The Adventures of Kathlyn (2024)

By

HAROLD MACGRATH

Author of The Man on the Box, The Goose Girl, Half a Rogue, etc.

INDIANAPOLIS

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT 1914

HAROLD MACGRATH

TO W. N. SELIG

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

It will be a hard trek......... Frontispiece

Where did you get this medal?

Ahmed salaamed deeply.

So they comforted each other.

You'll know how to soothe him.

My arm pains me badly.

And thus Umballa found them.

Kathyln turned the tide.

CHAPTER I

THE GOLDEN GIRL

Under a canopied platform stood a young girl, modeling in clay. Theglare of the California sunshine, filtering through the canvas, becamemellowed, warm and golden. Above the girl's head—yellow like thestalk of wheat—there hovered a kind of aureola, as if there had risenabove it a haze of impalpable gold dust.

A poet I know might have cried out that here ended his quest of theGolden Girl. Straight she stood at this moment, lovely of face,rounded of form, with an indescribable suggestion of latent physicalpower or magnetism. On her temples there were little daubs of clay,caused doubtless by impatient fingers sweeping back occasional windblown locks of hair. There was even a daub on the side of her handsomesensitive nose.

Her hand, still filled with clay, dropped to her side, and a tableauendured for a minute or two, suggesting a remote period, a Persianidyl, mayhap. With a smile on her lips she stared at the living model.The chatoyant eyes of the leopard stared back, a flicker ofrestlessness in their brilliant yellow deeps. The tip of the tailtwitched.

"You beautiful thing!" she said.

She began kneading the clay again, and with deft fingers added bitshere and there to the creature which had grown up under her strongsupple fingers.

"Kathlyn! Oh, Kit!"

The sculptress paused, the pucker left her brow, and she turned, herface beaming, for her sister Winnie was the apple of her eye, and shebrooded over her as the mother would have done had the mother lived.For Winnie, dark as Kathlyn was light, was as careless and aimless asthistledown in the wind.

A collie leaped upon the platform and began pawing Kathlyn, and shortlyafter the younger sister followed. Neither of the girls noted thestiffening mustaches of the leopard. The animal rose, and his nostrilspalpitated. He hated the dog with a hatred not unmixed with fear.Treachery is in the marrow of all cats. To breed them in captivitydoes not matter. Sooner or later they will strike. Never before hadthe leopard been so close to his enemy, free of the leash.

"Kit, it is just wonderful. However can you do it? Some day we'llmake dad take us to Paris, where you can exhibit them."

A snarl from the leopard, answered by a growl from the collie, broughtKathlyn's head about. The cat leaped, but toward Winnie, not thecollie. With a cry of terror Winnie turned and ran in the direction ofthe bungalow. Kathlyn, seizing the leash, followed like the wind,hampered though she was by the apron. The cat loped after the fleeinggirl, gaining at each bound. The yelping of the collie brought forthfrom various points low rumbling sounds, which presently developed intoroars.

Winnie turned sharply around the corner of the bungalow toward theempty animal cages, to attract her father and at the same time rousesome of the keepers. Seeing the door of an empty cage open, and thatit was approached by a broad runway, she flew to it, entered andslammed the door and held it. The cat, now hot with the lust to kill,threw himself against the bars, snarling and spitting.

Kathlyn called out to him sharply, and fearlessly approached him. Shebegan talking in a monotone. His ears went flat against his head, buthe submitted to her touch because invariably it soothed him, andbecause he sensed some undefinable power whenever his gaze met hers.She snapped the leash on his collar just as her father came running up,pale and disturbed. He ran to the door and opened it.

"Winnie, you poor little kitten," he said, taking her in his arms, "howmany times have I told you never to take that dog about when Kit'sleopard is off the leash?"

"I didn't think," she sobbed.

"No. Kit here and I must always do your thinking for you. Ahmed!"

"Yes, Sahib," answered the head keeper.

"See if you can stop that racket over there. Sadie may lose her litterif it keeps up."

