.

"A watch-fire," said Jack. "We'd better dodge back. Luckily they're up wind."

The fugitives retreated until the fire was hidden from their view by a great rock, then put their heads closely together to whisper to each other.

"Watchmen," said Me Dain; "they are watchmen keeping guard over the path which runs out of the valley towards the hills."

"Then those cunning villains have set a watch over every road," murmured Mr. Haydon. "Do you know of any way to get out without following a path, Me Dain, any way by which we can clamber over the hills?"

"No, sahib, I do not," replied the Burman; "but here is the woman who has lived ten years in the valley. I will ask her."

For a couple of minutes Me Dain and the native woman held a whispered conversation, then the Burman breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"She can take us out of the valley, sahibs. She can lead us by a way, very rough and hard to follow, but very little used, where they would not trouble to set a guard. But we cannot follow it in the darkness. She will take us to the mouth of the pass, and there we must wait for daylight."

"Good, good," said Jack in a cheerful whisper, "we'll dodge these fellows after all. What luck that the woman marched with us!"

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a fierce yelping and snarling broke out not forty yards away, and the sound swiftly approached them.

"Confound it all, a dog, a dog!" growled Mr. Haydon.

In another instant the animal was leaping and bounding within two or three yards of them, snarling savagely, and then making the hill-side ring with its piercing barks. It belonged to one of the guards, and had been prowling about in search of food when it caught the scent of the fugitives.

"This way, this way, sahibs," cried Me Dain in low, eager tones. "Quick, quick, the men sure to come to see why the dog make a noise."

"Sure to, for a certainty," groaned Mr. Haydon. "Well, we must run for it."

Away they hurried as fast as the darkness would permit, and the wretched cur hung on their heels, yelping and barking without pause, and thus guiding the guards straight to their prey.

"We must stop this brute's mouth or we are utterly done for," said Jack. At that instant he stumbled over a large stone. He bent, picked it up, and turned round. Four or five yards behind them, and plainly to be marked by its eyes shining green in the darkness, was the dog, which, by its mere power of drawing enemies upon them, was, at the moment, the most terrible enemy of all.

For a second Jack hung on his aim, the heavy stone poised high in his right hand. Then he hurled it with all his force. Crash! He heard the missile strike the brute with a heavy thud. The dog gave one last frightful yelp of pain, then dropped and lay silent Whether the beast was dead or only stunned Jack did not know, nor did he care. He knew that he had silenced the miserable cur, and that was all he wished.

Enough harm had been done already. A bunch of dancing lights now shot into view, and he saw them borne swiftly on. The watchmen, carrying torches, were running to the spot where the dog had given the alarm.

Jack now caught up his friends with a few swift strides, and all the party hurried on, the woman leading the way and guiding them.

"Well done, Jack," murmured his father. "Well done, my lad. If you hadn't put a stop to that brute's yelping, he'd have brought those fellows on us as straight as they could run. Now they've got to look for us in the dark, and that's a very different affair."

"Do you think they'll pick up our trail from the spot where they find the dog?" asked Jack.

"Oh, no," said Mr. Haydon, "not easily. The ground is hard, and running a line by torchlight is a very different thing from running it by daylight. I hope to goodness we can make good headway before the dawn, for with the first peep of day they'll be after us as fast as they can lay foot to ground."

At this moment both looked back and saw the plump of torches come to a stand. The watchmen had reached the spot where Jack had struck down the dog, and, through the silence of the night, the eager, excited voices of the Kachins could plainly be heard as they debated hotly about the dog's fate, and what it meant.

Then the bunch of lights scattered and began to flicker here and there. The guards were looking for the trail of those who had struck down the dog. On and on ran the fugitives, and soon Jack saw that his father had been right about the difficulties of tracking by torchlight. The points of fire behind them became more and more scattered, and not one came on or followed them. Then they turned the shoulder of a hill, and all was darkness and silence once more.

It wanted an hour of daylight when they came to the mouth of the pass by which they were to escape through the ring of hills which encircled the valley.

"Must wait now," said Me Dain. "She say no man can go through the pass unless he can see the way."

"Are we to lose time, Me Dain?" said Jack. "Can't we creep on slowly and make a little headway?"

The Burman talked again to the woman, but she was most emphatic in declaring that nothing could be done until the day broke; so they crouched in silence under lee of a great boulder until the first faint bars of light began to show in the east.

As soon as it was possible to see a yard or so before them the march began. The woman led the way, with her sleeping child in her arms, Me Dain followed her closely, and Jack and his father brought up the rear.

They soon saw why daylight had been needed for the task of escaping from the valley by this road. Their way lay through a narrow pass which ran through a deep cleft of the mountains, a cleft which seemed as though it had been carved out by a blow of a Titanic axe. There was scarcely a yard of the narrow path upon which a step could be taken smoothly and easily. For ages upon ages the forces of nature had been tearing huge boulders and slices of rock from the frowning heights above, and toppling them into this crevice between the mountains. Thus the way was littered with huge stones, over which they climbed, between which they threaded their way, down which they often slid and scrambled as best they could.

For some hours they toiled steadily along this wild, rocky gorge, then a halt was called to rest and breathe. The native woman, a lithe, nimble creature, was as little discomposed by the hard, rough march as any of them, although she carried her child, nor would she allow anyone to help her with her burden.

Their breathing space was but short. They had halted on a ridge which commanded a big stretch of the country they had crossed. Jack was seated on the ground, with his back to the wall of rock behind them. Suddenly he sprang to his feet. He looked steadily for a moment down the pass, then he said quietly, "We are pursued."

Mr. Haydon had stretched himself at full length on the ground to rest. Hearing those words from his son, he leapt also to his feet and looked eagerly in the direction to which Jack's outstretched finger was pointed. Far away a patch of the pass lay in sunlight. For the most part the narrow cleft through the hills lay in gloomy shadow of the precipices which bordered it on either hand, but the climbing sun shot pencils of light here and there into the deep rift. Across one of these sunny patches a line of tiny figures was streaming. Only for a moment were they visible. They crossed the field of light, then vanished into the huddle of rocks which littered the foot of the pass.

"Fifteen," said Jack, as the last of them disappeared.

Mr. Haydon whistled sharply and nodded.

"We've travelled fast, Jack," said he, with a troubled brow, "but these hard-bitten, wiry, little mountaineers have travelled faster. We must put our best foot foremost. It will be fatal to be caught in this narrow gully between the rocks. They will get round us and rush us from all sides at once."

"I thought we'd got a much better start than this," said Jack.

"So did I," replied his father, "but it has turned out otherwise."

Me Dain's words were short but to the point.

"Kachins!" he cried. "Come on," and pushed ahead with the woman, who was off like a deer at the first hint of danger.

"How far to the end of the pass, Me Dain?" called Mr. Haydon.

"Not more than two miles, sahib," replied the Burman.

"Good," said Jack, "if we can only clear the pass we may find some means of throwing them off. In the pass they have us tight between the walls."

"That's it, Jack," returned his father, and then they hurried over the wild broken track in silence.

Half a mile farther on Jack pointed forward. "Hallo!" he said, "here's another of those roads built along the precipice. I hope it will be a bit sounder than the last."

In another moment they arrived at a stretch of the path where the road was carried in mid-air over a deep chasm in the bed of the pass. They had already passed two such places, and at each point the road was constructed in the same manner. Holes had been cut horizontally in the sheer face of the precipice and huge beams driven into them. About six feet of each beam was left projecting from the hole, and upon these outstanding bars, smaller beams were laid parallel to the face of the rock. The earth had been heaped on all, and the result was a narrow road running along the cliff like a shelf.

The last they had passed had been very rotten, and Me Dain had gone through one hole up to his arm-pits. He had only been saved from a fall into the yawning gulf below by the promptness of Jack, who had flung himself on his knees and whipped his hands under the Burman's arms, and held him up. Warned by this misadventure, they moved slowly and carefully along the narrow track which now lay before them.

"Take care, take care," said Mr. Haydon, "this road is worse than the others. We must go in single file. These beams will not take any great weight."

They spread themselves out in a line, with a yard or more between each person, and went gingerly forward.

The truth was, that hundreds of years before, when some native ruler had gone to immense trouble and labour to build these roads, the pass had been an important highway. But a tremendous land-slide had blocked a portion of the pass, and swept away a number of the wooden roads, and the way had fallen into disuse. Since then the vast beams of teak which formed the road-bed had been slowly crumbling into decay, and many were very insecure.

As Jack brought up the rear of the little procession, he kept his eyes fixed on the road at his feet, and this for two reasons. One, to avoid the rotten places, and the other, because to look around from a roadway six feet wide into the yawning gulf which gaped beside him was very dizzying.

Suddenly he heard a scream from the native woman who guided them. He looked ahead at once, but could not see her. The little procession was now winding its way round an acute angle of the cliff about which the road had bent sharply. The woman was out of sight; Me Dain was disappearing. Mr. Haydon quickened his steps, and Jack hurried on too. What had that scream meant? It had not been loud, but low and full of awful terror. What lay beyond the angle?

