Dermot took off his hat in acknowledgment of the cheers and, seeing the
Hindu engineer shrinking behind the others with an expression of amazed
terror on his face, called to him:
"Would you kindly send one of your friends to open the door, Mr.
Chunerbutty? It seems to have got shut by some unfortunate accident."
He brought the elephant to its knees and dismounted. Then as it rose he
pointed to the gateway and said in the _mahout's_ tongue:
"Return to your stall."
The animal walked away submissively. The two surviving natives shrank
against the buildings in deadly fear, but the animal disappeared quietly.
Dermot went to the door and waited. Soon he heard the key turned in the
lock and the rusty bolts drawn back. The door was then flung open by one of
the porters, while the others huddled against the wall, for Barclay stood
in front of them with a pistol raised. He sprang forward and seized
Dermot's hand.
"Heaven and earth! How are you alive?" he cried. "I thought the devils had
got you this time. I was tempted to shoot these swine here for being so
long in opening the door."
There was a clatter of boots on the marble floor, as Payne and Granger,
followed by the rest of the Englishmen, ran up the hall, cheering. They
crowded round Dermot, nearly shook his arm off, thumped him on the back,
and overwhelmed him with congratulations.
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