The lean brown Mohammedan trotted away in obedience to his orders. Heknew how to stop captive lions from roaring. He knew how to sendterror to their hearts. As he ran he began to hiss softly.

Colonel Hare, with his arm about Winnie, walked toward the bungalow.

"Lock your pet up, Kit," he called over his shoulder, "and come in totea."

Kathlyn spoke soothingly to the leopard, scratched his head behind theears, and shortly a low satisfied rumble stirred his throat, and histail no longer slashed about. She led him to his own cage, neverceasing to talk, locked the door, then turned and walked thoughtfullytoward the bungalow.

She was wondering what this gift was that put awe into the eyes of thenative keepers on her father's wild animal farm and temporary peace inthe hearts of the savage beasts. She realized that she possessed it,but it was beyond analysis. Often some wild-eyed keeper would burst inupon her. Some newly captive lion or tiger was killing itself frommere passion, and wouldn't the Mem-sahib come at once and talk to it?There was a kind of pity in her heart for these poor wild things, andperhaps they perceived this pity, which was fearless.

"She gets a little from me, I suppose," Colonel Hare had once answeredto a query, "for I've always had a way with four footed things. But Ithink Ahmed is right. Kathlyn is heaven born. I've seen the nightwhen Brocken would be tame beside the pandemonium round-about. Yethalf an hour after Kit starts the rounds everything quiets down. Thegods are in it."

The living-room of the bungalow was large and comfortable. The wallswere adorned with the heads of wild beasts and their great furry hidesshared honors with the Persian rugs on the floor. Hare was a man whowould pack up at a moment's notice and go to the far ends of the worldto find a perfect black panther, a cheetah with a litter, or a greathorned rhinoceros. He was tall and broad, and amazingly active, forall that his hair and mustache were almost white. For thirty years ormore he had gone about the hazardous enterprise of supplying zoologicalgardens and circuses with wild beasts. He was known from Hamburg toSingapore, from Mombassa to Rio Janeiro. The Numidian lion, the Rajputtiger, and the Malayan panther had cause to fear Hare Sahib. He waseven now preparing to return to Ceylon for an elephant hunt.

The two daughters went over to the tea tabouret, where a matronly maidwas busying with the service. The fragrant odor of tea permeated theroom. Hare paused at his desk. Lines suddenly appeared on his bronzedface. He gazed for a space at the calendar. The day was the fifteenthof July. Should he go back there, or should he give up the expedition?He might never return. India and the border countries! What a land,full of beauty and romance and terror and squalor, at once barbaric andcivilized! He loved it and hated it, and sometimes feared it, he whohad faced on foot many a wounded tiger.

He shrugged, reached into the desk for a box of Jaipur brass enamel andtook from it a medal attached to a ribbon. The golden disk wasencrusted with uncut rubies and emeralds.

"Girls," he called. "Come here a moment. Martha, that will be all,"with a nod toward the door. "I never showed you this before."

"Goodness gracious!" cried Winnie, reaching out her hand.

"Why, it looks like a decoration, father," said Kathlyn. "What lovelystones! It would make a beautiful pendant."

"Vanity, vanity, all is vanity," said the colonel, smiling down intotheir charming faces. "Do you love your old dad?"

"Love you!" they exclaimed in unison, indignantly, too, since thequestion was an imputation of the fact.

"Would you be lonesome if I took the Big Trek?" whimsically.

"Father!"

"Dad!"

They pressed about him, as vines about an oak.

"Hang it, I swear that this shall be the last hunt. I'm rich. We'llget rid of all these brutes and spend the rest of the years seeing theshow places. I'm a bit tired myself of jungle fodder. We'll go toParis, and Berlin, and Rome, and Vienna. And you, Kit, shall go andtell Rodin that you've inherited the spirit of Gerome. And you,Winnie, shall make a stab at grand opera."

Winnie gurgled her delight, but her sister searched her father's eyes.She did not quite like the way he said those words. His voice lackedits usual heartiness and spontaneity.

