THE PALACE OF DEATH
When they reached the door of the police officer's apartment Dermot wished
him good-night and proceeded down the passage, which was lit only by a
feeble lamp placed in a niche high up in the wall. He had to grope his way
through the outer chambers by the aid of matches, and when he reached his
room, was surprised to find it in darkness, for he had left a light burning
in it. He struck more matches, and was annoyed to discover that his lamp
had been taken away. Being very tired he felt inclined to undress and go to
bed in the dark, but, suddenly remembering the small light in the passage,
determined to fetch it. Making his way back to the passage he tried to take
the little lamp down. But it was too high up, and the noise that he made in
his efforts to reach it brought Barclay to his door.
When he heard of Dermot's difficulty he said:
"I'm not sleepy yet, Major, so I'll bring my lamp along to your room and
smoke a cheroot while you undress. Then I'll go off with it as soon as
you've turned in."
Dermot thanked him, and the young policeman went with him, carrying the
lamp, which had a double wick and gave a good light. Putting it down on the
dressing-table he lit a cheroot and proceeded to seat himself in a chair
beside the bed. Like the room itself and the rest of the furniture, it was
covered with dust.
"By George, what dirty quarters they've given you, sir," he exclaimed.
"Just look at the floor. I'll bet it's never been swept since the Palace
was built. The dust is an inch deep near the bed." He polished the seat of
the chair carefully before he sat down.
The heat in the room was stifling, and the police officer, even in his
white mess uniform, felt it acutely.
"By Jove, it's steamy tonight," he remarked, wiping his face.
"Yes, I hate October," replied Dermot. "It's the worst month in the year, I
think. Its damp heat, when the rain is drying up out of the ground, is more
trying than the worst scorching we get in May and June."
"Well, you don't seem to find it too hot, Major," said the other laughing.
"It looks as if you'd got a hot-water bottle in the foot of your bed."
"Hot-water bottle? What do you mean?" asked Dermot in surprise, throwing
the collar that he had just taken off on to the dressing-table and turning
round.
"Why, don't you see? Under the clothes at the foot," said his companion,
pointing with the Major's cane to a bulge in the thin blanket and sheet
covering the bed. He got up and strode across to it. "What on earth have
you got there? It does look--Oh, good heavens, keep back!" he cried
suddenly.
Dermot was already bending over the bed, but the police officer pushed him
forcibly back and snatched up the cane which he had laid down. Then,
cautiously seizing the top of the blanket and sheet near the pillow, he
whisked them off with a sudden vigorous jerk. At the spot where the bulge
had betrayed it a black cobra, one of the deadliest snakes in India, lifted
its head and a foot of its length from its shining coils. The forked tongue
darted and quivered incessantly, and the unwinking eyes glistened as with a
loud hiss it raised itself higher and poised its head to strike.
Barclay struck it sharply with the cane, and it fell writhing on the bed,
its spine broken. The coils wound and unwound vigorously, the tail
convulsively lashing the sheet. He raised the stick to strike it again,
but, paused with arm uplifted, for the snake could not move away or raise
its head.
Seeing that it was powerless the young Superintendent swung round to
Dermot.
"Have you a pistol, Major?" he whispered.
Without a word the soldier unlocked his despatch-box and took out a small
automatic.
"Loaded?"
The soldier nodded.
"Give it to me."
Taking the weapon he tiptoed to the door, listened awhile, then opened it
sharply. But there was no one there.
"Bring the lamp," he whispered.
Dermot complied, and together they searched the ante-rooms and passages.
They were empty. Then they looked into the small room in which the zinc
bath-tub stood. There was no one there.
The Deputy Superintendent closed the door again, and, as it had neither
lock nor bolt, placed a heavy chair against it. Taking the lamp in his hand
he bent down and carefully examined the dusty floor under and around the
bed. Then he put down the lamp and drew Dermot into the centre of the room.
"Has your servant any reason to dislike you?" he asked in a low voice.
Dermot answered him in the same tone:
"I have not brought one with me."
The D.S.P. whistled faintly, then looked apprehensively round the room and
whispered:
"Have you any enemies in the Palace or in Lalpuri?"
Dermot smiled.
"Very probably," he replied. Then in a low voice he continued: "Look here,
Barclay, do you know anything of the state of affairs in this province? I
mean, politically."
The police officer nodded.
"I do. I'm here in Lalpuri to try to find out things. The root of the
trouble in Bengal is here."
"Then I can tell you that I have been sent on a special mission to the
border and have come to this city to try to follow up a clue."
