[1] dominion.
The fanatic’s voice rose to a wild shriek as he concluded the harangue. Ted could not follow the speech: he could only gather from the tone and gestures that he and his companion were the objects of abuse, and he guessed from the half-angry, half-cringing manner of the tradesman that something serious was being said. Ethel, however, understood every word, and was alarmed.
They tried to leave the bazar, but found their progress barred.
“Out of the way, there!” the ensign commanded, but no one moved.
“Kill the kafir pigs!—there is no one to see!” called out a voice from the rear.
“No, no!” objected others hastily. “What harm have they done? And will not the vengeance of the Whites be upon us all? Make way there for the sahib-log!”
But another of the bhang-drugged fanatics, who had been swaying to and fro in his delirium, screamed:
“Aye! Why not kill now?” and he roughly seized the white-faced girl.
With a savage exclamation the English boy sprang forward and struck the speaker behind the ear with all his force. Not for nothing had Edward Russell been trained in gymnastics, in boxing and fencing—the fellow dropped like a log. But before Ted could turn or draw his sword the mullah had plucked a knife from beneath his scanty garment and plunged it in the lad’s side.
“Die, unbeliever!” he cried.