He wished he could test his second model in the morning light before the warder came, and correct it then.  But to do so would involve discovery by his fellow captives; the time to take them into his confidence was not yet.  He had perforce to wait till dead of night before he could tell whether the changes, more and more delicate and minute, made upon his key during the day were effective.  And the Babu was fretful; having done his part admirably, as Desmond told him, in working the key into his story, he seemed to expect that the rest would be easy, and did not make account of the long labor of the file.

At length a night came when, inserting the key in the lock, Desmond felt it turn easily.  Success at last!  As he heard the click, he felt an extraordinary sense of elation.  Quietly unclasping the fetter, he removed it from his ankle, and stood free.  If it could be called free—­to be shut up in a locked and barred shed in the heart of one of the strongest fortresses in Hindostan!  But at least his limbs were at liberty.  What a world of difference there was between that and his former state!

Should he inform the Babu?  He felt tempted to do so, for it was to Surendra Nath’s ingenuity in interpolating the incident of the key into a well-known story that he owed the clay pattern of the warder’s key.  But Surendra Nath was excitable; he was quite capable of uttering a yell of delight that would waken the other men and force a premature disclosure.  Desmond decided to wait for a quiet moment next day before telling the Babu of his success.  So he replaced his ankle band, locked the catch, and lay down to the soundest and most refreshing sleep he had enjoyed for many a night.

He had only just reached the workshop next morning when a peon came with a message that Angria Rho {a chief or prince} required his instant attendance at the palace.  He began to quake in spite of himself.  Could the prince have discovered already that the lock of his fetters had been tampered with?  Desmond could scarcely believe it.  He had made his first test in complete darkness; nothing had broken the silence save the one momentary click; and the warder, when he unloosed him, had not examined the lock.  What if he were searched and the precious key were found upon him?  It was carefully hidden in a fold of his dhoti.  There was no opportunity of finding another hiding place for it; he must go as he was and trust that suspicion had not been aroused.  But it was with a galloping pulse that he followed the peon out of the dockyard, within the walls of the fort, and into the hall where he had had his first interview with the Pirate.

His uneasiness was hardly allayed when he saw that Angria was in company with Diggle.  Both were squatting on the carpeted dais; no other person was in the room.  Having ushered him in, the peon withdrew, and Desmond was alone with the two men he had most cause to fear.  Diggle was smiling, Angria’s eyes were gleaming, his mobile lips working as with impatience, if not anxiety.