Jack turned the corner and saw, and his brown face blanched as he saw the frightful corner into which circumstances had driven them. Ten yards beyond the angle, the road ended abruptly, broken short off. Whether the beams had given way and fallen into the chasm, or whether an avalanche of rocks had beaten the road into ruins, they knew not, nor did it matter. What mattered was this, that fifty yards beyond them the road had again joined the solid bed of the pass, and that now along that fifty yards nothing was left save here and there a broken stump of teak standing out from the face of the precipice. Nothing without wings could pass over the wide space where the road had been stripped from the cliff.

For a moment no one could speak. They could only stare aghast at the gulf beside and before them, at the little strip of road broken off short and square at their feet. How were they to pass this frightful, yawning abyss?



CHAPTER XXXVI.

PENNED IN THE PASS.

"What's to be done now, father," said Jack in a low, quick voice; "the road's clean gone. We're trapped."

Both stepped forward and looked over the edge of the sheer descent where the road ended. A broad torrent foamed along fifty feet below. The side of the precipice fell away to the stream as smooth as a wall. It rose above them just as smooth. No way up or down. They saw that in an instant.

"Better go back and try another way," said Mr. Haydon. "Ask her, Me Dain."

A few swift words passed between the Burman and the native woman. Then the guide shook his head soberly. There was no other way that she knew of.

Jack stepped back to the angle and peered carefully round it. "The Kachins are coming," he said.

The shelf-road had risen as it ran along the precipice, and from this point he could see a long way down the pass. He saw the bunch of pursuers sweep into sight and race up the pass. His father joined him at once.

"They would see us now if we went back," said Mr. Haydon. "What on earth are we to do, Jack?"

Jack knit his brows in perplexity, but made no answer. He could not see what to answer. Behind them a band of savage and determined enemies; before them a gulf over which none but a bird could pass.

"We're in a frightful fix," he murmured at last.

"Frightful," rejoined his father. "I give you my word that I see no way out."

"Nor I, father," said Jack. "It seems to me that all we can do is to try to hold them off at this corner."

"But how?" asked Mr. Haydon.

"The road's fearfully rotten just at the bend," said Jack. "I think we could break it down pretty easily. It trembled and shook as I passed over it."

"I see," returned his father, "break the road down and keep them from rushing us. But what of ourselves? How will it advantage us to be isolated on a patch of road, stuck against the face of the cliff like a swallow's nest against a wall?"

"Frankly, I don't know, father," replied Jack. "I simply put that forward as the only means I can see of gaining a slight respite. Otherwise they will be among us and cut our throats in short order."

"Or make us captives, which would be a long sight worse," said Mr. Haydon. "Well, Jack, we'll give ourselves an hour or two longer to look at the sun. Down goes the road!"

The three men sprang to the task at once. First, with their hands, they scraped away the earth, which was very thin on the face of many of the beams. When this was removed, there was exposed to sight the flooring of small beams laid lengthways across the big beams which jutted from the rock. From this flooring each selected the soundest stick he could find.

Jack was lucky in dropping across a bit of teak in capital preservation, a bar eight feet long, four inches square, and as hard as iron. With this he began to batter at the rotten patch of roadway where the angle of the cliff was turned, and a few strokes on the rotten timbers served to tumble them headlong into the raging torrent below. His father and Me Dain were hard at work beside him, and in a very few minutes they had broken away the softest part of the road, leaving a ragged gap fifteen feet wide, just at the turn.

They made the last strokes at the outer side in the very face of their enemies. When they withdrew to the shelter of the inner angle, the racing Kachins were not a hundred yards away. In another moment the fugitives heard their pursuers gather close at hand. The little men in blue were now only a few yards away, clustered about the farther edge of the gap, and chattering to each other in a very excited fashion.

Me Dain listened intently. "They make a bridge," he whispered.

"Ay, ay," returned Mr. Haydon. "Drop a few sticks across and come at us."

Jack gripped his stout bar of teak as a plan flashed into his mind. He crept forward inch by inch until he was on the verge of the gap they had torn in the road. Yet all the time a friendly rib of rock at the projecting angle of the precipice protected him from the long iron-barrelled muzzle-loaders carried by U Saw's retainers.

The expert hands of the Kachins made short work of tearing up a number of small beams. Jack heard them dragging the timbers forward, and he poised his bar. A beam was flung across, and a second almost at once fell beside it. Out darted Jack's bar, and both were hurled into the chasm.

The Kachins gave a yell of anger, and threw the next beam across at the outer angle, as far as possible from the face of the cliff. But Jack could just reach it, and that, too, he thrust into space. Again and again they tried to make for themselves a footbridge by which the gap could be crossed, but every time Jack's ready bar foiled their purpose completely. There was a still louder yell of anger from the savage little men as the last beam they had torn up was hurled from its place. Then for a few moments there was a respite. The fugitives could hear them draw off to a short distance and hold a conference in low murmurs. Jack now looked round at his companions. His father and Me Dain were close behind him. The native woman, her child closely clasped to her breast, was watching his every movement, her face filled with mingled feelings of fear and hope.

"Well done, Jack!" murmured his father. "You've been one too many for them at that game."

The Burman now crept forward, and thrust his head as far as he dared round the angle. The voices of the Kachins had risen in eager debate, and many of their words could be caught. Me Dain listened intently. In a few moments he turned his head, and there was a very puzzled look on his face.

"They are—they are," he began, then stopped. Clearly his English could not bear him out this time. He said a few words in Burmese to Mr. Haydon.

"They are casting lots," said the latter to Jack.

"What for, I wonder?" said Jack. "Seems a queer thing."

"They're a queer little crew," returned his father. "As savage and blood-thirsty as so many ferrets. We shall soon see."

Within five minutes they did see, and the event proved how desperate an enemy they had to deal with.

Me Dain had retired, and Jack had once more taken up his place beside the gap, his bar in his hands, and his ears strained to catch the faintest sound made by those who beleaguered the little party.

Lucky for them was it that he kept so close a watch. For there was a sudden patter of feet beyond the gap, and then a figure with flying kilt, and fierce, dark face flashed into sight. Upon this Kachin had the lot fallen to leap the gap and lead an attack on the fugitives. Had not Jack's bar been ready, the fiery mountaineer would have been among them, with his gleaming dah poised for the stroke.

But even as he landed, his splendid bound carrying him a couple of feet over the edge, the heavy bar shot out and caught him a tremendous butting blow, full in the chest. He reeled, staggered, and his dah flew from his hands, as he made a frantic clutch at the bar. For a second he struggled to make his foothold good on the brink of the abyss, but failed. He dropped back and vanished into the gulf without a sound.

Jack recovered his bar, and waited with a stern, grim face for the next attack. It was a life and death struggle now, and it was his duty to guard the gap. Mr. Haydon caught up the dah which had flown from the hand of the Kachin, and swung it with a deep guttural sound of satisfaction. Me Dain had his great knife in his hand.

For some time there was complete silence among their enemies. The terrible fall of the man who had been chosen by lot to lead the way, seemed to teach them a little caution. But it had not the smallest effect in the direction of quelling their desire to come to close quarters with the fugitives. The Kachin is utterly too careless of human life, whether his own or another's, for that.

Half an hour passed before a fresh assault was made. The minutes dragged by with horrible slowness to those who awaited their fate on the isolated patch of ledge.

Then, with no more warning of their approach than the patter of naked feet on the earthen path, a second assault was made in the same fashion. Again a Kachin leapt into sight, but farther out, and so more out of reach of the bar. His hands were empty, too, and as Jack stepped forward and thrust at him, he clutched the end of the bar. This he did just as he alighted, and, dropping on his feet as nimbly as a cat, he strove to turn the bar aside. Swift upon his heels three more Kachins came, clearing the gulf and landing in safety, while their comrade and Jack struggled for mastery of the bar.

Upon the instant the tiny ledge was filled with the fury of a desperate combat. Mr. Haydon sprang out and cut down the second Kachin, as he ran forward to strike at Jack with his heavy weapon. The third attacked the Burman, and the fourth closed with Mr. Haydon, their heavy swords clashing together as they slashed fiercely at each other.

Jack had no eyes for any but his own enemy. The Kachin, perched as he was on the very brink of a horrible abyss, fought as coolly as possible to master the bar and avoid the swift thrusts by which at every second Jack threatened to drive him over the edge.

Suddenly the Kachin gave way and dropped flat. Jack thought his enemy was disposed of, but the shifty mountaineer had only fallen along the lip of the gulf to dodge the powerful strokes delivered by the English lad. With a swift movement the Kachin rolled under the bar, and then was up like lightning and rushing on Jack, a long dagger, plucked from his girdle, in his hand.

Jack had no weapon but his fists, but with these he sprang to meet the savage, blue-kilted figure. Taking advantage of his longer reach, he let fly with his right fist. The Kachin was clearly no boxer, for though he raised his left arm, Jack's fist went straight through the feeble guard and landed full between his opponent's eyes. This shook the Kachin so much that the vicious knife-thrust he launched went wide of its mark, and at the next moment Jack closed with him and tried to wrench the knife from his grasp.

But though the Kachin was no boxer, he was a wrestler of uncommon power and skill, and Jack felt the little man seize upon him with an iron clutch. To and fro they swung on the horrible, dizzying edge, each straining every nerve and muscle to free himself from his enemy's clutch and fling his opponent into the torrent which roared and foamed far below.

