nd his attendant withdrew, and the prisoners were left in
silence to stare at the horrible death which now hung with terrible
nearness over the head of Jack.

Mr. Haydon gave a deep groan.

"This is too dreadful, Jack," he said, in a low, shaking voice. "I see
they mean it. There can be no possible doubt of that now." Then
suddenly the note of his voice changed. It became tense, vibrating,
eager. "What's that?" he said, and again, "What's that?" and fell
silent.

Jack turned his head and saw what his father meant. Twenty yards to
their right a large patch of reeds grew on the edge of the swamp. From
the reeds the figure of a man was slowly creeping towards them.
Swathed from head to foot in folds of thick white linen, to defend
himself from the bites of the venomous mosquitoes, the man was working
his way inch by inch along the ground.

Jack watched the stranger's progress with deep and burning interest.
Surely he came as a friend! The bitterest enemy could not come to make
their situation worse than it was at present.

With a last swift wriggle the creeping figure was at the foot of the
net which shrouded Jack. The latter looked down and saw that the man
was literally covered from head to foot with masses of the swarming
insects. Then, with wonderful dexterity, the newcomer jerked aside the
insects which were massed upon him, raised the lower edge of the net,
and shot with a swift, sinuous movement inside.

As he sprang to his feet, his linen wrapper fell aside, and, to his
great astonishment, Jack saw the bald shaven head of the _pothoodaw_
flash up into the moonlight. Then the holy man smiled, and Jack knew
the cheerful grin. His heart leapt for joy. It was Me Dain, the Burman
guide. Out gleamed a keen knife, half-a-dozen rapid cuts were
delivered, and Jack's bonds, gag and all, hung in shreds about him.
Jack caught a fervent, grateful whisper from the neighbouring
framework.

"Thank God! a friend, a friend!" Mr. Haydon breathed in a tone of
intense relief.

"Wait!" breathed Me Dain in Jack's ear, and was gone. The Burman
wrapped himself again in his linen shield, wormed his way across to
the framework where Mr. Haydon was a captive, and cut him free in an
instant.

"Me Dain!" Jack caught the whisper from his father, and knew that the
latter had recognised his old guide. A few whispered words passed
between the Burman and Mr. Haydon, then the latter whispered across to
his son: "Wrap your coat round your