He saw the two Wari sentinels salaaming profoundly, and he began to wonder who the newcomer might be--a personage of some importance apparently.
There followed an interval of some minutes, during which Phil began to chafe with feverish impatience.

Then at last the shadow became substance, moving into his line of vision, and a man, wrapped in a long, native garment and wearing a _chuddah_ that concealed the greater part of his face, glided into the hut on noiseless, sandalled feet.
He held a naked knife in his hand, and Phil's heart began to thud unpleasantly.

It taxed all a man's self-control to face death in cold blood, trussed hand and foot and helpless as an infant.

But he gripped himself hard, and faced the weapon without flinching.

It would not do to let these murderous ruffians see a white man afraid.
"Hullo!" he said contemptuously.