l-wrapping mist came down, falling on horse and rider and
wrestler and robber and Amir; hiding all, covering all, folding all, in
its soft samite arms, till not a man's own hand was visible to him a
span's length from his face.

I could feel the heaving chest of the captain beneath my knee; I could
feel the twitching of the broken arm tortured under the pressure of my
left hand; but I could see neither face nor arm nor breast, nor even my
own fingers. Only above me, as I stared up, seemed to tower the
supernatural proportions of Ram Lal, a white apparition visible through
the opaque whiteness that hid everything else from view. It was only a
moment. A hand was on my shoulder, Isaacs' voice was in my ear, speaking
to Shere Ali. Ram Lal drew me away.

"Be quick," he said; "take my hand, I will lead you to the light." We
ran along the soft grass, following the sound of each other's feet,
swiftly. A moment more and we were in the pass; the mist was lighter,
and we could see our way. We rushed up the stony path fast and sure,
till we reached the clear bright moonlight, blazing forth in silver
splendour again. Far down below the velvet pall of mist lay thick and
heavy, hiding the camp and its horses and men from our sight.

"Friend," said Isaacs, "you are as free as I. Praise Allah, and let us
depart in peace."

The savage old warrior grasped the outstretched hand of the Persian and
yelled aloud--

"Illallaho-ho-ho-ho!" His throat was as brass.

"La illah ill-allah!" repeated Isaacs in tones as of a hundred clarions,
echoing by tree and mountain and river, down the valley.

"Thank God!" I said to Ram Lal.

"Call Him as you please, friend Griggs," answered the pundit.

It was daylight when we reached the tent at the top of the pass.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XIII.

"Abdul Hafiz," said Ram Lal, as we sat round the fire we had made,
preparing food, "if it is thy pleasure I will conduct thy friend to a
place of safety and set his feet in the paths that lead to pleasant
places. For thou art weary and wilt take thy rest until noon, but I am
not weary and the limbs of the Afghan are as iron." He spoke in Persian,
so that Shere Ali could understand what he said. The latter looked
uneasy at first, but soon perceived that his best chance of safety lay
in immediately leaving the neighbourhood, which was unpleasantly near
Simla on the one side and the frontiers of Baithopoor on the other.