The D.S.P. drew a deep breath.
"That accounts for it. Look here, Major, I've seen this trick with the
snake before. Not long ago I tried to hang the servant of a rich _bunniah_
for murdering his master by means of it, but the Sessions Judge wouldn't
convict him. If you look you'll see that that brute"--he pointed to the
cobra writhing in agony on the bed and sinking its fangs into its own
flesh--"never got up there by itself. It was put there. Otherwise it would
have left a clear trail in the thick dust on the floor, but there isn't a
sign."
"Yes, I spotted that," said Dermot, lighting a cigarette over the lamp
chimney. "I see the game. My lamp--which was here, for I dressed for dinner
by its light--was taken away, so that I'd have to go to bed in the dark;
and, by Jove, I very nearly did! Then I'd have kicked against the cobra as
I got in, and been bitten. The lamp would have been put back in the morning
before I was 'found.' Look here, Barclay, I owe you a lot. Without you I'd
be dead in two hours."
"Or less. Sometimes the bite is fatal in forty minutes. Yes, there's no
doubt of it, you'd have been done for. Lucky thing I hadn't gone to bed and
heard you. Now, what'll we do with the brute?"
He looked at the writhing snake.
"Wait a minute. Where are the matches?"
He picked up a box from the dressing-table, moved the chair from the door
and left the room. In a minute or two he returned, carrying an old
porcelain vase, and shut the door.
"I found this stuck away with a lot of rubbish in the outer room," he said.
"I don't suppose any one will miss it."
Dermot watched him with curiosity as he placed the vase on the floor near
the bed and picked up the cane. Putting its point under the cobra he lifted
the wriggling body on the stick and with some difficulty dropped the snake
into the vase, where they heard its head striking the sides with furious
blows.
"I hope it won't break the damned thing just when I'm carrying it," he
said, regarding the vase anxiously.
"What are you doing that for?" asked Dermot.
The police officer lowered his voice.
"Well, Major, we don't want these would-be murderers to know how their
trick failed. That's the reason I didn't pound the brute to a jelly on the
bed, for it would have made such a mess on the sheet. Now there isn't a
speck on it. I'll take the vase with me into my room and finish the cobra
off. In the morning I'll get rid of its body somehow. When these devils
find tomorrow that you're not dead, they'll be very puzzled. Now, the
question is, what are you going to do?"
"Going to bed," answered Dermot, continuing to undress. "There's nothing
else to be done at this hour, is there?"
The police officer looked at him with admiration.
"By George, sir, you've got pluck. If it were I, I'd want to sit up all
night with a pistol."
"Not you. Otherwise you wouldn't be in the place at all. Besides you are
qualifying for delicate little attentions like this." And Dermot flicked
the ash of his cigarette into the vase in which the cobra still writhed and
twisted.
"Oh, well, they haven't tumbled to me yet," said the young police officer,
making light of his own courage. "I suppose you won't make any fuss about
this?"
"Of course not. We've got no proof against any one."
"But do you think it wise for you to stay on here, sir? They'll only try
again."
Dermot lit a fresh cigarette.
"Well, it can't be helped. It's all in the day's work. I'm due to stay here
two days more, and I'm damned if I'm going to move before then. As you
know, it doesn't do to show these people the white feather. Besides, I'm
rather interested to see what they'll try next."
"You're a cool hand, Major. Well, since you look at it that way, there's
nothing more to be said. I see you're ready for bed, so I'll take my lamp
and bit of pottery, and trek."
"Oh, just one moment, Barclay." Dermot sank his voice. "Did you notice the
Rajah's catch-'em-alive-ohs on sentry?"
"You mean his soldiers? No, I can't say I did."
"Well, just have a look at them tomorrow. I want to have a talk with you
about them."
"I'd like to strip these bed-clothes off. I don't fancy them after the
snake. Luckily it's so hot that one doesn't want even a sheet tonight. Let
me see if there's another cobra under the pillow. It's said that they
generally go about in pairs." He turned over the pillow. "No; that's all
right."
"Hold on a minute," whispered Barclay, raising the lamp above his head with
his left hand. "Let's see if there's any concealed entrance to the room. I
daresay these old palaces are full of secret passages and masked doors."
He sounded the walls and floors and examined them carefully.
"Seems all right. I'll be off now. Good-night, Major. I hope you'll not be
disturbed. If there's any trouble fire a shot and I'll be here in two
shakes. I've got a pistol, and by Jingo I'll have it handy tonight. Keep
yours ready, too."
