CHAPTER IV.--A CAPTURE

Soon after Burton had left the camp the Doctor received a letter from Professor Muirson in which he said, "The only word on the rubbing you sent me from the last fragment of slab you found means 'Cave,' and I think it should be placed before the words 'of Hydas'; thus you have a reference to the 'Cave of Hydas,' in which there is, or was, something to be carefully guarded."

"Then, putting two and two together, the men who hold Mark a prisoner are either anxious to learn where this Cave of Hydas is, or they know where it is and do not wish any one else to obtain the knowledge," said the Doctor.

"I am inclined to think that Mark is in that very cave at the present moment," said Tom.

"Quite possible. By the way, Tom, tell the natives who are crowding about the camp to continue the search for Mark. Burton wishes it to be kept up for some reason or other," said the Doctor as he went into his tent.

"Hi! Tom; come here a moment," almost immediately shouted the Doctor; and as soon as Tom had joined him he said, "I have just found this—listen: 'I have been asked to say that I am all right, and to advise you to do what my captors have requested you. Your reply is to be written on the blank part of this paper and placed where you put the last. Mark.' There can be no doubt about the writing—it is Mark's, and my mind is greatly relieved," said the Doctor.

"Mark knows one of his captors understands English or he would have written more; he was only allowed to write what he was told," said Tom.

The Doctor at once wrote the following reply: "Mark, you are to tell them that if one of their number will come with you here he may take away any of the stones we have found."

This answer was written with the object of delay until Burton's return; and, as before, the Doctor took the paper to the salt spring, while Tom went to a position where he could watch the goat carry away the message to the boy; and he had not long to wait, for within a couple of hours the boy and his goats appeared and slowly passed the place, and, as they quietly went along from bush to bush cropping the leaves, one took the letter, and in a few minutes the boy had taken it from the goat.

That night, as soon as it was dark, the mysterious Fakir again entered the cave he had examined a couple of nights previously. He lit his lamp as soon as he was inside, and went straight to the far end.

Here he stood for a time and listened; then he flashed his light up the chimney-shaped opening high above him, the top of which extended far beyond the reach of his light; then, having satisfied himself that all was quiet, he put his arm into a narrow crack in the side of the cave and his fingers grasped two thin ropes; he gave them a sharp jerk, and instantly there was a rustling, swishing noise as a rope-ladder came tumbling down.

The Fakir tugged at the ladder, and, finding that it was securely fastened above, he at once climbed up. When he had gone about forty feet he found the entrance to another passage; but before venturing to explore it he carefully drew up the ladder as it had been before.

The Fakir cautiously made his way, frequently stopping to put his ear to the floor to listen, and keeping a sharp look-out for any side galleries, of which he passed three, but they were much narrower than the one he was following.

He had proceeded about three hundred yards when he suddenly closed the shutter of his lamp; then, after listening a while, he went on in the dark, and it was well he had turned off his light, for the passage took an abrupt turn, and he saw the glimmer of a light in the distance and faintly heard the sound of voices.

Slowly and noiselessly he approached the light, for he concluded it came from some side cave, and this proved to be the case when he had gone a little farther.

"I tell you again that you have got all the stones if, as you say, you have stolen the one Ellison Sahib was taking to Lahore."

The words were spoken in a loud voice, and so suddenly had they broken the stillness of the dismal place that the Fakir started with surprise, and then crouched closer to listen.

"What the Sahib says is not true, for we have only got one of the last you found the other day," said another speaker.

"Then get the rest if you can, for I know nothing about any more. How long is this farce going to last? My father says he will let you have any stones he has found if one of you will go with me for them, but I told you when you first captured me that you would get nothing of value by keeping me a prisoner," replied Mark, for he it was.

"Then you shall not leave this cave until the other parts of the broken slab are discovered and in our hands, and I may tell you that it is more than a hundred years since the slab was broken and some of the parts stolen and lost. Take him back to his cave"; and the Fakir could hear footsteps ascending steps and then die away in the distance.

"Now, brothers, hearken," began the speaker who had addressed Mark. "We have learnt that Koj Burton has almost guessed who we are, and if he follows up his idea he will surely track us down. Our forefathers through many generations protected the secret of their work and amassed wealth in the way we are doing, and, with the exception of the man who accidentally found his way into this cave and stole the inscribed slab, no outsider has ever known the secret of the Cave of Hydas—and that man met his death without having an opportunity of revealing what he had learnt, although he caused us to lose part of that on which was written the command to guard the secret of the cave with our lives.

"Are we now going to allow this Koj Burton to bring destruction upon us and thereby destroy our method of obtaining wealth?" asked the speaker fiercely.

"Never! never! never!" shouted fully half a dozen voices.

