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that this man had threatened all the servants with this weapon, bidding them under pain of death remain in their houses without raising an alarm.

"Do you know Bhutanese?" asked Dermot.

"No, sahib. But he spoke Bengali," replied the servant.

"Spoke it well?"

"No, sahib, not well, but sufficiently for us to understand him."

Another servant, on being questioned, mentioned the curious fact that the man with the revolver conversed with another of the raiders in Bengali. This struck Dermot as being improbable, but others of the servants confirmed the fact. Having gathered all the information that they could give him he went over to look at the dead man.

The syce, or groom, was lying on his back in a pool of blood. He had been struck down by a blow from a sword which seemed to have split the skull. But, on placing his ear to the poor wretch's chest, Dermot thought that he could detect a faint fluttering of the heart. Holding his polished silver cigarette case to the man's mouth he found its brightness slightly clouded.

"Why, he is still living," exclaimed the soldier. "Quick! Bring water."

He hastily applied his flask to the man's lips. Although he grudged the time, Dermot felt that the wounded man's attempt to defend Noreen entitled him to have his wound attended to even before any effort was made to rescue her. So he had the syce carried to his hut, and then, taking out his surgical case, he cleansed and sewed up the gash. But his thoughts were busy with Noreen's peril. The occurrence astonished him. Bhuttias from the hills beyond the border occasionally raided villages and tea-gardens in British territory in search of loot, but were generally careful to avoid Europeans. Such an outrage as the carrying off of an Englishwoman had never been heard of on the North-East Frontier.

There was no time to be lost if the raiders were to be overtaken before they crossed the border. Indeed, with the start that they had, pursuit seemed almost hopeless. Nevertheless, Dermot resolved to attempt it, and single-handed. For he could not wait for the planters to gather, and summoning his men from Ranga Duar was out of the question. He did not consider the odds against him. Had Englishmen stopped to do so in India, the Empire would never have been founded. With his rifle and the prestige of the white race behind him he would not have hesitated to face a hundred such opponents. His blood boiled at the thought of the indignity offered to the girl; though he was not seriously concerned for her safety, judging that she had been carried off for ransom. But he pictured the distress and terror of a delicately nurtured Englishwoman at finding herself in the hands of a band of savage outlaws dragging her away to an unknown and awful fate. She was his friend, and he felt that it was his right as well as his duty to rescue her.

With a grim determination to follow her abductors even to Punaka, the capital of Bhutan, he swung his leg across Badshah's neck and set out, having bade Chunerbutty inform Daleham and the planters that he had started in pursuit.

The raiders had left the garden by a path leading to the north and headed for the mountains. When Dermot got well clear of the bungalow and reached the confines of the estate, he dismounted and examined the ground over which they had passed. In the dust he found the blurred prints of a number of barefooted men and in one place four sharply-defined marks which showed where they had set down the chair in which Noreen was being carried, probably to change the bearers. A mile or two further on the track crossed the dry bed of a small stream. In the sand Dermot noticed to his surprise the heel-mark of a boot among the footprints of the raiders, it being most unusual for Bhuttias to be shod.

As his rider knelt down to examine the tracks, Badshah stretched out his trunk and smelt them as though he understood the object of their mission. And, as soon as Dermot was again on his neck, he moved on at a rapid pace. It was necessary, however, to check constantly to search for the raiders' tracks. The Bhuttias had followed an animal path through the jungle, and Dermot seated on his elephant's neck with loaded rifle across his knees, scanned it carefully and watched the undergrowth on either side, noting here and there broken twigs or freshly-fallen leaves which marked the passage of the chair conveying Noreen. Such signs were generally to be found at sharp turnings of the path. Wherever the ground was soft enough or sufficient dust lay to show impressions he stopped to examine the spot carefully for footprints. Occasionally he detected the sharp marks of the chair-legs or of the boot.

The trial led towards the mountains, as was natural. But after several hours' progress Badshah turned suddenly to the left and endeavoured to continue on towards the west. Dermot was disappointed, for he had persuaded himself that the elephant quite understood the quest and was following the trail. He headed Badshah again towards the north, but with difficulty, for the animal obstinately persisted in trying to go his own way. When Dermot conquered finally they continued towards the mountains. But before long the soldier found that he had lost all traces of the raiding party. He cast around without success and wasted much time in endeavouring to pick up the trail again. At last to his annoyance he was forced to turn back and retrace his steps.

