Tessa suddenly turned and sat down.  “My shoe is undone,” she said, extending her foot with a royal air.  “Where is the prince?”

The words were hardly out of her mouth before another sound escaped her which she hastily caught back as though instinct had stifled it in her throat.  “Look!” she gasped.

Peter was nearest to her.  He had bent to release Scooter, but like a streak of light he straightened himself.  He saw—­before any one else had time to realize—–­ the hideous thing that writhed in momentary entanglement in the folds of Tessa’s cloak, and then suddenly reared itself upon her lap as she sat frozen stiff with horror.

He stooped over the child, his hands outspread, waiting for the moment to swoop.  “Missy sahib, not move—­not move!” he said softly above her.  “My missy sahib not going to be hurt.  Peter taking care of Missy sahib.”

And, with glassy eyes fixed and white lips rigid, Tessa’s strained whisper came in answer.  “O Lord, don’t let it bite me!”

Tommy would have flung himself forward then, but Bernard caught and held him.  He had seen the look in the Indian’s eyes, and he knew beyond all doubting that Tessa was safe, if any human power could make her so.

Stella knew it also.  In that moment Peter loomed gigantic to her.  His gleaming eyes and strangely smiling face held her spellbound with a fascination greater even than that wicked, vibrating thing that coiled, black and evil, on the white of Tessa’s frock could command.  She knew that if none intervened, Peter would accomplish Tessa’s deliverance.

But there was one factor which they had all forgotten.  In those tense seconds Scooter the mongoose by some means invisible became aware of the presence of the enemy.  The lid of his box had already been loosened by Peter.  With a frantic effort he forced it up and leapt free.

In that moment Peter, realizing that another instant’s delay might be fatal, pounced forward with a single swift swoop and seized the serpent-in his naked hands.

Tessa uttered the shriek which a few seconds before sheer horror had arrested, and fell back senseless in her chair.

Peter, grim and awful in the uncertain light, fought the thing he had gripped, while a small, red-eyed monster clawed its way up him, fiercely clambering to reach the horrible, writhing creature in the man’s hold.

It was all over in a few hard-breathing seconds, over before either of the men in front of Peter or a shadowy figure behind him that had come up at Tessa’s cry could give any help.

With a low laugh that was more terrible than any uttered curse, Peter flung the coiling horror over the verandah-rail into the bushes of the compound.  Something else went with it, closely locked.  They heard the thud of the fall, and there followed an awful, voiceless struggling in the darkness.

“Peter!” a voice said.