A Pledge
"I have been watching you through glasses all this afternoon. Yes, Miss Rand—from the hill behind the hut. Now is our chance. The native guard in the ravine behind the mosque has been slain, but the devils are thick on the mountain side"
Edith would have given much to read his face. Monsey's coming had at first filled her with expectation. Had aid from Kashmir reached Yakka Arik?
"Your father sent me." The man spoke impatiently. "I have risked much to come here to-night. Do not wait to get any other clothing. I have horses and men up the mountain. We came through—along a goat path."
He did not tell her of hours spent spying from the heights upon Yakka Arik, or of men slain in a silent struggle where he penetrated the concealed ravine through which he had once before entered the valley—or of the fear that clung to him, close as his own shadow.
"My father? Is he here?"
Monsey swore under his breath and leaned nearer.
"No! He is sick. Come! You do not understand. You must go or these devils will see us, and that will be the end of us all. Nom d'un nom!"
Edith strove to think, to decide. She had no reason to doubt that Arthur Rand had sent the Russian. The man's presence in the garden, which must be decidedly dangerous to him, was evidence to back his words. It was her instinctive distrust of Monsey that made her pause—that, and another thought. Donovan had told her of his pledge that she would not leave Yakka Arik without the consent of the Sayak chiefs.
"Your father will be at my camp soon," he urged.
"I have a friend," she said quickly. "He should
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