“Oh, not a clown, Major Dermot.  Rather the hero of a cinema drama, who always appears in time to rescue the persecuted maiden.  I am beginning to feel quite like the unlucky heroine of a film play.”

The cords fastening her had now been cut, so she tried to stand up but found no strength in her numbed limbs.

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I’m—­I’m rather stiff,” she said, sinking back into the chair again.  She felt angry at her weakness, but she was almost glad of it when she saw Dermot’s instant look of concern.

“You are cramped from being tied up,” he said.  “Don’t hurry.”

The cords had chafed her wrists cruelly.  He stooped to examine the abrasions, and the girl thrilled at his gentle touch.  A feeling of shyness overcame her, and she turned her eyes away from his face.  They fell on the bodies of the dead raiders, and she hastily averted her gaze.

“Hadn’t we better hurry away from here?” she asked, apprehensively.

“No; I don’t think there is any necessity.  The men who ran away seemed too scared to think of returning.  But still, we’ll start as soon as you feel strong enough.”

“What was it that they cried out?”

“Oh, merely an uncomplimentary remark about Badshah and me,” he replied.

The girl made another attempt to rise and succeeded with his assistance.  He lifted her on to Badshah’s pad and went over to examine the dead men.  After his first casual glance at the wearer of shoes he knelt down and looked closely into the face of the corpse.  Then he pulled open the single garment.  A thin cord consisting of three strings of spun cotton was round the body next the skin, passing over the left shoulder and under the right arm.  This Dermot cut off.  From inside the garment he took out some other articles, all of which he pocketed.  He then searched the corpse of the scarred Bhuttia, taking a small packet tied up in cloth from the breast of the garment.  Noreen watched him with curiosity and marvelled at his courage in handling the dead bodies.

He returned to the kneeling elephant and took his place on the neck.

“Hold on now, Miss Daleham,” he said.  “Badshah’s going to rise. Uth”

Noreen gripped the surcingle rope tightly as the elephant heaved up his big body and set off along a track through the jungle at a rapid pace.

“Now we are safe enough,” said Dermot, turning towards his companion.  “I have not asked you yet about your adventures.  Tell me all that happened to you, if you don’t mind talking about it.”

“Oh, it was awful,” she answered, shuddering at the remembrance.  “And it was all so sudden.  There was a fire in the jungle near the garden, and Fred went with the others to put it out.  He wouldn’t let me accompany him, but told me to go for my ride in the opposite direction.  I didn’t stay away long.  I had just returned to the bungalow and dismounted and was giving my pony a piece of sugar, when several Bhuttias rushed at me from behind the house and seized me.  Poor Lalla, my syce, tried to keep them off with his bare hands, but one brute struck him on the head with his sword.  The poor boy fell, covered with blood.  I’m afraid he was killed.”