"Where did you get this medal, father?" she asked.

"That's what I started out to tell you."

"Were you afraid we might wish to wear it or have it made over?"laughed Winnie, who never went below the surface of things.

"No. The truth is, I had almost forgotten it. But the preparationsfor India recalled it to mind. It represents a royal title conferredon me by the king of Allaha. You have never been to India, Kit.Allaha is the name we hunters give that border kingdom. Some dayEngland will gobble it up; only waiting for a good excuse."

"What big thing did you do?" demanded Kathlyn, her eyes still filledwith scrutiny.

"What makes you think it was big?" jestingly.

"Because," she answered seriously, "you never do anything but bigthings. As the lion is among beasts, you are among men."

"Good lord!" The colonel reached embarrassedly for his pipe, lightedit, puffed a few minutes, then laid it down. "India is full of strangetongues and strange kingdoms and principalities. Most of them aredominated by the British Raj, some are only protected, while others doabout as they please. This state"—touching the order—"does about asit did since the days of the first white rover who touched the shoresof Hind. It is small, but that signifies nothing; for you can brew amighty poison in a small pot. Well, I happened to save the old king'slife."

"I knew it would be something like that," said Kathlyn. "Go on. Tellit all."

The colonel had recourse to his pipe again. He smoked on till the coalwas dead. The girls waited patiently. They knew that his silencemeant that he was only marshaling the events in their chronologicalorder.

"The king was a kindly old chap, simple, yet shrewd, and with thatslumbrous oriental way of accomplishing his ends, despite allobstacles. Underneath this apparent simplicity I discovered a grimsardonic humor. Trust the Oriental for always having that packed awayunder his bewildering diplomacy. He was all alone in the world. Hewas one of those rare eastern potentates who wasn't hampered byparasitical relatives. By George, the old boy could have given hiskingdom, lock, stock and barrel, to the British government, and no onecould say him nay. There was a good deal of rumor the last time I wasthere that when he died England would step in actually. The old boygave me leave to come and go as I pleased, to hunt where and how Iwould. I had a mighty fine collection. There are tigers and leopardsand bears and fat old pythons, forty feet long. Of course, it isn'tthe tiger country that Central India is, but the brutes you find arebigger. I have about sixty beasts there now, and that's mainly why I'mgoing back. Want to clean it up and ship 'em to Hamburg, where I've alarge standing order. I'm going first to Ceylon, for some elephants."

The colonel knocked the ash from his pipe. "The old boy used to dosome trapping himself, and whenever he'd catch a fine specimen he'dturn it over to me. He had a hunting lodge not far from my quarters.One day Ahmed came to me with a message saying that the king commandedmy presence at the lodge, where his slaves had trapped a fine leopard.Yes, my dears, slaves. There is even a slave mart at the capital thisday. A barbaric fairy-land, with its good genii and its bad djinns."

"The Arabian Nights," murmured Winnie, snuggling close to Kathlyn.

"The Oriental loves pomp," went on the colonel. "He can't give you achupatty——"

"What's that?" asked Winnie.

"Something like hardtack. Well, he can't give you that withoutceremonial. When I arrived at the lodge with Ahmed the old boy—he hadthe complexion of a prima donna—the old boy sat on his portablethrone, glittering with orders. Standing beside him was a chap wecalled Umballa. He had been a street rat. A bit of impudence hadcaught the king's fancy, and he brought up the boy, clothed, fed him,and sent him away down to Umballa to school. When the boy returned hetalked Umballa morning, noon and night, till the soldiers began to callhim that, and from them it passed on to the natives, all of whomdisliked the upstart. Hanged if I can recall his real name. He wasugly and handsome at the same time; suave, patient, courteous; yetsomehow or other I sensed the real man below—the Tartar blood. I tooka dislike to him, first off. It's the animal sense. You've got it,Kit. Behind the king sat the Council of Three—three wise old ducks Iwouldn't trust with an old umbrella."