Locked in this clinging embrace, they stumbled and fell headlong, still bound together by that straining clutch. They were now actually hanging with heads over the brink of the gulf, and the uproar of the rushing waters below sounded loud in Jack's ears. Suddenly he felt that they were both going over, slowly but steadily. The Kachin was no longer trying to master his foe. So that his enemy went, he was willing to fall with him. He was now driving his heels into the roadway, and, with all the force of the iron muscles packed in his compact body, was trying to force himself and Jack over the brink.

Before Jack had mastered his meaning, the pair were head and shoulders clear of the last beam, and the Kachin was working his way outwards and downwards, inch by inch. Jack made a terrific effort and hurled himself backwards. He gained a few of the lost inches, and felt his shoulders against the edge of the beam. Getting a purchase, he strove to raise himself and fling the Kachin off. In vain. The arms were closed around him in a powerful grip, the savage face within a few inches of his own was working convulsively with hate and rage, and the Kachin now was blind to everything save the desire of destroying the white man.

Another twist and turn in the desperate life-and-death wrestle, and Jack's face was turned towards the opposite side of the gulf. But this was only to show him that a new danger hung over him with fearful menace. He looked straight down a gun-barrel. On the farther brink knelt one of his enemies, a long-barrelled muzzle-loader in his hands. He was leaning across with the evident purpose of firing a heavy iron bullet into Jack's brain. Yet, though beset with death on every hand, Jack struggled on gamely.



CHAPTER XXXVII.

HOW THEY MADE A ROPE.

"He may miss," muttered the plucky English lad to himself. "Anyhow, I'm not going to let this chap chuck me over here if I can help it."

At this moment an unexpected diversion was made in his favour. The native woman had crouched stolidly in rear of the combat, until she saw the Kachin about to empty his weapon into his English foe. Now she rose swiftly to her feet, a heavy stone in her right hand. Just as the Kachin was crooking his finger on the trigger she hurled it with all her force.

It proved the luckiest of shots. The missile struck the stooping man square on the top of his head and caused him to start violently. As he did so the jet of smoke and flame spurted from the long barrel and the bullet sped. But not in the direction he had intended. The muzzle of the piece was jerked a foot aside, and the wrestler received the charge full in his body. He gave a convulsive start, then his arm fell limp, and Jack was free.

Up he sprang, aflame to see what was happening with his father and Me Dain. Long as his own struggle had seemed, it had only been a matter of seconds, and Mr. Haydon and the fourth Kachin were still engaged in fierce sword play. Me Dain and the third man had closed in savage wrestle, and were trying to find each other's heart with their knives.

Jack whipped up the bar with the speed of thought, and dropped it on the head of the man with whom his father was engaged. Down went the Kachin, stunned and helpless. But at that very instant a wild scream went up from the two struggling figures close at hand. Jack turned his head to see the last flutter of their garments. The rotten foothold had given way beneath them, and, held fast in each other's clutch, they had fallen headlong into the deeps below. Jack and his father were about to leap forward to see the last of their faithful guide, when a musket cracked and a bullet flew by their heads. They sprang back into cover and looked at each other.

"We have lost Me Dain!" cried Jack. "Brave fellow, he has gone, fighting to the last."

Mr. Haydon nodded gloomily. "It is a cruel, bad business for all of us," he said.

A profound silence now fell upon the little battlefield. The remaining Kachins made no further attempt at an assault. Jack peered out very cautiously to see what they were doing, and was surprised to see them drawing off. His father joined him, and they watched the mountaineers retire to the point where the shelf-road began. Here they squatted on the ground, lighted their pipes, and calmly smoked, motionless as the rocks around them.

"There are two short," said Jack, after counting them.

"Yes," returned his father, "they have been despatched for reinforcements, and to give word that we have been discovered. Their friends are on guard."

At this moment the Kachin whom Jack had felled with the bar began to move. Jack was upon him in a moment, whipping off his girdle, and tying him hand and foot with stout strips of it. Mr. Haydon now began to talk with the native woman. As a rule he had preferred to speak with her through Me Dain, for her dialect contained many words unfamiliar to him. But now Me Dain, their stout-hearted, faithful guide, was gone, and it seemed as if no great interval could elapse before their fate, too, would be settled.

The woman had brought a small store of food with her. She ate, and offered some to her companions. But they would not touch it, though hunger was gnawing keenly at them.

Mr. Haydon sat down with his back against the cliff, but Jack could not keep still. He moved restlessly to and fro on their narrow patch, and glanced into the depths on every side. Was there nothing to be done? Must they wait idly here until their enemies were strong enough to rush them in overwhelming force?

Jack had gone to the farthest point of their refuge, and was lying at full length with his head over the edge of the last beam. He was staring into the wild foaming torrent, when an inequality in the face of the descending cliff caught his eye. He looked intently, and saw that some fifteen feet above the river a narrow ledge ran horizontally along the cliff. He followed the ledge with his eye. It ran down towards the river, narrowed, and disappeared. He raised his head and called his father. Mr. Haydon was by his side in a moment. Jack pointed out the ledge.

"If we could drop on to that," he said, "we might get away up the pass after all."

"I'm afraid there's not much of a chance there," returned his father. "The ledge shelves away to the river. But in any case, how are we going to descend a precipice as smooth as glass? It's a good five-and-thirty feet down to that point."

Jack bit his lip in perplexity for a moment. Then his brow cleared, as a sudden idea slipped into his mind.

"We'll make a rope," he said. "There's stout stuff in these fellows' kilts and jackets," and he pointed to the Kachins lying near at hand.

Mr. Haydon slapped his son on the shoulder. "Good for you, Jack, my boy!" he cried. "We'll have a try at it."

He spoke a few words to the native woman, and she laid her child down and sprang at once to help. She proved by far the deftest and cleverest of the three at the task now to be performed. Jack and his father quickly stripped off belt, jacket, girdle, and turban from the fallen Kachins, and their clothes were tossed over to the woman. With a small, sharp knife which she produced from the little basket in which she had carried her food, she swiftly cut up kilts and jackets, while the other two knotted together turbans and girdles. Half an hour's hard work saw the heap of clothing converted into a stout, well-knotted rope. Jack took a glance at the men on guard. They were still seated at the end of the shelf-road, smoking calmly, and confident that their prey could not escape them. Jack now tied a heavy stone at the end of the rope and let it down. The stone slid along the face of the precipice and rested on the ledge. Nine or ten feet of their rope were still unpaid out.

"Plenty long enough," said Jack, and they hauled the rope up quickly.

The woman and her child were, of course, sent down first. With a broad strip of the strong home-spun the child was bound on its mother's breast, so that she might at least have one hand free to hold herself steady as she was lowered. At the end of the rope they made a broad loop, and this was drawn tight about her body. When all was ready, she slipped over the edge of the abyss with all the coolness and bravery of her race, and the strong hands began to lower her. Foot by foot she slid down the face of the cliff, and at last those above felt the strain upon their muscles suddenly relieved. The woman was safely on the ledge.

They now made the rope secure around the outer beam, which, luckily, was fairly sound. The Kachin who was their prisoner was shouting and yelling at the full pitch of his voice to warn his comrades that the fugitives were escaping. His dark eyes snapped and glittered with fury. He cared not what danger he brought upon himself if he could but warn his friends. Jack and Mr. Haydon took no notice whatever of the man's clamour. A hundred voices would have been drowned in the hoarse roar of the torrent which thundered below.

"I'll go down now, father," said Jack, "and hold the rope steady for you." He slipped over the side and was gone. Hand below hand he swung himself swiftly down the rope, and was on the ledge in a few moments. He held the rope steady, and Mr. Haydon descended in safety.

They left the rope where it hung, and crept forward along the narrow ledge. Jack led the way, the woman came next, and Mr. Haydon brought up the rear. There was very little room on the ledge, but it was sound and smooth. It had clearly been made by the river eating away the softer rock in times of flood. It descended gently towards the stream, and within thirty yards it broke short off. The river was now not more than five feet below, and Jack bent and looked into it. Then he swung himself off the ledge, and dropped into the stream with a cry of delight. It was clear and shallow, and he stood in it barely knee-deep. He helped the woman down, his father sprang after them, and they all waded on in a shallow backwater, where the furious torrent of the main stream died away to an easy flow.

Moving on in this manner, they gained the farther side of the ravine, which had been spanned by the shelf-road. Here a vast mass of rock and boulders lay piled along the cliff wall.

"That's the landslip which carried away the road," said Mr. Haydon.

Jack eyed it critically.

"We can get up into the pass again by it," he said. "It'll be a rough climb, but we can do it."

Jack was right. They did it. It took them an hour's hard climbing, but at last they stood at the point where the shelf-road had joined the main path along the pass. Here they rested awhile, for the steep climb under a burning sun had been very exhausting.

Then Jack sprang to his feet "Come on," he cried cheerily. "We'll hit on Buck and Jim's camp yet, and with them at our back we'll stand off U Saw and his men easily enough."

"I think I can strike towards it all right once we clear this path," said his father. Mr. Haydon had had much talk with Me Dain about the spot where he had left Buck and Jim, and he believed that he could find the place.