"Then he must die, and I will see that he does so, and in such a manner that his death cannot in any way be traced to us"; and as the Fakir heard these words he gripped his revolver more tightly, and a grim smile played about his mouth.

"If this Koj Burton suspects who we are, do you not think, Appoyas, that he may also have gained some idea of the Cave of Hydas?" a voice asked.

"It may be so, and we will have the cave well guarded. Do not forget that to-morrow night at ten o'clock it will be, according to the records, exactly fifty years since the offerings in the Temple of Atlas were removed to the Temple of Hydas. This has been done every fifty years, and only on those occasions is the inner temple opened, and—" the speaker stopped abruptly, and then, after a moment's pause, continued—"and, brothers, you may now go."

On hearing the last words so suddenly spoken the Fakir began quickly and noiselessly to retreat along the passage, but, as no one appeared to be following, he stopped.

For some minutes he heard men talking, and dimly saw some figures come into the passage and go in the opposite direction, and in a short time the sound of footsteps died away and the Fakir was left alone in the silent darkness.

More than a quarter of an hour he remained motionless; then he felt his way to the entrance of the side cave in which he had heard the men, and, finding all still, he turned on his light.

It was a cave-chamber, about twelve feet square; the walls were fairly smooth, but the roof was uneven—it was evidently an enlarged cave. From this cave-chamber there was a flight of steps to a passage above, and the Fakir was on the point of ascending them when he heard quick footsteps coming along the passage towards him, which caused him to hurry back into the passage he had left; then, turning off his light, he waited and listened.

"One of the brothers must have come back for something," the Fakir heard some one mutter. "It is all right, though; I will return to my prisoner," and then he went away.

Without venturing to turn on his light the Fakir started for the rope-ladder; every few paces he paused to listen; he appeared extremely suspicious, for at times he would halt for three or four minutes and was constantly feeling his revolver.

At last he had nearly reached the ladder, when suddenly he saw a faint glimmer as though from a light in the passage below, so, inch by inch, he approached the edge until he was able to peer down, and almost at the instant he did so the light below went out; but he had learnt much in that one glance, and, as the sound of a severe struggle from below reached him, he quickly lowered the ladder and quietly slipped down.

No sooner had he reached the bottom than he turned on his light for an instant, which revealed Tom Ellison and a powerful native trying to get the better of each other, the latter having a knife in his hand, but Tom was holding him by the wrist and preventing him using it.

In a moment the Fakir had twisted the knife from the man's grasp, and in a few seconds the man was bound and gagged.

"Well I'm—" began Tom, but the Fakir put his hand over Tom's mouth and, taking him by the arm, led him to the cave-entrance.

"Speak low, Tom," said the Fakir in a low voice.

"Marvellous! Is it you, Burton? I should never have known you in that get-up," whispered the surprised Tom.

"Seems like it. But quick's the word, my boy. We must have that man out before any of his comrades come along, and this must be done without his discovering who I am. We must blindfold him, for there is a rope-ladder hanging near him, and on no account must he learn that it is down, and that we are aware of its existence; as soon as we have him here I will return and place the ladder as I found it," said Burton.

"Ah, now I understand why you so promptly put out your light when you had secured the knife," said Tom. "But where shall you take the man? His comrades will hear about his capture if you take him to the camp," he added.

"That is the very last thing I wish them to learn. About an hour's walk from here—but two hours for us to-night, I am afraid—there is a salt-mine, and to-day I arranged—in case I needed it—to use part of it as a temporary prison until we make a grand coup on the rest of the gang. I have a couple of my men waiting near the mine now," explained Burton.

It was a difficult tramp they had with their prisoner. They kept him blindfolded, and his hands bound; and each held him by an arm as they stumbled over the rough ground in the dark, for Burton would not risk using his lamp lest the light, at that unusual hour, should attract the attention of the man's friends and cause them to try and discover what it meant.

When they had safely lodged their prisoner they started for the camp.

"What caused you to go to that cave, Tom?" asked Burton, as they walked along.

"Oh, the word on that last piece of stone turns out to be 'cave,' and when thinking the matter over I thought of the place Mark had entered after the porcupine, so I spotted the place before dark, and then quietly left the camp after dinner on a private exploring expedition. That man suddenly sprang upon me just before you so opportunely appeared on the scene," explained Tom.

"Then that's all right—you were followed from the camp; I was afraid they had placed a guard over that entrance," said Burton. "I branch off here, for I cannot enter the camp in this disguise; I want to use it again, and as a Fakir I do not wish to be seen near the camp; but I hope to turn up early in the—or rather this morning. I advise you to get all the rest you can, for I think I can promise you a very lively time before many hours are over."

As Burton went on alone, he muttered, "Yes, I must have all arrangements carefully made. I expect we shall have a dangerous tussle, for they are not the class of men to give in quietly."