"I shall. Now a thousand thanks for your help, Barclay," said the soldier,
shaking his friend's hand.
Then he closed the door behind the police officer and by the light of a
match piled chairs against it. Then he lay down on the bed, put the pistol
under the edge of the mattress and ready to his hand, and fell asleep at
once.
Early in the morning he was aroused by a vigorous knocking and heard
Barclay's voice outside the door.
"Are you all right, Major?" it said.
"Yes, thanks. Good-morning," replied the soldier. "Come in. No, wait a
minute."
He jumped out of bed and removed the barricade. Barclay entered in his
pyjamas. Lowering his voice he said:
"Anything happen during the night?"
"I don't think so. I slept soundly and heard nothing. You're up early,"
replied the soldier, picking up the blankets and sheets from the floor and
spreading them carelessly on the bed to make it look as if he had used
them.
"Yes; those infernal birds make such a confounded row. It's like being in
an aviary," said Barclay.
Dermot threw open the wooden shutters. Outside the window was a small
balcony. On the roofs and verandahs of the Palace scores of grey-hooded
crows were perched, filling the air with discordant sounds. Up in the pale
blue sky the wheeling hawks whistled shrilly. Down in the courtyard below
yellow-beaked _mynas_ chattered volubly.
"Don't they make a beastly row? How is a fellow to sleep?" grumbled
Barclay. "Look at that cheeky beggar."
A hooded crow perched on the railing of the balcony and, apparently
resenting his remarks, cawed defiantly at him. The Deputy Superintendent
picked up one of Dermot's slippers and was about to hurl it at the bird,
when a voice from the doorway startled him.
"_Char, Huzoor!_ (Tea, Your Excellency!)"
He looked round. One of the Palace servants stood at the door holding a
tray containing tea and buttered toast.
Dermot directed the man to put the tray on the dressing-table, and when the
servant had salaamed and left the room, he walked over to it and looked at
the food.
"Now, is it safe to eat that?" he said. "I've no fear of the grub they
serve in the dining-hall, for they wouldn't dare to poison us all. But
somehow I have my doubts about any nice little meal prepared exclusively
for me."
"I think you're right there, Major," said Barclay, who was sitting on the
edge of the bed.
"We'll see. There isn't the usually handy pi-dog to try it on. But we'll
make use of our noisy friend here. He won't be much loss to the world if it
poisons him," and Dermot broke off a piece of the toast and threw it on the
floor of the balcony. The crow stopped his cawing, cocked his head on one
side, and eyed the tempting morsel. Buttered toast did not often come his
way. He dropped down on to the balcony floor, hopped over to the toast,
pecked at it, picked it up in his strong beak, and flew with it to the roof
of the building opposite. In silence the two men watched him devour it.
"That seems all right, Major," said the police officer. "You've made him
your friend for life. He's coming back for more."
The crow perched on the rail again and cawed loudly.
"Oh, shut up, you greedy bird. Here's another bit for you. That's all
you'll have. I want the rest myself," said Dermot, laughing. He broke off
another piece and threw it out on to the balcony.
The crow looked at it, ruffled its feathers, shook itself--and then fell
heavily to the floor of the balcony and lay still.
"Good heavens! What an escape!" ejaculated Barclay, suddenly pale.
The two men stared at each other and the dead bird in silence. Then Dermot
murmured:
"This is getting monotonous. Hang it! They _are_ in a hurry. Why, they
couldn't even know whether I was alive or not. If the snake trick had come
off, I'd be a corpse now and this nice little meal would have been wasted.
Really, they are rather crowding things on me."
"They're taking no chances, the devils," said the younger man, who was more
upset by the occurrence than his companion.
"Well, I'll have to do without my _chota hazri_; and I do like a cup of tea
in the morning," said the soldier; and he began to shave. Glancing out of
the window he continued: "They've got a fine day for the show anyway."
Barclay sprang up from the chair on which he had suddenly sat down. His
nerve was shaken by the two attempts on his companion's life.
"Damn them and their shows, the infernal murderers," he muttered savagely,
and rushed out of the room.
"Amen!" said Dermot, as he lathered his face. Death had been near him too
often before for him to be disturbed now. So he went on shaving.
Before he left the room he poured tea into the cup on the tray and got rid
of the rest of the toast, to make it appear that he had freely partaken of
the meal. He wrapped up the dead crow in paper and locked it in his
despatch-case, until he could dispose of it that evening after dark.