"Poor old Me Dain," said Jack, in a tone of bitter sorrow; "if we'd only brought him up with us out of the fix there, it would have been all right. He was a fine, brave chap."

"He was," said Mr. Haydon; "it is a terrible loss to us that he has gone."

They pushed on in silence, thinking of the good, faithful Burman who had fallen, close-grappled with his enemy, into the raging torrent. From this sad reverie they were roused by the voice of the native woman speaking to Mr. Haydon.

"She says that we shall soon be out in the open country," said he to his son.

"Good business!" replied Jack. "As long as we are between these walls of rock, there seems a trap-like feeling about the affair."

Ten minutes later they crossed a low ridge, and at once the precipice which had encompassed them opened out swiftly on either hand. Before them lay a huge, cup-like hollow, filled with buildings.

"A town!" gasped Jack. "We shall be seen!"

"Deserted, my boy," said his father quietly. The more experienced eye had at once seen the true nature of the place. Jack looked again, and saw that all was silent, and that the buildings were empty shells. The walls of the houses stood up along the streets, the vane of a pagoda darted aloft and glittered in the sun, but no form moved along the narrow ways, no face peered out upon them as they passed.

Their way lay along what had been the main street of the city, and the silence, which had been pleasant in the pass, became strange and creepy here. It told of utter ruin, and seized upon the spirit of those who passed with a sense of haunting desolation.

Suddenly, into this eerie silence, there broke a sound which set every heart leaping. It was the swift rattle of a pony's hoofs galloping towards them. The sound had broken out sharply and near, for the main street was paved, and the rider had burst on to it from the sandy track beyond, where he had ridden in silence. They could not see the rider, for the way bent sharply just before them, and their only thought was to hide from this newcomer, for to be seen by anyone in this country spelled danger.

Close at hand was a narrow alley, and into this they hurried. Just inside the opening was an empty doorway, and they ran through it, and paused inside a house which turned a blank wall to the street A huge crack seamed this wall from top to bottom, and Jack, springing forward softly, clapped his eye to it.

The wall stood at an angle to the street, and the rider darted into sight as Jack peered out. The latter turned and shot a single whisper over his shoulder, "Danger," and all stood silent.



CHAPTER XXXVIII.

IN THE DESERTED CITY.

Jack had known the rider at once. It was the tall Malay, the Strangler. He was mounted on a nimble pony, and flogging it to its utmost speed. A few yards from the house the pony slipped on the smooth stones and nearly came down. This, perforce, checked its headlong career, and the Malay drew it in to a walk. Everyone held their breath, and Jack watched the dark, sinister figure pace by, wishing that his furious speed had not been interrupted.

He was past, he was gone, and Jack breathed more freely. Then, oh, unhappy turn of luck, the infant in its mother's arms stirred and gave a feeble cry.

The mother hushed it at once, and the fugitives looked at each other aghast. Had that cry been heard? The answer came at once. They heard the pony swiftly wheeled on the stones without. A second later it dashed back the way it had come, the Malay flogging fiercely, reckless of slips or stumbles.

"It was U Saw's man, that big Malay," said Jack to his father. "What shall we do?"

"We must push on and see what lies beyond the town," said Mr. Haydon. "It is clear that he suspects something. All depends now on whether our line into the open country is blocked."

The little party swiftly sped up the farther part of the alley, and worked their way through the town by the narrow lanes which threaded the mass of buildings like runs in a rabbit warren. Through these by-ways the native woman proved a sure guide, and soon, through a gap, they saw the open, sandy waste which lay around the deserted town.

From the last patch of cover they looked out cautiously and saw a dismal sight. The town, as has been said, lay in a great cup-like depression. On the rim of the farther rise, straight in their path, a horseman sat motionless. Jack knew him again at once. It was the Malay. He had drawn up his pony on the ridge above the town, and now sat there, watching intently, a dark figure on the sky-line.

"We are beset front and rear," groaned Mr. Haydon. "He is waiting for companions, and watching to see which way we break cover."

Mr. Haydon had hit upon the truth. At earliest dawn skilful trackers had been set upon the trail of the fugitives at the point where Jack had silenced the dog. Thence they had followed them to the mouth of the pass, and had divined their number and the identity of those who made up the party.

U Saw and Saya Chone had been on the scene without loss of time. The Ruby King ordered that a party of his men should march up the pass and pursue the fugitives. He himself, with the half-caste, the Strangler, and a score of other men, all well mounted, had galloped by a long detour to gain the other end of the pass, in hopes of cutting them off. It was a long journey which the mounted party had to make, and they would have failed if Jack and his friends had been able to keep steadily forward. But the long delay on the shelf-road had told heavily against the fugitives, and now, as they suspected, fierce enemies lay between them and the open country.

As the Ruby King and his followers approached the place where the pass ran out on to the plain, the Malay had been sent forward to gallop at breakneck speed down the path the fugitives must follow, and report any sign he could observe of their presence. He had heard the cry of the child, and suspected at once their presence in the deserted city. Now he sat watching the hollow and waiting for his companions.

"Can we dodge back through the city, and slip out on the other side?" said Jack anxiously. His father shook his head.

"The lie of the ground is dead against that," said Mr. Haydon. "The place is built in a cup. Leave it where you may, you must go up open hill-side, and he will see us at once."

"Then we must find a hiding-place among the ruins until nightfall," said Jack.

"That's all there is for it now," replied his father. "If we can keep out of their hands until the dark, we can slip off and travel by the stars."

He told the native woman what had been decided upon, and she nodded. She knew perfectly well what terrible fate awaited her and her child if they fell alive into the merciless hands of U Saw. The little party turned in search of a hiding-place, and their steps were quickened by seeing the figures of half a dozen mounted men rise over the rim of the ridge and join the Strangler.

In a few moments the fugitives had lost all sight of the men without the city; they were swallowed up in the maze of narrow lanes and by-ways which had once been thronged by busy crowds of city folk, and were now given up to the snake, the owl, and the wolf.

Here and there they glided, looking on every hand for some secure hiding-place, but found none; every house, every room seemed open to the sun and the broad light of day.

"Surely among so many houses we should hardly be found, if we lay close in some of these open places," murmured Jack, but Mr. Haydon shook his head.

"They will split up, and every man will take a patch of the city for himself," replied Mr. Haydon. "And they are adepts at a search of this kind."

"Hallo, what's that?" said Jack in a low voice. They paused and listened, then looked at each other. The chase was afoot. They could hear afar off the voices of men shouting to each other as they hunted through the deserted city.

"That sounds as if they were about the main street," said Mr. Haydon.

"Sure to be there first," replied Jack. "They're searching the place where the Malay heard the youngster cry."

"Very true," said the father. "Let's strike towards the pagoda. It lies away from the danger zone, and there may be a chance for us there."

As they hurried towards the tall shaft which shot high above the maze of ruined houses, Mr. Haydon chatted coolly about its possibilities.

"A pagoda, my boy, is often a solid piece of masonry, built above a relic chamber. The latter is a large room of immense strength, and if anything has stood in the place, that is the most likely. If it has stood, and we can find the way in, we may be able to hide till nightfall. In any case, we can make it an awkward job to attack us."

Both father and son had brought a dah from the battle-ground, and at close quarters no better lethal weapon can be found.

They arrived before the pagoda, and Mr. Haydon, leaping on the first platform, ran swiftly to and fro in search of the entrance. His wide knowledge of such buildings guided him to the spot where it would most likely be found, but, as it happened, the entrance was not difficult to find. They saw a low doorway half-blocked by a huge fallen stone, but with ample room left for them to creep in.

"Here's the spot," said Mr. Haydon. "In we go. But," he hesitated for a moment, "we don't know what may be inside. I'd give a trifle for a torch."

"We'll make one," said Jack. "There are heaps of dried sticks and grass about, and I've got some matches."

He put his hand into an inner pocket of his tunic, and pulled out a waterproof metal box half full of vestas.

"Good! good!" ejaculated Mr. Haydon. "I haven't had a match for a long time, and I'd forgotten you might have a few."

He caught up a bundle of dried grass, and Jack took up several sticks, dry and tindery, ready to burst into flame as soon as a light was set to them. All three now crawled through the low, half-blocked doorway. As soon as they crept into the darkness, a strong, fetid, musty smell, mingled with a horrible scent of decay, made the air pungent and choking.

"Some beasts or other here," murmured Mr. Haydon calmly. "Let's see if they're dangerous."

He struck a match and applied it to the great bundle of dried grass which he had collected. The flame ran through it at once, and it flared up strongly. Jack thrust a stick into the blaze, and they now had ample light to see around them.

They found themselves in a large, low room, whose floor was littered with bones and the remains of animals dragged there for food. They darted glances on every side to discover what kind of beast it was whose lair they had entered. But for a moment they saw nothing. There was a movement in a bed of dried reeds in one corner, and presently they saw two pretty little creatures, having the appearance of big cats, bound out and begin to yowl plaintively. At sight of them the native woman gave a shrill scream of terror.

"Tiger cubs!" snapped Mr. Haydon.

He glanced quickly around the place, but there was no sign of any other living creature there save the two cubs, which now began to frisk about the light.

"Lucky for us Mrs. Stripes isn't at home," said Jack, "or it would have been a case of out of the frying-pan into the fire."

