“What’s that?”

The question was not uttered aloud, but said mentally, as Richard Darrell suddenly unclosed his eyes and lay gazing in the direction of the window, seeing nothing, for all was pitchy dark. Cut there was the muttering of the distant thunder, the chirping of night insects, and the rustling about of the great moth against the ceiling.

What did it mean? Why should he have awakened so suddenly? There must have been a reason, and the question, “What’s that?” seemed to be ringing in his ears.

“All fancy and dreaming,” thought Dick wearily as he was about to turn and try a fresh position. Then there was a solution of the mystery which made it seem as if, though he slept, there was a something within him still on the watch against danger.

For all at once the open window was lit up by the flickering of the lightning, and there at the top, moving gently, were the nude legs of a man, looking black as jet against the pale, lambent light.

Then all was dark, and Dick lay chained, as it were, to the bed, thinking of his sword, which was hanging against the wall out of reach; of his pistols, equally out of touch, and useless because unloaded. His shotgun and rifle? Both in the sitting-room, at whose door lay the servants, and on the other side of which was his friend and brother-officer.

Dick’s first idea was to call for help. But he hesitated, for he wanted to see more; and he did, for the lightning flickered again, and the legs he had seen were no longer hanging from the upper part of the window, but were at the side, where their owner was feeling with his toes for support on the Venetian-blind like shutters, while a slight, cracking sound told that their strength was being tested.

Dick lay breathless, with the perspiration pouring from him in the darkness, again for a time trying to nerve himself for an effort, till there was another quick opening and shutting, as it were, of the clouds, and this time he saw a dark figure gliding in over the window-sill like a huge, thick snake.

And now he realised, as he believed, what was about to happen. The question of the safety of the Rajah’s present was about to be tested; for, plainly enough, its bringing had been watched, and one of the lithe, active Hindus had by some means—how, the young officer could not divine—managed to climb to the projecting shade of the veranda, and was about to carry it off!

Dick’s thoughts ran fast in those moments, and he argued to himself that, if he shouted to alarm the sleepers near and the sentry below, the man would escape. It would be better, he thought, to let him pass through the chamber into the sitting-room, and then follow and trap him. For the window there was shut and fastened, and of the exits, one was guarded by the two servants, the other by Wyatt, who would rouse up at the first alarm.

To carry out his plan Dick lay perfectly still, listening and watching for the next flash of lightning, which seemed as if it would never come; but when it did, it showed him just what he expected—a dark figure, like a four-footed beast, creeping to the chamber door.

Then came the darkness again, and as Dick listened, with every nerve on the strain, he heard the door opened and an increase in the loudness of the breathing which came from the servants.

He waited a few moments, to give the marauder time to get right into the sitting-room, but not, as he thought, sufficient to reach down the dangerous weapon, and then glided out of the bed to make for the door, drawing in his breath ready to utter a loud cry as soon as he had reached it.

But in spite of his care the bedstead gave a faint creak, which was followed by a rustling in front; and as he sprang to the door, it was to come in contact with the soft, warm body of the man.

The next moment he was engaged in a wrestling match with an adversary half as strong again as himself, and, in spite of his efforts, he could get no grip of the soft, elastic flesh, whose skin had been lavishly oiled while garments the man had none.

It was a brave effort, though, in which the young officer tried hard to hold the nocturnal visitor by twining arms and legs about him as he was borne here and there, and felt as if he were trying to hold some gigantic eel.

He had succeeded in one thing though. By the dash of his attack he had driven the man back into the sitting-room, where the alarm was given, not by a cry from Dick, but by the knocking over of a couple of chairs, and then by a crash as the wrestlers struck against the table.

The next moment the man had wrested himself free, and Dick was sent staggering into the arms of some one who seized him, yelling loudly for help; and then, quite breathless, he was thrown to the floor, and two men were seated upon him, just as the report of the sentry’s carbine rang out and Wyatt’s door was opened, that individual roaring in Hindustani, “Give up or I’ll run you through.”

“Here, Wyatt,” panted Dick, “make these two fools get off me. A robber! a thief! He’ll escape by the window.”

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” growled Wyatt. “Who else is here?”

A flash of lightning showed him the two native servants slowly rising from off the prostrate lad, who leaped to his feet and ran to his bedroom window in the darkness now.

“Below there, guard!” he cried.

“All right, sir. What is it?”

“Did you hit him?”

“Didn’t see any one, sir. I tried to give the alarm.”

“There’s a fellow somewhere about. He got in at my window.”

“Nobody came down this way, sir.”

“Have a good hunt. Get more lights,” shouted Wyatt, as the corporal of the guard bore a lantern out into the courtyard and held it up.

“Hush! listen!” cried Wyatt; but there was not a sound, and he turned to whisper to his companion, “Sure you weren’t dreaming, Dick?”

“Certain. I had him fast, but he was like a snake.”

“But you may have been walking in your sleep.”

“No, no! Nearly every thing is torn off me.”

“Yes; but that may have been in your struggle with the boys.”

“I tell you I was awakened by a slight noise, and saw a dark, naked figure creep in at the window.”

“It was too dark to see such a thing, lad.”

“What! with flashes of lightning like that?”

“Humph!” ejaculated Wyatt, for every thing in the room was for the moment plainly seen.

