As it neared the Palace, it stopped and uttered a roar of defiance at
those at the windows. Then, apparently, something moving behind the
lattice work caught its eye. It moved towards it, crouching, and then,
with a tremendous spring, launched itself against it.
The balcony was ten feet from the ground, but the tiger's spring took
it clear of this. The woodwork gave way like paper, and the tiger
burst through. A shout of dismay arose from the multitude, but high
above this sounded the screams of the women.
"Quick, Surajah!" Dick cried, and, drawing his keen dagger, he cut
through the network and dashed through, followed by his companion.
"Stand here," he cried, as they arrived below the balcony. "Steady!
Put your hands against the wall."
Then he sprang on to Surajah's back, and thence to his shoulder.
Drawing his pistols, he put one between his teeth, grasping the other
in his right hand.
"Steady, Surajah," he said. "I am going to stand on your head."
He stepped on to his companion's turban, put his left arm on the
balcony, and raised himself by it, until his arms were above its
level. The tiger was standing with its paw upon a prostrate figure,
growling savagely, but evidently confused and somewhat dismayed at the
piercing screams from the women, most of whom had thrown themselves
down on the cushions of the divan.
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