Through the throng of shouting, excited men the girl's brother broke.

"Noreen! Noreen! My G.o.d, are you there? Are you safe?" he cried frantically.

Almost before Badshah sank to the ground, the girl, with a little sob, sprang into her brother's arms and clung to him, while Dermot was dragged off the pad by the eager hands of a dozen men who thumped him on the back, pulled him from one to another, and nearly shook his arm off. The servants had brought out lamps to light up the scene.

From the verandah steps Chunerb.u.t.ty looked jealously on. He had been relieved at knowing that the girl had returned, but in his heart he cursed the man who had saved her. He was roughly thrust aside by Parry, who dashed up the steps, ran into the house, and emerged a minute later holding a large tumbler in his hand.

"Where is he, where is he? Look you, I know what he wants. Here's what will do you good, Major," he shouted.

Dermot laughed and, taking the tumbler, drank its contents gratefully, though their strength made him cough, for the bibulous Celt had mixed it to his own taste.

"Major, Major, how can we thank you?" said Fred Daleham, coming to him with his sister clinging to his arm.

But she had to release him and shake hands over and over again with all the planters and receive their congratulations and expressions of delight at seeing her safe and sound. Meanwhile her brother was endeavouring in the hubbub to thank her rescuer. But Dermot refused to listen.

"Oh, there's nothing to make a fuss about I a.s.sure you, Daleham," he said.

"It was just that I had the luck to be the first to follow the raiders. Any one else would have done the same."

"Oh, nonsense, old man," broke in Payne, clapping him on the back. "Of course we'd all have liked to do it, but none of us could have tracked the scoundrels like you could. How did you do it?"

"Yes; tell us what happened, Major."

"How did you find her, Dermot?"

"What occurred, Miss Daleham?"

"Did they put up a fight, sir?"

The eager mob of men poured a torrent of questions on the girl and her rescuer.

"Easy on, you fellows," said Dermot, laughing. "Give us time. We can't answer you all at once."

"Yes, give them a chance, boys. Don't crowd," cried one planter.

"Here! We can't see them. Let's have some light," shouted another.

"Where are those servants? Bring out all the lamps!"

"Lamps be hanged! Let's have a decent blaze. We'll have a bonfire."

Several of the younger planters ran to the stable and outhouses and brought piles of straw, old boxes, anything that would burn. Others despatched coolies to the factory near by to fetch wood, broken chests, and other fuel. Several bonfires were made and the flames lit up the scene with a blaze of light.

"Why, you're wounded, Dermot!" exclaimed Payne.

"Oh, no. Just a scratch."

"Yes, he is wounded, but he pretends it's nothing," said Noreen. "Do see if it's anything serious, Mr. Payne."

"I a.s.sure you it's nothing," protested the soldier, resisting eager and well-meant attempts to drag him into the house and tend his hurts by force.

But attention was diverted when a planter cried:

"Good Heavens! what's this? The elephant's tusk is covered with blood."

"Tusk! Why, he's blood to the eyes," exclaimed another.

For the leaping flames revealed the fact that Badshah's tusk, trunk, and legs were covered with freshly-dried blood.

"Good Heavens! he's been wading in it."

"What's that on his tusk? Why, it's fragments of flesh. Oh, the deuce!"

There were exclamations of surprise and horror from the white men. But the ma.s.s of coolies, who had been pressing forward to stare, drew back into the darkness and muttered to each other.

"The G.o.d! The G.o.d! Who can withstand the G.o.d?" they whispered.

"_Arhe, bhai_! (Aye, brother!) But which is the G.o.d? The elephant or his rider? Tell me that!" exclaimed a grey-haired coolie.

Among the Europeans the questions showered on Dermot redoubled.

"Look here, you fellows. I can't answer you all at once," he expostulated.

"It's a long story. But please remember that Miss Daleham has had a tiring day and must be worn out."

"Oh, no, I'm not," exclaimed the girl. "Not now. I was fatigued, but I'm too excited to rest yet."

"Come into the bungalow everyone and we'll have the whole story there,"

said her brother. "The servants will get supper ready for us. We must celebrate tonight."

"Indeed, yes. Look you, it shall be very wet tonight in Malpura, whateffer," cried Parry, who was already half drunk. "Here, boy! Boy! Where is that d.a.m.ned black beastie of mine? Boy!"

His _khitmagar_ disengaged himself from the group of servants and approached apprehensively, keeping out of reach of his master's fist.

"Go to the house," said Parry to him in Bengali. "Bring liquor here. All the liquor I have. Hurry, you dog!"

He aimed a blow at him, which the _khitmagar_ dodged with the ease of long practice and ran to execute his master's bidding.

Daleham gave directions to his butler and cook to prepare supper, and led the way into the house with his arm round his sister, who, woman-like, escaped to change her dress and make herself presentable, as she put it.

She had already forgotten the fatigues of the day in the hearty welcome and the joy of her safe home-coming.

But before Dermot entered the bungalow he had water brought and washed from Badshah's head and legs the evidences of the terrible vengeance that he had taken upon their a.s.sailants. And from the verandah the planters looked at animal and master and commented in low tones on the strange tales told of both, for the reputation of mysterious power that they enjoyed with natives had reached every white man of the district.

The crowd of coolies drifted away to their village on the tea-garden, and there throughout the hot night hours the groups sat on the ground outside the thatched bamboo huts and talked of the animal and the man.

"It is not well to cross this sahib who is not as other sahibs," said a coolie, shaking his head solemnly.

"Sahib, say you? Is he only a sahib?" asked an old man. "Is he truly of the _gora logue_ (white folk)?"

"Why, what else is he? Is not his skin white?" said a youth, presumptuously thrusting himself into the conclave of the elders.