“I must have been asleep the first night,” Malchus said, “and did not hear your voice.”

“I feared to speak above a whisper, my lord; there are priests all night in the sanctuary behind the great image.”

Day had by this time broken, and a stir and bustle commenced in front of the long line of casemates; the elephants were brought out from their stables and stood rocking themselves from side to side while their keepers rubbed their hides with pumice stone.  Nessus was one of those who was appointed to make the great flat cakes of coarse flour which formed the principal food of the elephants.  The other Arabs busied themselves in bringing in fresh straw, which Malchus scattered evenly over the stall; heaps of freshly cut forage were placed before each elephant.

In a short time one of the Arabs took the place of Nessus in preparing the cakes, while Nessus moved away and presently went down into the town to await the coming of Malchus.  By this arrangement if the superintendent of the stables came round he would find the proper number of men at work, and was not likely to notice the substitution of Malchus for Nessus, with whose face he could not yet have become familiar.  By this time numbers of the townsmen were as usual coming up to the citadel to worship in the temple or to visit friends dwelling there.  Malchus learned that since his escape had been known each person on entrance received a slip of brass with a stamp on it which he had to give up on leaving.

All employed in the citadel received a similar voucher, without which none could pass the gate.  The time was now come when the elephants were accustomed to be taken down to the fountains in the town below, and the critical moment was at hand.  The mahout had already begun to prepare his elephant for the part he was to play.  It had been trumpeting loudly and showing signs of impatience and anger.  The animal was now made to kneel by the door of its stable, where Malchus had already lain down at the bottom of the howdah, a piece of sacking being thrown over him by the Arabs.  The two Arabs and the mahout carried the howdah out, placed it on the elephant, and securely fastened it in its position.

These howdahs were of rough construction, being in fact little more than large open crates, for the elephants after being watered went to the forage yard, where the crates were filled with freshly cut grass or young boughs of trees, which they carried up for their own use to the citadel.

The mahout took his position on its neck, and the elephant then rose to its feet.  The symptoms of bad temper which it had already given were now redoubled.  It gave vent to a series of short vicious squeals, it trumpeted loudly and angrily, and, although the mahout appeared to be doing his best to pacify it, it became more and more demonstrative.  The superintendent of the elephants rode up.