Noreen had slept little during the night. All through the weary hours of
darkness she had tossed restlessly on her bed, tortured by thoughts that
revolved in monotonous circles around Dermot. What was she to believe of
him? What were the relations between him and her friend? He had seemed very
cold to Ida when they met and had avoided her all day. And she did not
appear to mind. What had happened between them? Had they quarrelled? It did
not disturb Ida's rest, for the girl could hear her regular breathing all
night long, the door between their rooms being open. Was it possible that
she and Dermot were acting indifference to deceive the people around them?
Only towards morning did Noreen fall into a troubled, broken sleep, and she
dreamt that the man she loved was in great danger. She woke up in a fright,
then dozed again. She was hollow-eyed and unrefreshed when a bare-footed
native "boy" knocked at her door and left a tray with her _chota hazri_ at
it. She could not eat, but she drank the tea thirstily.
Pleading fatigue she remained in her room all the morning and refused to go
down to _tiffin_. When the other guests were at lunch in the dining-hall a
message was brought her that Chunerbutty begged to see her urgently. She
went down to the lounge, where he was waiting. Struck by her want of
colour, he enquired somewhat tenderly what ailed her. She replied
impatiently that she was only fatigued by the previous day's journey, and
asked rather crossly why he wanted to see her.
"I have something nice for you," he said smiling. "Something I was to give
you."
Glancing around to make sure that they were unobserved, he opened a
sandalwood box that he held in his hand and took out a large, oval
leather case, which he offered to her.
"What is this?" she asked in surprise.
"Open it and see," he replied.
The girl did so unsuspectingly. It was lined with blue velvet, and resting
in it was a necklace of diamonds in quaint and massive gold setting,
evidently the work of a native jeweller. The stones, though badly cut, were
very large and flashed and sparkled with coloured fires. The ornament was
evidently extremely valuable. Noreen stared at it and then at Chunerbutty
in surprise.
"What does this mean?" she demanded, an ominous ring in her voice.
"Just a little present to you from a friend," replied the Hindu, evidently
thinking that the girl was pleased with the magnificent gift.
"For me? Are these stones real?" she asked quietly.
"Rather. Why, that necklace must be worth thousands of pounds. The fact is
that it's a little present from the Rajah, who admires you awfully. He----"
Noreen's eyes blazed, and she was on the point of bursting into angry
words; but, controlling herself with an effort, she thrust the case back
into his hands and said coldly:
"You know little of English women, Mr. Chunerbutty, if you think that they
accept presents like that from strangers. This may be the Rajah's
ignorance, but it looks more like insolence."
She turned to go; but, stopping her, he said:
"Oh, but you don't understand. He's a great friend of mine and he knows
that I'm awfully fond of you, little girl. So he's ready to do anything for
us and give me a----"
She walked past him, her eyes blazing with anger, with so resolute an air
that he drew back and watched her go. She went straight to her room and
remained there until Ida came to tell her that it was time to dress for the
celebration of the Puja festival.
* * * * *
In the outer courtyard of the Palace six of the Rajah's State elephants,
their tusks gilded and foreheads gaudily painted, caparisoned with rich
velvet housings covered with heavy gold embroidery trailing almost to the
ground, bearing on their backs gold or silver howdahs fashioned in the
shape of temples, awaited the European guests. Chunerbutty, when allotting
positions as Master of Ceremonies, took advantage of his position to
contrive that Noreen should accompany him on the elephant on which he was
to lead the line. The girl discovered too late that they were to be alone
on it, except for the _mahout_ on its neck. Dermot and Barclay managed to
be together on another animal.
When all were in position in the howdahs, to which they climbed by ladders,
the gates were thrown open, and through a mob of salaaming retainers the
elephants emerged with stately tread on the great square in front of the
Palace and proceeded through the city. The houses were gaily decorated.
Flags and strips of coloured cloth fluttered from every building; gaudy
carpets and embroideries hung from the innumerable balconies and windows.
The elephants could scarcely force a passage through the narrow streets, so
crowded were they with swarms of men, women, and children in holiday
attire, all going in one direction. Their destination was the park of the
_Moti Mahal_ or Pearl Palace, the Rajah's summer residence outside the
walls of the city.
There the enormous crowd was kept back by red-robed retainers armed with
_tulwars_--native curved swords--leaving clear a wide stretch of open
ground, in the centre of which on a gigantic altar was the image of the
Goddess Kali. Before it a magnificent bull was firmly secured by chains and
ropes to stout posts sunk deep in the earth. The animal's head drooped and
it could hardly stand up, for it had been heavily drugged for the day's
ceremony and was scarcely conscious.
