“Hadn’t we better bring our rifles too?” asked Brown sarcastically.  “Upon my honor, Juggut Khan!  You’re getting childish!  Are your nerves upset, or what?  Lead on, man!  Lead on!”

“Listen.  There are two ways, sahib.  One way leads from the burned-out barracks to the cellar where the women lie hidden.  That way is closed by debris.  The other way leads from the outer wall by a very winding route to the cellar where the women are.  The fakir knows that way, and I do not, though I know of it.  There is a third way, though, that leads from the outer wall, where I have been exploring, straight almost, if you disregard a wind or two, to the inside of the powder-magazine.  It enters the magazine through a doorway secretly contrived in an upright pillar—­or so the fakir swears.  Now this is my notion, sahib.  If we go in by the lower way, we must come out that way, and run the risk of being caught as we emerge.  That risk will be greatly enhanced when we have frightened women with us whose eyes have been blinded by the darkness.  But, if we go in by the upper way, and enter the magazine itself, I can make the fakir show us how to lift the stone trapdoor I spoke of—­the one that I closed when I hid the women.  Then I can ascend with him, and with say four men, while you ascend to the platform at the top with the remainder of the men, and guard our rear and our exit.  From the top, you will be able to see us as we emerge, and can cover our retreat, and follow.”

“That sounds like a roundabout sort of plan to me!” said Brown.  “Why not go straight in by the lower route, and gather up the women, and carry ’em out, and make a bolt for it?”

“Because, sahib, we will be at the fakir’s mercy.”

“Nonsense!  He’s at our mercy.”

“Think, sahib!  There, he will be in his own bat’s nest, so to speak.  These fakirs are the only men who know the windings of all the secret passages.  They are the rats of religion and intrigue.  At any step he might lead us into an ambush, and we might be overwhelmed before we knew that we were attacked.  If we go the other way, though, I can lead the way myself, and we need only take the fakir to show us how to open the door.”

“Very well,” said Brown.  “Let’s get a move on, though!  I’m beginning to think that you’re a better talker than a fighter, Juggut Khan!”

“Yes, sahib?  I trust there will be no fighting!” But the Rajput smiled as he said it, and thought of a certain lance-shaft which had been broken in the streets of Jailpore.

“Lead on!  Fall in behind me, men!  Walk quietly, now, and remember.  Hold your tongues!  Each man keep his eye on me, and a finger on the trigger!”