Her brother refused to allow Dermot to relieve him on watch,
saying that he could not sleep or rest, and begging him instead to remain
with the girl to cheer her, to hearten her in the awful hours of waiting
for the end.
So Dermot was with her when a sudden uproar outside caused him to dash out
on to the verandah. From behind the barricade on the front verandah Daleham
was watching.
"What is it? Are they attacking?" cried the soldier.
"No. It's not an attack. They're cheering somebody, I think, and firing
into the air."
Dermot stared out. Men ran forward to the smouldering ruins of the factory
and threw on them tins of kerosene oil, looted from the murdered Parsi's
shop, until the flames blazed up again and lit up the scene. The hundreds
of coolies were cheering and crowding round a body of men in red coats.
"I believe it's the Rajah's infantry," said Dermot. "Are they going to
attack? Sher Afzul, wake up the others and tell them to be on their guard.
Give me that rifle, Daleham."
So Noreen did not see her lover again until the sun rose on a scene of
desolation and ruin. Smoke and sparks still came from the blackened heaps
of the destroyed buildings. The cordon of sentries had apparently been
withdrawn; but when Daleham climbed up on the barricade to get a better
view a shot was fired from somewhere and a bullet tore up the ground before
the bungalow.
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