That night as Dermot and Barclay went upstairs together the police officer
said:

"I wonder if they'll dare to try anything against you tonight, Major. I
should say they'd give you a miss in baulk, for they must believe you
invulnerable. Still, I'm going with you to your room to see."

When they reached it and threw open the door a figure half rose from the
floor. Barclay's hand went out to it with levelled pistol, but the words
arrested him.

"_Khodawund!_ (Lord of the World!) Forgive me! I did not know. I did not
know."

It was the treacherous Rama who had tried to lead Dermot to his death. He
lay face to the ground.

"Damned liar!" growled Barclay in English.

"Did not know that thou wert leading me under the feet of the _must_
elephant?" demanded Dermot incredulously.

"Aye, that I knew of course, _Huzoor_. How can I deceive thee? But thee I
knew not; though the elephant Shiva-_ji_ did, even in his madness. It is
not my fault. I am not of this country. I am a man of the Punjaub. I know
naught of the gods of Bengal."

Barclay had heard from the planters the belief in Dermot's divinity which
was universal in their district, and perceived that the legend had reached
this man. He was quick to see the advantages that they could reap from his
superstitious fears. He signed to Dermot to be silent and said in solemn
tones:

"Rama, thou hast grievously offended the gods. Thou knowest the truth at
last?"

"I do, Sahib. The talk through the Palace, aye, throughout the city, is all
of the God of the Elephants, of the Terrible One who feeds his herd of
demons on the flesh of men. The temple of _Gunesh_ will be full indeed
tonight. But alas! I am an ignorant man. I knew not that the holy one took
form among the _gora-logue_ (white folk)."

"The gods know no country. The truth, Rama, the truth," said Barclay
impressively. "Else thou art lost. Shiva-_ji_, mayhap, is hungry and needs
his meal of flesh."

"Ai! sahib, say not so," wailed the terror-stricken man. "He has feasted
well today. With my own eyes I saw him feed on Man Singh the Rajput."

Natives believe that an elephant, when it seizes in its mouth the limbs
of a man that it has killed and is about to tear in pieces, eats his
flesh. In dread of a like doom, of the terrible vengeance of this
mysterious Being, god, man, or demon, perhaps all three, from whom
death shrank aside, whom neither poison of food nor venom of snake could
harm, who used mad, man-slayin