Suddenly there was a wild outcry outside. Loud cries, the shouts of men,
the terrifying trumpeting of an elephant, resounded through the courtyard
below and echoed weirdly from the walls of the buildings. A piercing shriek
of agony rang high above the tumult of sound and chilled the blood of the
listeners in the lounge.
Payne tore fiercely at the stiff wooden shutters of the window near him,
which led out to the long balcony. Suddenly they burst open and he sprang
out.
"Good God!" he cried in horror. "Look! Look! Dermot's done for!"
* * * * *
The soldier had followed Rama, who led him through an unfamiliar part of
the Palace along low passages, down narrow winding staircases, through
painted rooms, in some of which female garments flung carelessly on the
cushions seemed to indicate that they were passing through a portion of the
_zenana_. Finally they reached a marble-paved hall on the ground-floor,
where two attendants, the first persons whom they had seen on their way,
lounged near a small door. They were evidently the porters and appeared to
expect them, for they opened the door at Rama's approach. Through it Dermot
followed his guide out into the courtyard on which he had often looked from
the balcony of his room. He looked up at the lounge, two stories above his
head, its long casements shuttered against the heat.
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