The Rajah's army was drawn up in line fronting the altar, but some distance
away from it. Two old muzzle-loading nine-pounder guns, their teams of
powerful bullocks lying contentedly behind on the grass, formed the right
of the line. Then came the cavalry, consisting of twenty _sowars_ on
squealing white stallions with long tails dyed red. Left of them was the
infantry, two hundred sepoys in shakoes, red coatees, white trousers, and
bare feet, leaning on long percussion-capped muskets with triangular
bayonets.
Shortly after the Europeans had arrived and their elephants taken up their
position on one side of the ground, cheering announced the coming of the
Rajah. The cannons were discharged by slow matches and the infantrymen,
raising their muskets, fired a ragged volley into the air. Then towards the
altar of Kali the Rajah was seen approaching in a long gilded car shaded by
a canopy of cloth-of-gold and drawn by an enormous elephant, richly
caparisoned. Two gold-laced, scarlet-clad servants were perched on the back
of the car, waving large peacock-feather fans over their monarch. A line of
carriages followed, conveying the _Dewan_, the Durbar officials, the
Ministers of the State and the leading nobles of Lalpuri. After the first
volley, which scattered the horses of the cavalry, the artillery and
infantry loaded and fired independently as fast as their antiquated weapons
permitted, until the air was filled with smoke and the acrid smell of
gunpowder.
The Rajah, hemmed in by spearmen with levelled points and followed by all
his suite with drawn swords, timidly approached the bull, _tulwar_ in hand.
The animal was too dazed to lift its head. The Rajah raised his gleaming
blade and struck at the nape of its neck, and at the same moment two
swordsmen hamstrung it. Immediately the _Dewan_, Ministers, and nobles
crowded in and hacked at the wretched beast as it lurched and fell heavily
to the ground. The warm blood spurted out in jets and covered the officials
and nobles as they cut savagely at the feebly struggling carcase, and the
red liquid splashed the Rajah as he stood gloating over the gaping wounds
and the sufferings of the poor sacrifice, his heavy face lit up by a
ghastly grin of delight.
The horrible spectacle shocked and disgusted the European spectators. Ida
nearly fainted, and Mrs. Rice turned green. Noreen shuddered at
Chunerbutty's fiendish and bestial expression, as he leaned forward in the
howdah, his face working convulsively, his eyes straining to lose no detail
of the repulsive sight. He was enjoying it, like the excited, enthralled
mobs of Indians of all ages around, who pressed forward, gradually pushing
back the line of retainers struggling to keep the ground.
Suddenly the swarming thousands broke loose. They surged madly forward,
engulfing and sweeping the soldiers along with them, and rushed on the
dying bull. They fought savagely to reach it. Those who succeeded threw
themselves on the quivering carcase and with knives or bare hands tore
pieces of still living flesh from it and thrust them into their mouths.
Then, blooded to the eyes, they raised their reddened arms aloft, while
from thousands of throats rang out the fanatical cry:
"_Kali Ma ki jai!_ (Victory to Mother Kali!)"
They surged around the altar. The Rajah was knocked down and nearly
trampled on by the maddened, hysterical crowd. _Dewan_, Ministers,
officials, guards were hustled and swept aside. The cavalry commander saw
his ruler's danger and collecting a dozen of his _sowars_ charged the
religious-mad mob and rescued the Rajah from his dangerous position, riding
down and sabring men, women, and children, the fierce stallions savaging
everyone within reach with their bared teeth.
Chunerbutty, in whom old racial instincts were rekindled, had scarcely been
able to restrain himself from climbing down and joining in the frenzied
rush on the bull. But the turn of events sobered him and induced him to
listen at last to Noreen's entreaties and angry demands from the Englishmen
who bade him order the _mahouts_ to take the visitors away from the
horrible spectacle. As they left they saw the Rajah's golden chariot and
the carriages of the officials being driven helter-skelter across the grass
with their blood-stained and terrified occupants. And the madly fanatical
crowds surged wildly around the altar, while their cries to Kali rent the
air.
The elephants lumbered swiftly in file through the deserted city, for it
was now emptied of its inhabitants. Merchants, traders, shopkeepers,
workers, harlots, and criminals, all had flocked to the _Moti Mahal_ to
witness the sacrifice.
As they entered the Palace gates the _mahout_ of the animal carrying
Barclay, Dermot, and two planters called to a native standing idly in the
courtyard:
"Why wert thou not out with thy elephant, Ebrahim?"
