Then he noticed that
in none of the buildings surrounding the court were there any windows lower
than the second story, and the only entrance into it from the Palace was
the small door through which he had just passed. Almost at the moment he
stepped into the courtyard a familiar sound greeted his ears. It was the
trumpeting of an elephant. But there was a strange note of rage and
excitement in it, and he thought of the remarks of the _mahouts_ the
previous day on the return from the _Moti Mahal_. Probably the _must_
elephant of which they spoke was chained somewhere close by.
As he crossed the courtyard he chanced to glance up at the shuttered
windows of the apartments which he had been told were occupied by the
Rajah. At that moment one of them was opened and a white cloth waved from
it by an unseen hand. He wondered was it a signal. He stooped to fasten a
bootlace, and Rama, who was making for the gateway in the high wall forming
the fourth side of the courtyard, called impatiently to him to hasten. The
servant's tone was impertinent, and Dermot looked up in surprise.
Then suddenly Hell broke loose. From the direction in which they were
proceeding came fierce shouts of men, yells of terror, and the angry
trumpeting of an elephant mingled with the groaning of iron dragged over
stone and the crashing of splintered wood.
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