At the spot where the conflict of opinion between him and the elephant had taken place he cast about and found the track again. It led in the direction in which Badshah had tried to take him. The elephant had been wiser than he. Now, with an apologetic pat on the head, Dermot let him follow the new path, wondering at the change of route, for it was only natural to expect that the Bhuttias would have made for the hills by the shortest way to the nearest pass into Bhutan. As the elephant moved along his rider's eye was quick to recognise the traces of the passing of the raiders, where no sign would have been visible to one unskilled in tracking.

All at once Badshah slackened his pace and began to advance with the caution of a tusker stalking an enemy. Confident in the animal's extraordinary intelligence Dermot cocked his rifle. The elephant suddenly turned off the path and moved noiselessly through the undergrowth for a few minutes. Then he stopped on the edge of an open glade in the forest.

Scattered about in it, sitting or lying down half-asleep, were a number of short, sturdy, brown-faced men with close cropped bare heads. Each was clad in a single garment shaped like a Japanese kimono and kilted up to expose thick-calved, muscular bare legs by a girdle from which hung a dah—a short, straight sword. A little apart from them sat Noreen Daleham in a chair in which she was securely fastened and to which long carrying-poles were tied. She was dressed in riding costume and wore a sun-helmet.

The girl was pale, weary, and dejected, and looked so frail and unfitted to cope with so terrifying a situation that a feeling of immense tenderness and an instinctive desire to protect her filled Dermot as he watched her. Then passionate anger welled up in him as he turned his eyes again to her captors; and he longed to make them pay dearly for the suffering that she had endured.

But, despite his rage, he deliberated coolly enough on the best mode of attack, as he counted the number of the raiders. There were twenty-two. The soldier's quick eye instantly detected that one of them, although garbed similarly to the rest, was in features unlike a Bhuttia and had not the sturdy frame of a man of that race. He was wearing shoes and socks and was the only one of the party not carrying a dah.

Dermot's first idea was to open fire suddenly on the raiders and continue firing while moving about in cover from place to place on the edge of the glade, so as to give the impression of a numerous force. But he feared that harm might come to the girl in the fight if any of the Bhuttias carried fire-arms, for they would probably fire wildly, and a stray bullet might hit the girl. So he resolved on a bolder policy. While the raiders, who had put out no sentries, lay about in groups unconscious of the proximity of an enemy, Dermot touched Badshah with his hand, and the elephant broke noiselessly out of the undergrowth and suddenly appeared in their midst.





CHAPTER IX THE RESCUE OF NOREEN

There was a moment's consternation among the Bhuttias. Then they sprang to their feet and began to draw their dahs. But suddenly one cried:

"The demon elephant! The devil man!"

Another and another took up the cry. Then all at once in terror they turned and plunged panic-stricken into the undergrowth. All but two—the wearer of shoes and a man with a scarred face beside him. While the rest fled they stood their ground and called vainly to their companions to come back. When they found themselves deserted the wearer of shoes pulled out a revolver and fired at Dermot, while his scarred comrade drew his sword and ran towards Noreen.

The soldier, ignoring his own danger but fearing for the girl's life, threw his rifle to his shoulder and sent a bullet crashing through her assailant's skull, then with his second barrel he shot the man with the pistol through the heart. The first raider collapsed instantly and fell in a heap, while the other, dropping his weapon, swayed for a moment, staggered forward a few feet, and fell dead.

Only then could Dermot look at Noreen. In the dramatic moment of his appearance the girl had uttered no sound, but sat rigid with her eyes fixed on him. When the swordsman rushed at her she seemed scarcely conscious of her peril but she started in terror and grew deadly pale when his companion fired at her rescuer. When both fell her tension relaxed. She sank back half-fainting in her chair and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again Badshah was kneeling a few yards away and Dermot stood beside her cutting the cords that bound her.

She looked up at him and said simply:

"I knew you would come."

With an affectation of light-heartedness that he was far from feeling he replied laughing:

"Of course you did. I am bound to turn up like the clown in the pantomime, saying, 'Here we are again.' Oh, I forgot. I am a bit late. I should have appeared on the scene when those beggars got to your bungalow."

He pretended to treat the whole affair lightly and made no further allusion to her adventure, asking no questions about it. He was afraid lest she should break down in the sudden relief from the strain and anxiety. But there was no cause to fear it. The girl was quietly brave and imitated his air of unconcern, behaving after the first moment as if they were meeting under the most ordinary circumstances. She smiled, though somewhat feebly, as she said:

"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.

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