lay your head against me, dear, and say your prayers, and try and go
off to sleep."

Presently, however, Ada's figure drooped more and more, until her
whole weight leaned upon Charlie's arm.

"She has fainted, Tim," he said. "Help me to raise her well in my
arms, and lay her head on my shoulder. That's right. Now, you'll find
her shawl somewhere under my feet; hold it up, and make a fan of it.
Now, try to send some air into her face."

By this time, not more than fifty out of the hundred and forty-six who
entered the cell were alive. Suddenly a scream of joy, from those near
the window, proclaimed that a native was approaching with some water.
The struggle at the window was fiercer than ever. The bowl was too
wide to pass through the bars, and the water was being spilt in vain;
each man who strove to get his face far enough through to touch the
bowl being torn back, by his eager comrades behind.

"Tim," Charlie said, "you are now much stronger than most of them.
They are faint from the struggles. Make a charge to the window. Take
that little shawl and dip it into the bowl, or whatever they have
there, and then fight your way back with it."

"I will do it, yer honor," said Tim, and he rushed into the struggling
group.

Weak as he was from exhaustion and thirst, he was as a giant to most
of the poor wretches, who had been struggling and crying all night;
and, in spite of their cries and curses, he broke through them and
forced his way to the window.

The man with the bowl was on the point of turning away, the water
being spilt in the vain attempts of those within to obtain it. By the
light of the fire which the guard had lit without, Tim saw his face.

"Hossein," he exclaimed, "more water, for God's sake! The master's
alive yet."

Hossein at once withdrew, but soon again approached with the bowl. The
officer in charge angrily ordered him to draw back.

"Let the infidel dogs howl," he said. "They shall have no more."

Regardless of the order, Hossein ran to the window, and Tim thrust the
shawl into the water at the moment when the officer, rushing forward,
struck Hossein to the ground: a cry of anguish rising from the
prisoners, as they saw the water dashed from their lips.

Tim made his way back to the side of his master. Had those who still
remained alive been aware of the supply of water which he carried, in
the shawl, they would have torn it from him; but none save those just
at the window had noticed t