The men and even
most of the boys carried weapons. The Brahmins were leading them. They made
for Chunerbutty's house first. I was going to run to his assistance, when
he came out and they cheered him like anything. He was in native dress and
had marks painted on his forehead like the other Brahmins."
"Yes; go on. What happened then?"
"The engineer seemed as excited and mad as the rest. He ran down his steps,
put himself at the head of the mob, shouted out something, and pointed to
Parry's bungalow. They all rushed over to it, yelling like mad. Poor old
Parr heard them and, dazed and drunk, staggered out on the verandah in his
pyjamas and bare feet. Chunerbutty and the Brahmins came up the steps,
driving back the crowd, which tried to follow them, howling like demons."
Fred passed his hand across his eyes. Dermot bent forward and stared
eagerly at him, while Noreen looked only at the soldier.
"I called out to the engineer and asked him what it all meant," went on the
boy, "but he took no notice of me. Parry tottered towards him, abusing him.
Chunerbutty let him come to within a yard or two, then pulled out a pistol
and fired three shots straight at the old man's heart. Poor old Parr fell
dead."
Daleham paused for a moment.
"Poor old chap! He had his faults; but he had his good points, too. Well,
I rushed towards him, but the Bengalis fell on me, knocked me down, and
overpowered me.
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