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Updated: September 4, 2025
"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.
On her side Noreen at first hardly recognised the quiet-mannered, courteous man that she had first known in the smart, keen, and intelligent soldier such as she found Dermot to be in his own surroundings. Yet she was glad to have seen him in his little world and delighted to watch him with his Indian officers and sepoys, whose liking and respect for him were so evident.
Getting near time we said good-bye. It was jolly good of you to stick by us, when you might have got away last night." Dermot gripped the outstretched hand. "If I go under first, you'll not let Noreen fall alive into the hands of those brutes, will you, sir?" The girl raised her revolver. "I'll keep the last cartridge for myself, dear," she said.
Left with a small income inherited from her mother, Noreen Daleham, who was two years her brother's junior, had gladly given up the dulness of a home with an aunt in a small country town to accompany her brother and keep house for him. To most girls life on an Indian tea-garden would not seem alluring; for they would find themselves far from social gaieties and the society of their kind.
Chunerbutty, kept at the soldier's request in utter ignorance of more than the fact that Noreen had been rescued by him from the raiders, had concluded at first that the crime was what it appeared on the surface a descent of trans-frontier Bhuttias to carry off a white woman for ransom. But when these stories reached the tea-garden villages and eventually came to his ears he was very puzzled.
"I don't know any chum I like better. She always plays the game somehow, doesn't she?" "Rather!" agreed Noreen. "I think the way she's taken her place at Cheverley Chase without cuckooing all that family out, or making them jealous, is just marvelous. If anybody deserves her kingdom, it's Princess Carmel; it's only one in a thousand who could have done what she has."
When they neared the bungalow they saw Daleham standing on the steps of the verandah, waiting for them. He had recognised the futility of struggling with his pony and had returned with it. As they arrived he ran down the steps to meet them. "Good gracious, Noreen, what has happened to you?" he cried, as Badshah stopped in front of the house. "I've been worried to death about you.
"Rebuild it!" was Darsie's instant and daring reply, whereat the farmers' daughters laughed en masse, and the Percivals looked haughtily displeased. "Father built it!" "Awfully good of him! And wicked of his architect. I shan't employ him to build my house!" "I think," said Noreen loftily, "that we had better confine ourselves to discovering the scheme of decoration.
He seemed to think I should lose either myself or my luggage at Sheasby Junction, and it is a horrid place to change. You never can get hold of a porter, and you don't know which platform you'll start from." "How are you going home, Lilias?" asked Noreen, who with several other girls had joined the group at the fire.
At a word from him Badshah knelt. He hurriedly threw the pad on the elephant's back and made him rise so that the surcingle rope could be fixed. Then he brought the animal to his knees again and lifted Noreen on to the pad.
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