Everywhere he
heard the same story. All the planters were convinced that the heart and
the brain of the disaffection was to be found in Malpura. So Dermot
determined to return there and expose the whole matter to Fred Daleham at
last, charging him on his loyalty not to give the faintest inkling to
Chunerbutty.
A delay in the advent of the rain, which falls earlier in the district of
the Himalayan foothills than elsewhere in India, had rendered the jungle
very dry. Consequently when Dermot on Badshah's neck emerged from it on to
the garden of Malpura, he was not surprised to see at the far end of the
estate a column of smoke which told of a forest fire. The wide, open
stretch of the plantation was deserted, probably, so Dermot concluded,
because all the coolies had been collected to beat out the flames. But, as
he neared the Daleham's bungalow, he saw a crowd of them in front of it.
Before the verandah steps a group surrounded something on the ground, while
the servants were standing together talking to a man in European clothes,
whom Dermot, when he drew nearer, recognised as Chunerbutty.
The group near the steps scattered as he approached, and Dermot saw that
the object on the ground was a native lying on his back, covered with blood
and apparently dead.
Chunerbutty rushed forward. He was evidently greatly agitated.
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