e one wanted to touch his old master and that his old master did not
want to be touched.

"At him, Tumbu! At him, good dog!" The words came to Roy in a flash, and
like a flash the great, powerful dog leaped forward, his fur a-bristle,
his white teeth gleaming, and the next instant, taken by the suddenness
of the attack, the sentry lay on his back half stunned by the fall,
while Tumbu, on the top of him, checked even a cry by a clutch at his
throat. A soft clutch so far; but one that would tear through flesh if
needful.

Roy was on his knees beside the fallen man.

"Hist! not a sound or the dog shall kill you. He can. Give me the keys.
I want to get out of the gate! The keys, do you hear?"

The sentry tried to struggle, but warned by the weight of the dog on his
breast and those sharp teeth ready to close upon his throat, murmured
hoarsely, "It is only barred, but the bolts are difficult. If you will
let me get up and call off your dog----"

But Roy took no heed of his words. "Keep him there, Tumbu," he whispered
as he ran to the gate.

Bolted and barred it was, and in the darkness of the archway it was hard
to see, for the lantern had gone out in the scuffle. But there was no
time to lose, for already beyond the archway it showed faintly light.
One bar down! The sentry made a faint effort to stir, that was answered
by an ominous growl from Tumbu.

Only one more bolt now!

Roy's long fingers were at it--his whole strength went to it--it
creaked--groaned--slid, and with a sob of exultation Roy felt the fresh
air of dawn in his face as he stood outside the Bala Hissar.

But he had still much to do. The city must be skirted, the hill of
Arkaban gained, and already a faint primrose streak in the eastern sky
told of coming light.

CHAPTER XXI

DAWN

Upon the Arkaban hill the artillery men were already at work. In those
days guns were not what they are now, quick loading, quick firing.

It needed a good hour to ram the coarse powder down, adjust the round
ball and prepare the priming; to say nothing of the task of aiming. So,
long ere dawn, the glimmering lights were seen about the battery, which,
perched on a hill, gave on the half-breached bastion. Between the two
stretched an open space of undulating ground. Sumbal, "the master
fireworker," as he is called in the old history books, was up betimes
seeing to his men, and with him came a grave, silent man, who, though he
had no interest in the quarrels