"It would," agreed his father. "But it isn't long since she was here," he added. "Here's a fresh kill."

He pointed to a small buck lying almost at their feet. The blood was still wet on the graceful creature's coat, and it was untorn save for the rents made by the huge claws which had brought it down and dragged it to the tiger's lair.

"If this is the only place available," said Mr. Haydon quietly, "we shall have to creep out again. It isn't healthy to ask a tigress to go halves in her den when she's rearing a family."

"We'll have a look round in any case," laughed Jack, and they crossed swiftly to the other side of the place, holding their torches high, so that a red, dancing light was cast before them.

"What's this?" cried Jack, who was a little ahead. "What's this?" He was standing at the foot of a narrow flight of stone steps which ran upwards and was soon lost to sight in the thickness of the wall.

"Up, up!" cried Mr. Haydon. "This is what I hoped for."

The little party climbed the narrow, winding stairs as fast as they could go. Round and round in the wall the steps twisted, and then they saw a dim light ahead, and came out into a second room, as large as the one below. A broken door of teak hung loosely at the narrow opening which led into the room, and Mr. Haydon put his shoulder to it at once.

"Here's our refuge, Jack," he cried joyously.

"Half a minute, father, before you clap that door to," said Jack. "I'm frightfully hungry."

"So am I, ready to drop," returned his father. "What of that?"

"I'm going to fetch that buck up, or a good piece of it," remarked Jack. "It's a fresh kill, and quite sweet."

"I'll come with you," said Mr. Haydon. "Food is priceless at present, for we may well need all our strength."

"No, no," said Jack, "I don't want to brag, father, but I can leg it a lot quicker than you if the old lady comes home suddenly."

"Very likely," said his father. "I don't doubt that for an instant, Jack, but I'll come all the same." They lighted a couple of fresh torches and went quickly down the steps and across the room below. They found the tiger cubs, drawn by the scent of blood, playing with the new kill, trying to fix their baby fangs into it, and leaping to and fro like a couple of kittens.

"Clear off," said Jack, thrusting one of them aside with his foot, "we want this."

The buck was only a young one, not more than forty or fifty pounds' weight, and Jack swung it up from the ground by its horns. As he drew it away from them, both cubs gave a loud cry of complaint. Their cry was answered upon the instant by a frightful roar, and turning their heads, the two men saw a long, low, huge form gliding in at the opening with lightning speed.



CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE SECRET CHAMBER.

"Shout, shout!" cried Mr. Haydon, and the two yelled at the top of their voices and waved their torches as they ran for the steps. But neither the noise nor the fire saved them. They owed their safety to the cubs. These ran at once to their mother, and the fierce creature stayed a moment to lick and fondle them and assure herself of their safety.

Jack and his father used the respite to full advantage. They tore up the steps and hurled themselves into the room above. Mr. Haydon and the woman pushed the broken door into place before the opening and held it, fearing a rush from the great savage beast But the tigress made no charge. They heard her prowling about the foot of the steps below, and growling horribly, but she made no attempt to pursue them farther, and presently her fierce notes of anger died away.

"She has gone back to the cubs," said Mr. Haydon with a deep breath of relief. "That was a close shave, Jack. If she'd come straight at us instead of staying beside them for an instant, it would have been all up with us."

"We could have had a chop at her with a dah," said Jack. Mr. Haydon shook his head grimly.

"Not good enough to tackle a charging tigress," he said. "Might as well chop at a hurricane."

"Well," said Jack, "a miss is as good as a mile; and anyhow, we've landed the buck."

Jack had hung on to their quarry like grim death, and the buck now lay on the floor at their feet. But before they satisfied their hunger, they looked carefully around the place in which they found themselves. Like the vault below, the room was large and low, and it was lighted by a number of small apertures on two sides. They approached these little holes, and found that none was of greater size than to admit of a fist being thrust through them. Mr. Haydon looked carefully at them. "These holes," said he, "are hidden among the ornaments and carving of the exterior. The room below is in the base of the pagoda. This room is built in the second of the three terraces known as Pichayas. Above us the pagoda is solid right away to the vane."

"We're in a queer fix now," said Jack. "Mrs. Stripes below is very useful to keep out U Saw and his friends, but she'll keep us in as well. It will be an awkward job to slide out after dark and take the chance of blundering into her with claws and fangs ready for business."

"Yes," replied his father, "it cuts both ways."

"Well, we won't worry about it now," said Jack. "Let's have something to eat. Here's plenty of meat, but how shall we cook it?"

It would have been easy to make a fire, for the remains of a couple of large chests lay in one corner, but smoke curling from the holes would betray their hiding-place.

"We'll make some biltong, as I've done many and many a time in South Africa," said Mr. Haydon. "In this sun the meat will parch very quickly."

He cut some long and very thin slices from the leg of the buck. Then he thrust them through one of the holes which lay towards the sun, and spread them on the flat stone outside. The stone was burning hot, so hot that the hand could not be borne upon it, for the sun had been beating there with immense power for many hours. Between the fiery sun and the hot stone, the meat parched swiftly, and ere long they were satisfying their ravenous hunger with the excellent venison. They offered some to the native woman, but she preferred to eat from her own stock of food.

"I wonder why this city was deserted," said Jack, as he devoured his venison.

"War, pestilence, or famine," replied his father briefly. "I'll pump this woman and see how the local tradition runs."

He conversed with her for some time, then turned to his son.

"I can begin as I used to begin stories when you were a nipper," said Mr. Haydon. "Once upon a time there was a great king."

"How long ago?" queried Jack.

"Goodness knows," said his father. "Time is a mere blur in these old stories. A hundred, two hundred, five hundred years, all are one to a people who keep no written records. Well, a great king ruled here over a busy and wealthy people. He built this pagoda and was immensely proud of it He delighted to deck it with gold and precious stones. She says that once the whole of the exterior was covered with plates of solid gold, and the Hti, the umbrella, that is the topmost stage of the pagoda, was hung with thousands of golden and silver bells, and decked with huge rubies and other precious stones. Most of these didn't belong to him. For he had a habit of marching upon neighbouring rulers and stripping their treasuries to brighten up his pagoda.

"At last the usual thing happened. A better fighting man came along and stripped him. He and his people fought well, but in the end they were overcome and the whole city was put to the sword. The conqueror had the plates of gold and a vast number of rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. But many of the finest rubies slipped out of his grasp. The priests fled and carried them off. Since that day the city has been a desert. And so you have the legend."

"Is it true, do you think?" asked Jack.

"Substantially true, without a doubt," replied his father. "The thing has happened again and again. It might easily happen to-day in Burmah itself, were it not for the British Raj. These local rulers were forever cutting each other's throats."

At this point the low murmur of his voice became mingled with a louder noise without. The sound of busy Kachin tongues in full flow came through the tiny apertures which lighted the room, and Jack and his father sprang to their feet.

"The enemy have arrived," murmured Jack, and his father nodded. They stole swiftly across the room and peered through the little apertures which lighted the place. No better spying-place could be needed. They looked straight into the broad open space before the pagoda, and saw their pursuers defiling from a narrow street. One man was mounted, and they knew him at once for U Saw, the great ruby in his head-dress glinting scarlet fire in the rays of the sun. At the tail of his horse strode the Strangler, and a dozen busy little blue-kilted figures ran hither and thither, chattering and calling to each other, and searching eagerly for traces of the fugitives.

A loud shout presently told the Haydons that something had been discovered. Half a dozen Kachins began to yell together, and Mr. Haydon listened intently.

"They've found the hole," he murmured coolly. "What next?"

"It's very lucky for us that Mrs. Stripes is at home and on guard," said Jack. "We could hold them in the narrow stairs there with our dahs, but she'll do the job much better."

"Yes, for a time, without doubt," replied his father, shaking his head. "But these chaps are splendid little shikarees, and fear nothing that stands on four legs."

They could not see the group of Kachins which had gathered before the opening, but they saw the Ruby King wave his hand, and knew that the blue-kilts had been ordered to explore. They listened breathlessly, but, for some moments, all was silence. Then in the vault below there broke out a frightful roar of anger, and mingled with it came yells and outcries. The two watchers looked eagerly from their apertures, and saw the Kachins recoiling in a disorderly body, carrying among them a man whose legs dragged along the ground.

"Looks as if she'd settled one of them," remarked Mr. Haydon. It was soon apparent that the tigress had thinned by one the number of their enemies. The man was laid down in the open space, and his fellows gathered about him. But very soon they left the body lying where it had been placed, and collected about the Ruby King in a chattering crowd.

"Clearly the man is dead," said Jack. "They do not attempt to do anything for him."

"I should say she smashed his skull in, by the look of things from this distance," remarked his father. "See how the blood spreads in a pool about his head!"

Their eyes were fixed on the debating crowd, and they were wondering what the next move of the Kachins would be, when they heard a low call behind them. Both whirled round at once, and saw that it was their companion who was attracting their attention. She was kneeling on the floor, and they ran to her at once. She knelt beside a large stone which was sunk three or four inches below its fellows and shook easily under the touch.

"This is strange," said Jack. "We dried our meat and ate our meal just about here, and the stone was not out of its place then."

