of all the little
Heir-to-Empire's guardians knew the dire danger he was in. Yet how could
he, a poor, prisoned Rajput lad, save the young prince?

Still he had to be saved; he must be saved; and there was no time to be
lost. At dawn the firing would recommence from the Arkaban hill; at dawn
the helpless child would be in the half-breached bastion exposed to that
fire!

Yes! He, Roy, must get out somehow. If he could only loosen one bar of
the window so that he could squeeze through, then he might be able to
let himself down by a rope twined out of his long waist-cloth and
turban! Thus he might be able to get out of the fort! He might be able
to gain the camp on the Arkaban hill before dawn! So he might be able to
warn the guns not to fire on the bastion; might be able to tell them
that the Heir-to-Empire hung there!

What a number of "might be ables"; but would he be able, even for the
first task?

He took up his sword and began forthwith on the iron bar; but the mortar
was hard, he could scarcely make a mark upon it. Still, it must be done.
In order to free his arms better for the work he took off all his
clothes save his flimsy, sleeveless waistcoat and the loin-cloth that
was girt about him, and buckled down steadily. But when more than an
hour had passed the bar seemed as firm as ever. As he crouched down on
the window sill he could see through it to the flat roof of the
neighboring palaces; for it was a bright moonlight night still, though
the moon must be nigh to her setting. So the thought crossed his mind
that if he could only squeeze through he might be able to reach one of
those roofs; since, if he remembered aright, a wide cornice ran just
below. He paused for a second in his labour to see if this was so,
craning his head through the crossbars. Yes, the cornice was there!
Scarcely wide enough for a cat to walk, but if he got through in time he
would risk it. He must risk it!

But would he get through in time? He set to work again feverishly until
suddenly a familiar sound reached his ear from outside; the sound of a
cat purring!

Could it be Down? She had not found them out in their new prison, but if
she had happened to be on the roof when he looked out of the window she
might have seen him or smelled him--yes! There was a white cat on the
cornice, and the next moment Down was on the sill, arching her back and
purring away contentedly.

So she had found them at last--no! not _them_, for the Heir-t