Pushed off by Swinton, he collapsed in a chair, weeping in the relief of his terror.
The baboo's prodigal gratitude had obliterated a companion who had followed him from the room. Now the latter stood in the radiancy of Lord Victor's lantern, saying: "Baboo Lall Mohun Dass has been awed by a large tiger, but we have beat the cat off."
The speaker was a slim, very dark half-caste clad in white trousers and jaran coat.
"It is Mr. Perreira." And Baboo Dass stopped sobbing while he made this momentous announcement.
"What's all the outcry about, baboo?" the captain asked.
"Sar," Baboo Dass answered, "I will narrative from the beginning: I am coming from Calcutta to-day, and Mr. Perreira is old friend, college chum, he is come here to spend evening in familiar intercourse. We are talking too late of pranks we execute against high authority in college. Kuda be thanked! I have close the window because reading that mosquito bring malaria—ugh!" With a yell the baboo sprang to his feet; Perreira, leaning against the centre table, had knocked off a metal ornament. "Excuse me, masters, I am upset by that debased tiger." He collapsed into a chair.
"What happened?" Swinton queried sharply, for his feet were beginning to sting from the trip over the gravel.
"We hear mysterious noise—tap, tap; some spirit is tickle the window. I look, and there, masters, spying at me is some old fellow of evil countenance; like a guru, with grey whiskers and big horn spectacles. But his eyes—O Kuda! Very brave I stand up and say, 'Go away, you old reprobate!' because he is prying."
"Oh, my aunt!" Gilfain muttered.
"Then that old villain that is an evil spirit changes himself into a tiger and grins at me. Fangs like a shark has got—horrible! I call loudly for help because I have not firearms. Then I hear my lord's voice out here in the room and I am saved."