The rest chorused: "Have mercy!"
"Spare thy slaves, O Lord!" went on the old man. "Spare us ere all perish. We worship at thy shrine. We grudge not thy elephants our miserable crops. Are they not thy servants? But let not the Striped Death slay all of us."
Dermot questioned him and then explained to Noreen that a man-eating tiger had taken up its residence near the village and was rapidly killing off its inhabitants.
"Oh, do help them," she said. "Can't you shoot it?"
He reflected for a few moments.
"Yes, I think I know how to get it. Will you wait for me in the village?"
"What? Mayn't I go with you to see you kill it? Please let me. I promise I'll not scream or be stupid."
He looked at her admiringly.
"Bravo!" he said. "I'm sure you'll be all right. Very well. I promise you you shall see a sight that not many other women have seen."
He borrowed a puggri—a strip of cotton cloth several yards long—from a villager, and bade them show him where the tiger lay up during the heat of the day. When they had done so from a safe distance, he turned Badshah, and, to Noreen's surprise, sped off swiftly in the opposite direction.