“I tell you it was a thief creeping in to steal your present.”

“What!”

“And I let him get through the door of the room before I followed, so as to trap him.”

“Look here, Dick, lad,” said Wyatt; “I’m sorry for this. You’ve roused every one up.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Hark at them, and look at the lanterns.—Below there—see anybody?” he shouted.

“No, sir; there’s no one here.”

“You don’t believe me?” said Dick hotly.

“Well, old boy, you were talking about niggers coming in at windows to steal it before you went to bed, and you might have dreamed it. I think I was fancying something of the kind when I was woke up by the row.”

“Oh, very well,” said Dick shortly; “but I know.”

“Don’t be huffy, old boy,” said the captain; and as a flash came in at the window he caught sight of the trophy on the wall. “I say: the tulwar’s all right.”

“Because he hadn’t time to get it. Hff! how the beast wrenched me about! He was slippery as an eel.—Ah! Now then!” cried Dick triumphantly; “smell my hands.”

Wyatt caught his brother-officer’s wrists and raised the extended hands to his face. “Hallo!” he said. “Rancid oil.”

“Yes; he was covered with it.”

“Here, get a light,” cried Wyatt. “Has either of you been oiling himself?”

“No, sahib,” said Ram Dad. “It’s the Sahib Darrell, all cover, and come off.”

“Bring up a lantern, some one,” cried Wyatt out of the window.—“But, Dick, my lad, no one could get to your window from below.”

“I told you he came from above.”

“That you didn’t.”

“Well, I meant to. He lowered himself from the top.”

“May I come in, gentlemen?” said a familiar voice outside the door.

“Yes, yes, come in,” cried Wyatt; and Acting-lieutenant Stubbs, in shirt and trousers, entered, with a drawn sabre in one hand, and a lantern in the other.

“Hah!” cried Ram Dad, making two jumps over the floor of the disordered room, to come down like a frog upon something before rising up again and displaying a peculiar-looking, glittering knife. “Smell of oil, sahib,” he said.

Wyatt caught the keen, sharp-pointed weapon, and raised it to his nostrils.

“By Jove!” he said hoarsely. “Dick, dear boy, you’ve had a narrow escape. Dropped, I suppose, in the tussle.”

“And look here,” said Dick eagerly; “my pyjamas are soaked with the beastly stuff.”

“Better than being soaked with blood, sir,” said the sergeant in a low, deep voice, and he ran to the windows.

“There’s a fellow somewhere, my lads,” he cried. “Yes, yes; search the roof-terrace,” cried Wyatt. Then, as the men made for the staircase, he turned to Dick. “I beg your pardon, old lad,” he whispered; “but are you sure you are not hurt?”

“Only wrenched about and stiff. I shall have a nice lot of bruises about me.”

“Never mind the bruises; get your pistols,” said Wyatt.—“Tell them to fire, Stubbs, if they see the brute and he doesn’t give in.”

“Yes, sir; but I don’t see how he could have got here. No one could pass the gate, and it’s impossible from outside without a ladder.”

“Then whoever it was must have used a ladder,” said Wyatt, who was busily loading the pistols. “Off with you, Stubbs, with half-a-dozen men, and go round outside. But I expect he has made his escape by now.”

Lights were seen on the fortified roof, the men having started from the gate-tower in both directions, careful search being made till they met and crossed, each party searching the place in turn, while the examination was going on below; and this went on for an hour, and long after Stubbs had carefully examined all round outside.

“It’s lucky for him,” said Wyatt at last.—“There, dismiss the men, Stubbs; but double the guard, though there’s not likely to be another attempt to-night. And I say, you might say a word or two—not coming from me—about the smart way in which the lads turned out on the alarm.”

“If you wish it, sir, I will,” said Stubbs, frowning.

“Well, why not?”

“Turn the lads’ heads too much, sir. They’re proud and vain enough as it is.”

“Very well, never mind. Good-night.”

“Good-night, sir.”

Wyatt was left alone now with Dick, and, light in hand, the first thing he did was to close and fasten the windows, and then carefully examine the rooms and stairs, before telling the men to lie down again.

“Why, Dick,” he said suddenly, “I never thought to tell Hulton and the doctor what was going on. Let’s go and tell them now.”

They took the light and went gently to the room shared by the two convalescents, to find that people still weak from old injuries sleep deeply. For in each case, undisturbed by the sentry’s carbine, the noise of the search, and the flitting about of lights, there lay the two, sleeping as placidly as children, making their friends step back gently on tiptoe, to laugh softly together as they went back to their own quarters, where Wyatt became serious directly.

“Can you sleep after this?” he said.

“Oh, yes, I think so,” replied Dick; “I feel very tired now.”

“It means being half-smothered in future, old fellow,” said Wyatt, “for I shall never care to rest with my window open again.”

Dick laughed softly.

“I don’t think I shall ever try to stop a fellow coming on such a mission as this. Better let him have what he likes. But, I say: I shall keep that knife. He will not come to fetch it, will he?”

“If he does I hope I shall be awake so as to have a shot at him. My word, Dick, you have had an escape!”

“Well, don’t tell me so again; it sets a fellow thinking so.”

“All right.”

“I say, what time is it?” Wyatt looked at his watch.

“Half-past three. This is going to be a short night’s rest.”