ed.

He went--though with no great alacrity--to obey the order he had
received, taking with him a long stick; not that it would have served
him much against the enraged tigress, but it was the only weapon he
possessed. The roars grew louder and louder as he advanced, till after
mounting a flight of steps he started back on finding himself face to
face with the tigress,--some iron bars, however, intervening. Faithful
was evidently in a furious rage. As she saw him she seized one of the
bars in her mouth, while she grasped the two next to it with her
powerful claws, working away to wrench them asunder. Bikoo attempted to
drive her back with his stick, but she utterly disregarded the blows
aimed at her, only stopping a moment to roar and snarl, her loud cries
drowning his voice as he shouted to Khan Cochut to come and shoot her--
which he might very easily have done. Already the bars were seen to
bend, the upper ends coming out of their sockets. Bikoo saw that in
another instant the tigress would be at liberty; so springing down the
steps with a very natural rapidity, fully expecting to be torn to pieces
should he not make haste, and shouting, "The tigress! The tigress is at
my heels!" he rushed into the presence of his master and Khan Cochut.
They, hearing his cries, judged that their safest course would be to
betake themselves to the upper chamber in which they had before been
concealed,--Bikoo following them without asking leave, and only wishing
that they would move somewhat faster. They had just climbed up by means
of some winding steps in the wall, when the tigress, with her mouth and
paws bloody from the exertions she had made, sprang into the courtyard
and looked around, with the apparent intention of taking vengeance on
the person who had so treacherously endeavoured to destroy her. As she
was gazing about, her eye fell on the long nose and sallow visage of
Khan Cochut, who was peering from his hiding-place through a slit in the
wall. She sprang up at him with a suddenness which made him draw back
with considerable rapidity, knocking over the grave Brahmin as he did
so, and sending him sprawling prostrate on the ground. Poor Faithful,
however, missed her aim, and fell backwards in a manner which did not at
all improve her already irritated temper. Up and down the courtyard she
rushed, looking out for an opening; and had not an iron-clamped door
stopped her she would probably have torn the whole party to