"Perhaps our movements loosened it," replied his father. He spoke with the native woman for a little, then turned to his son. "It sank a moment back when she stepped on it," he said. "Just when she cried out. She feared she was going to fall through the floor."

Jack knelt down and pressed heavily on the stone. It slid away from his hands, and, had he not grasped the edge of the hole quickly, he would have rolled after it The stone vanished, and was heard to land with a heavy ringing crash on stone below.

"By Jove, I nearly went head first after it," said Jack. "It was as loose as possible. Where does this lead to?"

Mr. Haydon knelt down and looked carefully around the sides of the square hole left in the floor.

"It's a secret entrance to some place or other," he said. "See, Jack, the wooden bar on which this stone worked. It has rotted through, and the stone held its place, as you may say, by clinging to the neighbouring stones. But a slight weight was sufficient to start it moving."

"What's underneath, I wonder?" murmured Jack.

"Some chamber built in the thickness of the floor between this room and the vault below," replied his father.

"We ought to have a look into this," remarked Jack.

"We will," said his father; "but I hardly see how it will avail us. There might be a chance to make it useful if we could get the stone into place, but it is very heavy, and the machinery on which it worked has rotted away."

Jack took a half-burned torch, whose flare had been quenched upon their regaining the room from the raid in which they had secured the buck, and relighted it. He held it as far into the darkness as he could, and the red light showed that a ladder, built of heavy beams of teak, ran downwards from the edge of the hole. Mr. Haydon sniffed cautiously. "The air doesn't smell bad," he remarked; "close and musty, but no mephitic vapours. I think we'll go down."

Jack swung himself over the lip of the hole, dropped his feet on the stout ladder, and went down first, holding the torch before him, and his father followed. They found themselves in a low room of fair size, but not one-half as large as that above and below.

"What's that?" said Jack, and pointed to the far corner, where something gleamed white. They crossed to it, and stood before a knot of skeletons. Nine they counted, each lying as the dead man had fallen long, long ago. In the houses of the city, where roofs had fallen in, where wild beasts had devoured the flesh, and where sun and rain and wind had worked their will upon the bones, all trace of the citizens of that long bygone day had utterly disappeared, but here, where the secret chamber had protected their remains, the skeletons were perfect.

"These are some of the men who fell in the sack of the city," said Jack.

His father bent and carefully examined them by the light of the torch.

"I scarcely think so, Jack," he said. "The bones are perfect and bear no sign of injury. It is more likely that they were priests of the pagoda who took refuge here, and perhaps died of famine, not daring to leave their hiding-place."

Jack moved a little, and started. In his new position a ray of red fire darted at him from one of the heaps of white bones. He stepped forward, bent, and picked up the glittering object.

"Look here," he said to his father, "this is something in your line, if I'm not very much mistaken."

His father turned it over, rubbed the dirt off it, and held it up to the light. It lay in his palm and winked in the light of the torch with dancing gleams of deep scarlet fire.

"Whew!" whistled Mr. Haydon, "a magnificent ruby, large, and of the purest water. Where did you get it, my boy?"

Jack pointed to the skeleton at his feet, among whose bones it had lain.

"Could this have been their secret treasure-room?" said Mr. Haydon, looking round. "Yet it is very unlikely. It is too large, and hardly in the place where they would have built it."

At this moment they heard a murmur at their shoulders. The woman had followed them, and they turned to see that she had picked up a couple of rubies from among the bones of another skeleton, and was holding them out to Mr. Haydon.

The great expert took them and examined them swiftly.

"Finer than the one you found in point of size," he said to his son. "As to purity, they are all of the highest quality. These three stones in my palm represent a substantial fortune."

Jack had never before seen such magnificent stones. He gazed in wonder at the three gleaming splendours, and turned them over with his finger.

"They are true oriental rubies," said his father, "of the finest colour and without flaw. Any one of them is ten times as valuable as a diamond of the same weight."

The native woman was turning over the bones of another skeleton. She straightened herself, came forward, and dropped another noble ruby into Mr. Haydon's hand.

"Jack, Jack," cried the latter to his son, "don't you see what this means, my boy? Here is proof positive of the truth of the legend."

"I see," said Jack, "these are the monks who were said to have fled with the pick of the rubies."

"These are they without a doubt," said his father. "They disappeared, and the conquerors believed that they had escaped, and so the story of their flight was worked into the tradition. But they had hidden themselves here, and here they died. The rubies were shared among them, and concealed in their garments. The ants have made short work of the robes long since, and the stones have fallen among the bones."

"Then among these skeletons lie the chief treasures of the ancient city?" said Jack.

"The thing is beyond all question," replied his father. "These glorious stones bear ample witness."

The intense interest of this marvellous find had almost driven the thought of their enemies from their minds. But the recollection of their deadly peril came back in full flood when a hoarse thunder broke out beneath their feet in the lower vault.

"The tigress!" cried Jack. "Is it a fresh assault?"

Not another thought did they give to the gleaming treasures within their grasp. Life was worth a mountain of rubies.

They rushed at once to see what U Saw and his retainers were doing. Mr. Haydon did not even pocket the rubies, such was his haste. He tossed them aside among the mouldering bones, where they had lain for so many generations, and flew after his son, who was already climbing the ladder.

They raced across the room, and now heard the savage roars of the tigress pealing louder and louder up the narrow stairway. In the vault below they heard shots and yells.

"They have attacked her in her lair, there is no doubt of it," said Mr. Haydon in a tone of deep anxiety. "They have without doubt flung torches in to light the place up, and shot her as she stood before her cubs, checking her charge with fire, noise, and spears. I have known a band of them take as desperate a risk for the sake of a mere skin to sell, so they would certainly take it to seize us."

The growls of the tigress became more furious and deafening.

"They are running out!" cried Jack. "They are flying before her."

In the open space below, the Kachins were running swiftly from the entrance to the vault. Some looked over their shoulders, as if fearing pursuit.

"Very possibly," said his father. "They are running for the moment, but I fear they have done their work. See how joyous they look!"

This was quite true. The dark faces of the little mountaineers were bright with smiles, and their teeth flashed white as they grinned at each other, and shouted as if in triumph.

"Their muskets at close range are not to be despised," murmured Mr. Haydon uneasily. "They fling a heavy ball, and drive it with great smashing power. And again, the bullets may be poisoned. They often are."

The Kachins did not run far. They faced about, and three or four who were armed with spears threw their weapons forward, ready to receive the charge of the wounded creature. But no charge was made. Had the tigress been alone, she would have rushed out, but the presence of her cubs made a great difference. She stayed beside them, growling and roaring with rage and pain until the very building shook.

Half an hour passed, and the tigress was now making no more than a low moan. Little by little her growling had died away. The Haydons heard the sound diminish with uneasy hearts. They knew that the strength of the great fierce beast was going with it, and that very soon the Kachins would be at the foot of the stairs.

They talked the situation over, and looked at it from every point of view, but could see only one thing to do. That was to wait for the enemy on the narrow winding steps, where but one could pass at a time, and hold them at bay.

Jack looked round. "Where's the woman?" he said, "she has not come up."

"No more she hasn't," said his father. They had been so deeply engaged in watching every movement of their enemies that they had utterly forgotten their companion. When Jack rushed up from the secret chamber, he had thrust the flaring torch into her hand, in order that she might follow at her leisure, but there was no sign of her in the room behind them.

Jack ran across to the spot where the square black hole yawned in the floor.

"It's all dark down here," he cried in surprise. "Has the torch gone out? But why has she not come up?"

Near at hand lay a large lock of dried grass, part of a bundle which the woman herself had gathered and brought up on their first entrance.

Jack caught it up, struck a match, and thrust the burning vesta into it. In an instant the tuft of grass was ablaze, and he flung it into the secret chamber. It dropped to the floor, and the flame shot up brightly, lighting the little room from corner to corner, from roof to floor.

"She's gone!" gasped Jack in utter amazement "She's gone!" Save for the skeletons, the little room was completely empty. There was not the faintest sign of the native woman. She had disappeared absolutely and entirely.



CHAPTER XL.

THE BATTLE ON THE STAIRS.

Jack was about to spring down the ladder and see what had become of their companion, when a low cry of warning burst from his father's lips. The elder man had been watching the enemy, and now he called out, "They are coming! they are coming!"

Jack caught up his dah and ran at once for the stairs. The mystery of the woman's disappearance must wait; the first thing to be done was to keep the Kachins from their throats.

He and his father had already settled upon the point which they would occupy for defence. Halfway down the narrow winding flight there was a small landing, about six feet long, with a sharp turn above and below. Jack felt his way down to this in the darkness, then stood and listened eagerly for any sounds of movement in the vault below. He heard his father softly tiptoeing after him, and then all was silence, save for the mournful cries of the tiger cubs trying to rouse their dead dam.

"They have not come in yet," whispered Jack to his father.

"No," replied Mr. Haydon, "but I saw seven of them start across the open space, clearly bent on a fresh attack."

At this moment a muffled sound of voices rang through the vault and came up the narrow stairs. The Kachins were at the entrance. Then there was silence for a short time. The next sound was a joyous yell, which rang and re-echoed from wall to wall. The Kachins had discovered the dead tigress. Then the vault resounded with voices as they ran to and fro, searching every corner.

