"You are a spy of the accursed British
Government, and out of your own mouth will I condemn you. Here, Yusuf,
get a stout rope and let the boy down the well; there isn't more than
half a yard of water in it, and we will soon see whether the stranger
lies or not."
Here was a nice predicament! But Abdul Mujid faced the peril like a man,
and held to the faint hope that no one would recognise the instrument
even if they found it. It was a false hope. In a few minutes up came the
boy, gleefully flourishing the damning evidence, and there was not one
who doubted what it was. Probably in the circumstances, whatever the
article it would have had the same effect, for the case was already
prejudiced.
"Now then, thou son of a burnt father, what sayest thou?" screamed the
headman. "Thou art a spy as I said, and shalt surely die. _Hein!_ what
sayest thou?"
"You speak truth, father," replied the sepoy. "I am making a map for the
British Government; but this is only a little portion of it, and if you
object I will leave out this part altogether, and then there can be no
cause of offence."
"Go to," sneered the headman, "I shall take a much more effective way of
closing the matter by killing you at once. Here, Yusuf, bring my gun,
and you, young men, see that this misbegotten Kafir does not escape."
So Yusuf went off for the gun, and Abdul Mujid turned his face towards
Mecca, and said the evening prayer.
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