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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Swindler and Other Stories"


A sharp cry broke from Beryl, but she never knew that she uttered it.
All she was aware of was the ghastly struggle that ensued in front of
her, the fierce writhing of the snake, the convulsive movements of the
old native, and, curiously distinct from everything else, an impression
of some stringed instrument thrumming somewhere at the back of the
crowd.
It all ended as unexpectedly as it had begun. The great reptile became
suddenly inert, a lifeless thing; the monotonous crooning was resumed,
proceeding as it were out of the chaos of the struggle, and round his
neck and about his body the snake-charmer wound his vanquished foe.
The moment for _backsheesh_ had arrived, and Beryl, coming suddenly out
of her absorption, felt for her purse and awoke abruptly to the
consciousness of a hand that gripped her arm.
She glanced at Fletcher, who at once slackened his hold. "Don't you give
the fellow anything," he said, with a touch of peremptoriness, "I will."
She yielded, considering the matter too trivial for argument, and
watched his rupee fall with a tinkle upon the tin plate which the
snake-charmer extended at the length of his sinewy arm.
Fletcher speedily made a way for her through the now shifting crowd; and
after a little they found the _saice_, waiting with the mare under a
tree. The animal was tormented by flies and restless. Certainly in this
valley district it was very hot.


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