He pressed the party forward until close upon sunset, when Tynan was absolutely incapable of another step. The heat had told upon his wasted strength, and he was on the point of fainting. Nothing save the hope of escape could have kept him up so long. They halted in a small clearing among the trees.
"For heaven's sake, subadar, let me have something to eat!"
"I think the place will suit our purpose," Pir Baksh observed, calmly ignoring the boy's request.
The words and tone struck Tynan as a whip-lash across the face. He looked round for a way of escape, and his arms were seized from behind.
Unnecessary precaution! He was much too weak to resist, and Ghulam Beg threw him roughly to the ground. Pir Baksh contemptuously kicked his fallen enemy.
"Fool!" he snarled. "Didst thou think to escape my vengeance so easily?"
The wretched boy saw the look of hatred in the brute's eyes, and felt that he was doomed. There was no hope of mercy there. He knew at last that the blackguard's object had been to increase his misery by raising his hopes, and the vile scheme had succeeded.
"Remember your oath," the ensign gasped. "Remember the reward, Pir Baksh."
"And dost thou think," the traitor retorted with an air of virtue that sat badly upon his vicious face, "dog of an unbeliever, that we of the Faith would sell our souls for money?"
"In what manner shall we slay him?" asked Muhammad Baksh.
"With our bayonets?" sneered the third sepoy. "Let us talk sense."
"Tie him to yonder tree, then," said Tynan's late attendant, "and make a target of him. Fire first at hands and feet and legs and arms."
"Aye, and make a noise that may be heard for miles?" the leader angrily retorted.
Pir Baksh had his reasons for wishing to put his victim away more quietly. In a state of abject terror Tynan listened to the horrible suggestions. The nightmare of suspense and despair experienced in his prison chamber was as nothing to this.
"I have a better plan," said the subadar quietly. "Ye will tie him hand and foot to yonder tree, gag his mouth, and leave him there. There will be little left of him in the morning except bare bones, and clever as the Feringhis are, they will find no mark of knife or bullet should they chance to come across what is left. Ye have the cords. Tie him up."