The man addressed, a grey-bearded Mussulman, replied:
"Shiva-_ji_ is bad today. I fear him greatly."
"Is it the madness of the _dhantwallah_?"
"It is the madness."
And the speaker cracked his finger-joints to avert evil luck.
Dinner was not a very jovial meal among the English guests that night. Much
to their relief the Rajah did not come in to them. The ladies retired early
to their rooms, and the men were not long in following their example.
Barclay and Dermot, who were the only occupants of the floor on which their
rooms were situated--it was the top one of the wing--went upstairs
together. At the Deputy Superintendent's door a man squatted and, as they
approached, rose, and saluted them in military fashion. It was Barclay's
police orderly.
"Hast got it?" asked his master in the vernacular.
"I have got it, Sahib. It is here," and the man placed a small covered
basket in his hands.
"_Bahut atcha. Ruksat hai_" (very good. You have leave to go), said his
officer, using the ordinary Indian formula for dismissing a subordinate.
"Salaam, Sahib."
The orderly saluted and went away down the passage.
"Wait a moment, Major; I'm going with you to your room," said the Deputy
Superintendent, opening his door. "Do you mind bringing my light along, as
yours may be gone again. My hands are full with this basket."
When they reached Dermot's apartment they found a lamp burning feebly in
it, smoking, and giving little light.
"Looks as if there's a fresh game on tonight," said Dermot in a low voice.
"This is not the lamp I had before dinner. That was a large and brilliant
one. I'm glad we brought yours along."
"Barricade the door, Major," whispered Barclay. "Are the shutters closed?
Yes; that's all right."
"What have you got in that mysterious basket?" his companion asked.
"You'll see presently."
He set it down on the floor and raised the lid. A small, sharp-muzzled head
with fierce pink eyes popped up and looked about suspiciously. Then its
owner climbed cautiously out on to the floor. It was a slim, long-bodied
little animal like a ferret, with a long, furry tail.
"Hullo! A mongoose? You think they'll try the same trick again?" asked
Dermot.
He glanced at the bed and picked up his cane.
"Just stand still, Major, and watch. If there's anything in the snake line
about our young friend here will attend to it."
The mongoose trotted forward for a few steps, then sat down and scratched
itself. It rose, yawned, stretched its legs, and looked up at the two men,
betraying no fear of them. Then it lifted its sharp nose into the air,
sniffed, and pattered about the room, stopping to smell the legs of the
dressing-table and a cap of Dermot's lying on the floor. It investigated
several rat-holes at the bottom of the walls and approached the bed. Under
it a pair of the soldier's slippers were lying. The mongoose, passing by
them, turned to smell them. Suddenly it sprang back, leaping a couple of
feet into the air. When it touched the floor it crouched with bared teeth,
the hair on its back bristling and its tail fluffed out until it was bigger
than the body of the fierce little animal.
"By Jove, it has found something!" exclaimed Barclay.
The two men leant forward and watched intently. The mongoose approached the
slippers again in a series of bounds, jumped around them, crouched, and
then sprang into the air again.
Suddenly there was a rush and a scurry. The mongoose had pounced on one
slipper and was shaking it savagely, beating it on the floor, rolling over
and over and leaping into the air with it. Its movements were so rapid that
for a few moments the watchers could distinguish nothing in the miniature
cyclone of slipper and ball of fluffy hair inextricably mingled. Then there
was a pause. The mongoose stood still, then backed away with stiffened
legs, its sharp teeth fixed in the neck of a small snake about ten inches
long, which it was trying to drag out of the slipper.
"Good heavens! This is worse than last night," cried Barclay. "It's a
_karait_."
This reptile is almost more poisonous than a cobra, and, as it is thin and
rarely exceeds twelve inches in length, it can hide anywhere and is an even
deadlier menace in a house.
The mongoose backed across the room, dragging the snake and with it the
slipper.
"Why the deuce doesn't it pull the _karait_ out?" said Dermot, bending down
to look more closely, as the mongoose paused. "By George! Look at this,
Barclay. The snake's fastened to the inside of the slipper by a loop and a
bit of thin wire."
"What a devilish trick!" cried Barclay.
"Well, I hope that concludes the entertainment for tonight," said Dermot.
"Enough is as good as a feast."
When next morning the servant brought in his tray, Dermot was smoking a
cigarette in an easy chair, and he fancied that there was a scared
expression in the man's eyes, as the fellow looked covertly at the slippers
on the Major's feet.