By the
light of the fire which the guard had lit without, Tim saw his face.
"Hossein," he exclaimed, "more water, for God's sake! The master's
alive yet."
Hossein at once withdrew, but soon again approached with the bowl. The
officer in charge angrily ordered him to draw back.
"Let the infidel dogs howl," he said. "They shall have no more."
Regardless of the order, Hossein ran to the window, and Tim thrust the
shawl into the water at the moment when the officer, rushing forward,
struck Hossein to the ground: a cry of anguish rising from the
prisoners, as they saw the water dashed from their lips.
Tim made his way back to the side of his master. Had those who still
remained alive been aware of the supply of water which he carried, in
the shawl, they would have torn it from him; but none save those just
at the window had noticed the act, and inside it was still entirely
dark.
"Thank God, yer honor, here it is," Tim said; "and who should have
brought it, but Hossein. Shure, yer honor, we both owe our lives to
him this time, for I'm sure I should have been choked by thirst,
before morning."
Ada was now lowered to the ground and, forcing her teeth asunder, a
corner of the folded shawl was placed between her lips, and the water
allowed to trickle down.
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