The fugitives knew that the flight of steps running upwards must be discovered at once, and Mr. Haydon gave a low murmur as they heard a party of searchers gather at the foot of the stairs. Up to this moment Jack and his father had stood in complete darkness, but now a faint glimmer of light began to shine up from below, and they knew that the flare of their pursuers' torches was being reflected along the winding walls.

The preparations of the savage little men in blue were quickly made, and up they came. As Jack heard their feet shuffle swiftly up the steps, and saw the shine of the torches become brighter and brighter, he poised his heavy blade and prepared to launch a swinging blow. Nearer, nearer came the light and the chattering voices, for they talked as they came. Then a gleaming spear-head flashed round the bend below. It was held by the leading Kachin, and the second man carried a torch to light his comrade's way.

Jack drew aside to the wall, and waited for the man's head to appear. In an instant it came, and the dark face and glittering eyes of the mountaineer were filled with excitement as he saw the white men within arm's length. He shortened his grasp of the spear to strike at Jack, but the broad, gleaming dah fell at that very instant with tremendous force.

The Kachin whirled up the spear to guard his head, but the trenchant blade, wielded by those powerful young arms, was not to be denied. It shore clean through the stout shaft of the spear, it fell upon the shoulder of the Kachin, and clove him to the spine. He pitched backwards among those following, and the torch was dashed from its bearer's hand. But it was caught as it fell, and another of the dauntless little men sprang up to cross swords with the defender who could strike so dreadful a blow.

Again Jack launched a sweeping cut at his assailant, but this time his blade was caught upon a blade of equal strength and temper, and the iron muscles of the wiry Kachin turned the slashing stroke. He fetched a swift return blow at Jack, and the latter avoided this by springing a pace backwards as he recovered his own weapon.

The little man followed with the leap of a cat, and gave a grunt of satisfaction. This was his aim, to make ground, and Jack saw it in an instant. It allowed another man to come round the turn and support the assault with a long spear. The second Kachin was crouching low, and at the next moment the shining head of a spear darted past the first assailant and was directed at Jack's thigh. Jack avoided it by a miracle. He did not see it, did not know the man had struck at him, for he was too busy cutting and parrying with the leader. But as the spear-head was darted at him, he sprang aside to avoid the dah, and so dodged both sword and spear.

The Kachin with the spear had made his stroke so heartily, and with such certainty of reaching his mark, that on missing his blow he sprawled forward. Mr. Haydon bent down, gripped the strong shaft behind the spear-head, and tore the weapon from the baffled Kachin's grasp. Then, with a growl of satisfaction that he could take a share in the fray, he reversed the long weapon, and swung its keen point forward.

The spear came to his hand at a most opportune moment. A third man was creeping on hands and knees beside the wall, aiming to pass his leader. He gripped a huge knife in his hand. In another instant he would have seized Jack by the ankles and dragged him down, had not Mr. Haydon driven the spear into him with such force that the head was completely buried in his body. He dropped to the floor with a frightful yell, and at that moment the leading Kachin gave way and leapt back among his friends. Jack had half cut through the swordman's right arm, and the latter could no longer wield the heavy dah.

"Come back a few steps, Jack!" cried his father. "They are meeting us on the flat, and that is to their advantage."

Father and son darted up half a dozen steps from the landing, gained the sharp turn above, then faced about again. But no Kachin was following them. The little men chattered and yelled, argued and disputed with each other, but did not advance. Finally, they retired to the vault below, taking their fallen with them.

"First round to us," breathed Jack. "How strange they brought no muskets with them! My dread from first to last was of a bullet being loosed into us."

"I observed as they crossed towards the door that they carried only spears and swords," said his father. "That is U Saw. He wishes to take us alive, wounded, perhaps, but still alive. So he forbade shooting."

"What next?" murmured Jack.

"I wish we knew," replied his father, "then we might be prepared for it." But no preparation within their power could have availed against the cunning of the next assault. They had been watching and waiting half an hour or more in the darkness, when again the red shine of fire began to glow on the walls below them.

"What is this?" muttered Mr. Haydon. "This light is far too strong for torches." And now with the gleam of fire came gusts of heat sweeping up to them, and clouds of thick pungent smoke. Half choked, and with smarting eyes, they watched for the fire to appear. Presently they saw it below them, and saw that a furnace of leaping flame was advancing towards them, flame which filled the whole of the space, licking walls, roof, and floor. They watched it with horrified eyes. It was impossible to meet this subtle and dreadful enemy with spear or dah.

"What is it?" cried Jack.

"A cunning trick, a cruelly cunning trick," replied his father. "They are thrusting great burning bundles of dried reeds and grass before them. The draught comes up the stairs and keeps the air cool and sweet for them, while it drives suffocating smoke and heat upon us."

Jack ground his teeth as he saw how perfectly the plan was calculated to drive them out of the staircase into the open room above, where the numbers of the Kachins could be used to deadly purpose.

"The fire is flagging," gasped Jack.

"For the moment, yes," said his father.

The glowing mass of flames wavered and began to sink. Then they saw how it was fed. A huge bundle of dried canes and reeds on the end of a spear was thrust into the flickering glow, and at once took fire and burned with the utmost fury. Fresh bundles were pushed forward beside it, and these, too, flared up with a shrill crackle of snapping canes and the roar of a fire fanned by a strong draught. Inch by inch the flames moved forward, themselves a terrible enemy, and behind them crept up and up a savage and merciless foe.



CHAPTER XLI.

THE SECRET PASSAGE.

Within that confined space, the heat became that of a fiery furnace, the pungent smoke became overpowering.

"We must get back or we shall be overcome," gasped Mr. Haydon, and they climbed the steep steps of stone.

"Who's here?" snapped Mr. Haydon, as they turned the last bend. Jack looked under his father's arm.

"It's the woman," he gasped, for the pungent smoke had almost stopped his breath. "She's come back. Where has she been?"

Now the woman's voice came to them calling earnestly, "Sahib, sahib, sahib!" she cried.

Jack and his father leapt into the room, where the wider space, though dim with smoke, made the air taste wonderfully fresh and sweet after the choking passage.

The woman at once sprang at Mr. Haydon and seized his arm, talking earnestly. As she spoke, the elder man's face lighted up with a great hope.

"Jack! Jack!" he cried. "Come on! come on! Here's a wonderful chance turned up."

Jack asked no questions. He only followed as the other two hurried for the hole which led to the secret chamber. The woman went swiftly down the teak ladder, and the other two followed. At the foot of the ladder a torch, freshly lighted, was thrust into a wide crack between two stones, and stood there burning steadily. The woman caught it up and led the way. They passed the heap of skeletons, and went to the far corner, where a very low, small door stood open. It had been closed when Jack looked into the chamber, and so he had been able to gain no idea of the fashion in which the woman had left the place.

The woman shot through the opening, and the light of her torch showed that she had entered a low tunnel not more than four feet in height and about the same in width.

"Duck your head down and come on," said Mr. Haydon, and Jack brought up the rear in the march along this tiny passage, where he had almost to scramble on hands and knees.

"What is this?" he called to his father, as the latter scrambled ahead of him.

"This," said Mr. Haydon, "explains the secret chamber. It is a passage by which the priests could enter or leave the pagoda without the knowledge of worshippers. The secret chamber was merely its ante-room, as one may say."

"How did the woman hit on it?" asked Jack.

"Looked round the place and saw the door and found it would open easily. She crept along the passage till she saw daylight, then she returned to give us the word."

"Good for her!" said Jack. "She's a first-rate sort. But I wonder how long it will be before those little ferrets behind are after us. They'll come along here in double-quick time."

"We've got a fair start," replied his father. "They'll come up the steps very slowly, having to push the fire before them."

They had gone fifty or sixty yards along the tunnel, when the woman looked over her shoulder and spoke to Mr. Haydon.

"We've got to be careful here," said the latter to Jack. "The roof is sagging and hangs very low. We must go through one at a time."

At this moment the woman threw herself on the floor and began to wind her way along like a snake. By the light of her torch Jack saw that the roof threatened at every second to fall in and block the passage. One great stone hung half-released from the grip of its fellows, as if about to topple headlong. The woman went through the tiny space in safety, and then crouched down on the other side and threw the light into the gap to show her companions the road.

"For heaven's sake, be careful how you come through, Jack!" breathed his father. "Don't touch this huge stone for your life. It trembles now, and there isn't thirty inches fairway."

Very slowly and cautiously Mr. Haydon and then Jack wriggled along flat to the ground until the dangerous spot was cleared.

At last all were on the other side, and the woman began once more to hurry forward. Mr. Haydon began to follow her, but Jack sang out, "Half a moment!"

"What for?" cried his father.

"Can't we put a stopper on the pursuit here?" said Jack. "Seems to me we can tumble these wobblers down, and block the route." He pointed to the over-hanging stones.

"Right, right!" called his father. "Where's my sense? I never thought of it."

Mr. Haydon took the torch from the native woman and looked at the roof above his head. "Mustn't fetch too much down," he remarked, "and pin ourselves under the ruin."

"There's no fear of that," replied his son. "Look at the roof over us. It's as sound as a bell. The loose stones come from a flaw in the masonry, not from general decay of the roof."

