There was a frantic rush down the verandah steps.
"Hurrah! it's the Major," cried a planter.
"And—and—yes, Miss Daleham's with him. Hooray!" yelled another.
"Good old Dermot!" came in Payne's voice.
Through the throng of shouting, excited men the girl's brother broke.
"Noreen! Noreen! My God, are you there? Are you safe?" he cried frantically.
Almost before Badshah sank to the ground, the girl, with a little sob, sprang into her brother's arms and clung to him, while Dermot was dragged off the pad by the eager hands of a dozen men who thumped him on the back, pulled him from one to another, and nearly shook his arm off. The servants had brought out lamps to light up the scene.
From the verandah steps Chunerbutty looked jealously on. He had been relieved at knowing that the girl had returned, but in his heart he cursed the man who had saved her. He was roughly thrust aside by Parry, who dashed up the steps, ran into the house, and emerged a minute later holding a large tumbler in his hand.
"Where is he, where is he? Look you, I know what he wants. Here's what will do you good, Major," he shouted.
Dermot laughed and, taking the tumbler, drank its contents gratefully, though their strength made him cough, for the bibulous Celt had mixed it to his own taste.