hted, the brandy-and-water carefully mixed and placed
on an adjoining table within reach, and comfortably settling himself on
his seat, Lieutenant Curtis began his history.

"On the top of yonder sugar-loaf hill, in the centre of Bellary Fort, a
prisoner was confined, and the daily duty of the officer of the guard
was to visit him. He was an old, worn-out man, whose hair had grown
grey a captive, and I can tell you, Harris, it was no joke to have to
plod up the steps cut in the face of the rock every morning, to ask the
old man the stereotyped question, `Did he want anything?'

"He had been a sovereign of some petty State, and our people wanted the
land, so they took it, and to keep its former owner quiet, confined him
to the top of yon granite rock; so daily the subaltern on guard mounted
the steps, and asked the usual question, every time receiving the same
reply,--

"`Yes, I want my liberty and the land you stole from me, nothing else!'"

"And did he ever get it?" asked Harris.

"He very nearly did," replied Captain Hughes. "But go on with your
tale, Curtis."

The officer addressed took a steady pull at the brandy pawnee by his
side, puffed out a heavy cloud of smoke, and continued--

"One day the old man received by stealth a considerable sum of money,
and with this and the promise of more he succeeded in bribing an officer
of a native regiment, then doing duty with us in the fort. The officer
went up with his palky several times pretexting illness, and no notice
was taken of it; at last, one day the bearers, who had been also well
paid, felt by the weight that the prisoner was inside. They took up the
palky, which had been standing near the gate, and lazily followed by the
sick officer, who inspected the sergeant's guard as he passed, took
their way down.

"It was well contrived, but old Sergeant Flack of ours noticed the
weight of the empty palky, and as soon as he had turned in his guard,
went to his prisoner's quarters to find the bird flown.

"The subaltern and the palanquin with its bearers parted company at the
foot of the hill, he taking his way to the main guard, a richer, but
dishonoured man; the poor prisoner, his heart beating wildly at the now
sure prospect of liberty, was borne along towards the gates of the fort.
An armed party of his former subjects waited him; so once outside and
mounted he would be safe, and if it had not been for Flack he would have
been.

"Just as he neared the ga