The brigands, having succeeded in their mutiny, bethought themselves of their prisoners, only to find that they had vanished.  Familiar with the cave and its outlet, they started eagerly in pursuit.  They reasoned that if an old man was worth three bags of rupees, two young people might naturally be worth twice as much.  And besides, being tigers, they had tasted blood.

A shout caused Bruce to turn.  Instantly he raised his rifle, and pulled the trigger.  The result was merely a snap.  The gun had not been loaded.  He snatched Kathlyn’s rifle, but this, too, was useless.  The brigands yelled exultantly and began to swarm up the ragged cliff.  Bruce flung aside the gun and turned his attention to a boulder.  Halfway up the chasm had a width which was little broader than the shoulders of an ordinary man.  He waited till he saw the wretches within a yard or so of this spot, then pushed this boulder.  It roared and crashed and bounded, and before it reached the narrow pathway Bruce had started a mate to it.  Then a third followed.  This caused a terrific slide of rocks and boulders, and the brigands turned for their lives.

“That will be about all for the present,” said Bruce, wiping his forehead.  “Now if we can make that village we shall be all right.  Bala Khan’s men will not leave with the camels till they learn whether we are dead or alive.  It will be a hard trek, Miss Kathlyn.  Ten miles over sand is worse than fifty over turf.  I don’t think we’ll see any more of those ruffians.”

“Kathlyn,” she said.

“Well—­Kathlyn!”

“Or, better still, at home they call me Kit.”

They smiled into each other’s eyes, and no words were needed.  Thus quickly youth discards its burdens!

That he did not take her into his arms at once proved the caliber of the man.  And Kathlyn respected him none the less for his control.  She knew now; and she was certain that her eyes had told him as frankly as any words would have done; and she fell into his stride, strangely embarrassed and not a little frightened.  The firm grasp of his hand as here and there he steadied her sent a thrill of exquisite pleasure through her.

Love!  She laughed softly; and he stopped and eyed her in astonishment.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” she answered.

But she went on with the thought which had provoked her laughter.  Love!  Danger all about, unseen, hidden; misery in the foreground, and perhaps death beyond; her father back in chains, to face she knew not what horrors, and yet she could pause by the wayside and think of love!

“There was something,” he insisted.  “That wasn’t happy laughter.  What caused it?”

“Some day I will tell you—­if we live.”

“Live?” Then he laughed.

And she was not slow to recognize the Homeric quality of his laughter.

“Kit, I am going to get you and your father out of all this, if but for one thing.”