Only weary, weary.
"I want Tumbu," he would say, "I want to run a race with him.

I want to be out of doors." And so while the city was alive with armed men, when there were assaults and repulses and sorties and forlorn hopes going on day after day, Roy would tell Mirak that some day something would happen.

Some day the door would open and---- And one day the door did open.

And a tall man stood for a second, half-blinded by the darkness.

But the next he strode forward and caught the little Heir-to-Empire to his heart, murmuring, "My son--my little son!" It was King Humayon; for Kumran, after pleading for a few hours' truce to allow him to make submission, had taken advantage of this breathing time to make his escape with the more desperate of his followers.