"I believe you're right, my boy," said Mr. Haydon. "You hold the torch and I'll have a try at it."

Jack took the torch, and Mr. Haydon raised the spear which he had brought with him. He thrust the head into a long crack above the great stone, and bore with all his weight and strength on the extremity of the long shaft. Luckily the latter was very stout and of a tough wood, enabling him to bring a great stress on the big stone.

"Look out!" cried Jack, "it's going, it's going!"

Both of them moved back, as the huge stone toppled swiftly to the ground. It was followed in its fall by a dozen more, and in an instant the path through the tunnel was blocked by a heap of ruins which rose from floor to roof.

"That's all right," said Jack, in a tone of deep satisfaction. "It will take an hour or two to shift those whacking big stones. This tunnel's a case of no thoroughfare at present."

The torch was handed once more to the native woman, and on they went. The next time she paused was to dash the head of the torch against the wall of the tunnel and put out the light. As soon as the red flare had been extinguished, they saw that the beams of day were pouring faintly through branches and brushwood a little before them.

"Ah," said Mr. Haydon, "that's why the air was fairly sweet in the tunnel. There has been a draught through, more or less."

Jack sprang forward, dah in hand, and began to slash at the network of creepers and saplings which blocked the mouth of the tunnel. In a few minutes he had cut a path out, and they crept cautiously forth and looked round to see what place they had gained.

They found themselves in the broad courtyard of a large, ruined house.

"May have been a monastery," said Mr. Haydon. "Now for U Saw and his men. Are we clear of them or not?"

He moved cautiously forward to reconnoitre, Jack following him.

"Where's the pagoda?" murmured Mr. Haydon. "That will give us our bearings."

"I see it through this doorway," said Jack, and pointed to a gap in the wall. Mr. Haydon looked at the pagoda, and noted how it stood with regard to the sun and their present position.

"This is capital," he said. "We've come out on a side opposite to the open space where U Saw is waiting for reports from his men. We can go ahead in safety. He will have men on the watch all round the pagoda, of course. But we've come clean under their feet, and risen to earth amid the ruins behind them."

"I should say our best plan now would be to try to get clear of the city before they push a way through the tunnel," said Jack. "We've certainly got a couple of hours before they find where we came out. Then, very likely, they'll start a fresh search for us among the ruined houses. That would give us a bit more pull in making a flit of it."

"We can't do better," said his father, and the latter spoke a few words to the native woman, who would be by far the best guide to set them on the line they wished to follow. Led by her, they threaded once more the narrow by-ways and lanes tangled with creepers, and sometimes so choked with growth that they had to turn back and choose another way. At last they came to a broken gap in what had once been the city wall, and from it they looked across the bare, bright, open plain.

"There's no one to be seen," murmured Jack, "and if we can once get over the rim of the hill, we shall be out of sight. What is it? Not more than four hundred yards."

They stayed for a few moments longer in shelter of the ruined wall, and looked warily on either hand again and again. But there was not the slightest token of danger to be seen or heard. The sun, now sloping to the west, shone brilliantly upon the open space of stones and sand, stones too small to hide a spy, and sand too bare of brushwood to afford him an ambush.

"There's a risk, of course, in venturing into the open," murmured Jack. "But there's risk whichever way you take it. We may as well make a dash for it as hang about in the ruins till someone drops on us or on our tracks."

"That's true," agreed his father.

"Come on, then," said Jack in a low voice, and he led the rush across the open.

For the first hundred yards they ran breathlessly. How naked and bare the land seemed around them after the friendly shelter of the narrow lanes and alleys they had just left! Then, as they forged steadily ahead, and the rim of the cup-shaped hollow came nearer at every stride, hope awoke in their hearts and they strained forward, counting on the moment when they would slip over the sky-line, and be lost to sight of the broken walls and towers amid which their enemies sought them.

"See that big white stone," said Jack, who had to draw himself in to an easy trot lest he should outrun his companions, "we have only got to make that, and we're clean out of sight."

Thirty yards from the white stone the woman tripped, stumbled, and fell. Before they left the ruins Jack had wished to carry the child, but she had refused.

"Push ahead, father," called Jack. "I'll pick her up and bring her on."

He sprang to the woman's side, and swung her to her feet by main strength. He glanced back as he did so—he had looked back every few yards as he ran. He gave a mutter of deep satisfaction, "All quiet!" But the words on his lips came to a sudden end in a gasp of dismay and horror. Round a far angle of the ruined wall four horsemen swept into sight at a gentle trot.

For a second Jack stared at them aghast He knew at once what it was. Their enemies had foreseen the possibility of such a bolt from cover as they were now making, and a patrol was on guard about the deserted city.

Jack hurried the woman forward, hoping against hope that no eye would be raised to catch sight of the knot of fugitives on the hill-side. A wild yell raised from four savage throats told him a moment later that his hopes were vain. He glanced back, and saw that the riders had lashed their speedy ponies to a furious gallop and were climbing the slope towards them at terrific speed.

The fugitives exchanged not a word. They ran now in silence, looking on every hand for some way of escape from the horsemen who followed. Jack burned to gain the ridge and see what was beyond. "If it's broken and rocky ground," he thought, "it may prove too rough for their ponies to face."



He looked eagerly out as they gained the ridge, and a bitter exclamation broke from his lips. The ground was more open and easy than that they had just crossed. They still ran on, but now without hope of escape, merely running forward with the instinct of flight which possesses every hunted creature. They heard the ponies' hoofs rattle over the ridge, they heard the thud of the galloping feet close at their backs, they heard the mocking laughs and yells of the triumphant riders.

"I can run no farther, Jack," gasped Mr. Haydon, and pulled up.

Jack whirled round, dah in hand, and stood at bay, his blood on fire to have a stroke at those who hunted them.

The riders were now not more than a score of yards away, and coming on at the same furious speed. Scarce had Jack turned, when the leading horseman was upon him. Jack looked up and saw the tossing mane and fiery eyes of the pony straining to its utmost speed, and above the tossing mane leaned forward the half-caste, his dark eyes shining with savage fire, his mouth widened in a cruel grin. Jack sprang aside and launched a sweeping blow at Saya Chone. The latter, with hand and knee, swung his pony round and hurled the animal full on Jack. The knees of the powerful beast, just rising to the first movement of the gallop, caught the English lad square in the body and dashed him headlong to the ground. Stunned and unconscious, Jack was left in a heap on the sand, while the horsemen encircled the other fugitives.



CHAPTER XLII.

IN THE COURTYARD.

When Jack came to himself after that rough tumble he felt bruised from crown to heel, and his head was aching dully. For a few moments his mind was in a puzzle as returning consciousness began slowly to array before him the last things he remembered. Then he came to himself with a start, and looked round eagerly to see where he was and what had happened to his companions.

The first glance told him that he was once more within the deserted city. He lay in the corner of a ruined house, bound hand and foot; two Kachins, with muskets across their knees, squatted within six feet of him, and watched him with a fixed stare. Over his head the sky was still bright with sunshine, but the low rays told him that the night was not far off.

"They've got us after all," thought Jack bitterly. "We're in their hands as tight as ever, and they'll take care, I know, that we don't slip out of them again."

It was heart-sickening that after their struggle through the pass, their fight in the pagoda, and their escape by a way which seemed to open for them in a magical fashion, that they should end by falling once more into the hands of their cruel foes. As the light faded, Jack lay and wondered what had become of his father and the native woman, and what would be the next turn in their strange and wild adventures.

The sun sank, and the night fell with tropic swiftness; soon he was gazing at a velvety sky, full of bright stars. Still no one came near them, and his guards sat before him like two statues.

An hour after nightfall a voice called to them from the lane without, and they obeyed the command at once. They sprang up, and removed from Jack's ankles the thong which bound them together. Next they dragged him to his feet and led him forward.

At the gap in the wall, where once a door had been, two other guards awaited the prisoner, and marched one before and one behind him. Thus closely watched, Jack was led along the narrow lane. They went fifty yards or more, and then entered the very courtyard into which the secret passage opened. Here a huge fire of brushwood and broken beams was burning, and the place was as light as day, and filled with busy figures. Jack was led across the courtyard and placed near the opposite wall.

He looked round, but could catch no glimpse of his father. He saw the native woman, their companion in misfortune, seated in a corner, a Kachin beside her as if on guard. The woman's head was bent upon her breast, and her child was closely clasped in her arms. She did not look up when Jack was brought in, and her attitude was one of utter dejection. She had already learned her fate. She was to be taken back to the village from which she had fled, and there suffer by fire in the presence of the other villagers. Thus would U Saw teach a lesson of obedience to all.

The Ruby King himself was seated on a rug spread over the stones of the courtyard on the other side of the great fire. A meal was just over. A smaller fire was smouldering near the entrance to the courtyard, and beside it lay cooking-pots and the long, square baskets in which food had been carried. Several of the retainers were still devouring the last fragments of their portion, and the rest were placidly smoking as they moved to and fro. U Saw was quietly pulling at a huge cheroot, his eyes fixed dreamily on the leaping flames of the great fire, and, save for the prisoner and his armed guards, the whole scene had the air of a peaceful camp, of a caravan of merchants resting for a night on their march.