e tent.

I was lord and master, according to Salaman; but I felt quite a slave as
I lay there, afraid to move lest he should come back. And as I
listened, I heard him go round the tent to try all the ropes, two others
being with him, as I judged by the voices. While they went quietly
round, I listened with eager ear, fully expecting some alarm to be
raised, and my messenger, whoever he was, to be discovered.

But I heard the men go right round, and return to their own tent; and
then, as soon as I felt it to be safe, I crawled from my couch and made
my way to the lamp, trembling with eagerness to read the message that
had been sent, I hoped, by Brace.

The paper was a mere scrap doubled up quite small, and, as I opened it,
and held it close to the light, my eyes fell on these characters,
scrawled in a very feeble hand, with some kind of pencil which left a
very uncertain mark--

There were faint traces of similar lines above and below, but they were
so rubbed as to be undecipherable; while, as to the above, fancy my
chagrin and disappointment as I turned the paper over, then back, and
scanned the crabbed shorthand-like characters over and over again, but
only to grow more and more confused, for I could make no sense of it
whatever. Even if the upper and lower lines had been plain, I am afraid
that I should have been no wiser. Certainly I had gone through a long
study of the Eastern languages, and this bore a strong resemblance to
some of the characters; but what it meant, I had no more idea than a
babe.

I remained by the lamp, puzzling over that scrap of paper till my brain
began to swim; and at last, wearied out, and in utter despair, I went
back to my couch and threw myself down, to lie and think. And all the
time I knew that this might be a message bidding me be quite ready, for
an effort was to be made, perhaps that very night, to rescue me and
restore me to my friends.

That it must be something of the kind, I had no doubt; but how foolish
it seemed to be of Brace to trust another to write his message! He
might have anticipated that it would be badly written.

But perhaps it was not Brace's doing, and it might be a communication
from some friendly chief.

At any rate, I could not make it out, and there was nothing to be done
but keep on the _qui vive_, and wait for what was to come. For that
something would result from the missive I was sure, but what it would be
I could only imagine; and my mind p