Winnie laughed.

"While we were salaaming and genuflecting and using grandiloquentphrases the bally leopard got loose, somehow. Maybe some one let himloose; I don't know. Anyhow, he made for the king, who was toothunderstruck to dodge. The rest of 'em took to their heels, you maylay odds on that. Now, I had an honest liking for the king. Seeingthe brute make for him, I dashed forward. You see, at ceremonialsyou're not permitted to carry arms. It had to be with my hands. Theleopard knocked the old boy flat and began to maul him. I kicked thebrute in the face, swept the king's turban off his head and flung itabout the head of the leopard. Somehow or other I got him down. Someof the frightened natives came up, and with the help of Ahmed we gotthe brute tied up securely. When the king came around he silentlyshook hands with me and smiled peculiarly at Umballa, who now camerunning up."

"And that's how you got those poor hands!" exclaimed Kathlyn, kissingthe scars which stood out white against the tan.

"That's how," raising the hands and putting them on Kathlyn's head in akind of benediction.

"Is that all?" asked Winnie breathlessly.

"Isn't that enough?" he retorted. "Well, what is it, Martha? Dinner?Well, if I haven't cheated you girls out of your tea!"

"Tea!" sniffed Winnie disdainfully. "Do you know, dad, you're awfullymean to Kit and me. If you'd take the trouble you could be moreinteresting than any book I ever read."

"He doesn't believe his stories would interest vain young ladies," saidKathlyn gravely.

Her father eyed her sharply. Of what was she thinking? In those calmunwavering eyes of hers he saw a question, and he feared in his soulshe might voice it. He could evade the questions of the volatileWinnie, but there was no getting by Kathlyn with evasions. Frowning,he replaced the order in the box, which he put away in a drawer. Itwas all arrant nonsense, anyhow; nothing could possibly happen; ifthere did, he would feel certain that he no longer dwelt in a realworkaday world. The idle whim of a sardonic old man; nothing more thanthat.

"Father, is the king dead?"

"Dead! What makes you ask that, Kit?"

"The past tense; you said he was, not is."

"Yes, he's dead, and the news came this morning. Hence, the yarn."

"Will there be any danger in returning?"

"My girl, whenever I pack my luggage there is danger. A cartridge maystick; a man may stumble; a man you rely on may fail you. As for that,there's always danger. It's the penalty of being alive."

On the way to the dining-room Kathlyn thought deeply. Why had herfather asked them if they loved him? Why did he speak of the Big Trek?There was something more than this glittering medal, something morethan this simple tale of bravery. What? Well, if he declined to takeher into his confidence he must have good reason.

After dinner that night the colonel went the rounds, as was his habitnightly. By and by he returned to the bungalow, but did not enter. Hefilled his cutty and walked to and fro in the moonlight, with his headbent and his hands clasped behind his back. There was a restlessnessin his stride not unlike that of the captive beasts in the cages nearby. Occasionally he paused at the clink clink of the elephant irons orat the "whuff" as the uneasy pachyderm poured dust on his head.

Bah! It was madness. A parchment in Hindustani, given jestingly orironically by a humorous old chap in orders and white linen andrhinoceros sandals.… A throne! Pshaw! It was bally nonsense.As if a white man could rule over a brown one by the choice of thelatter! And yet, that man Umballa's face, when he had shown the kingthe portraits of his two lovely daughters! He would send Ahmed. Ahmedknew the business as well as he did. He would send his abdication tothe council, giving them the right to choose his successor. He himselfwould remain home with the girls. Then he gazed up at the moon andsmiled grimly.

"Hukum hai!" he murmured in Hindustani. "It is the orders. I'vesimply got to go. When I recall those rubies and emeralds andpearls.… Well, it's not cupidity for myself. It's for the girls.Besides; there's the call, the adventure. I've simply got to go. Ican't escape it. I must be always on the go… since she died."

A few days later he stood again before the desk in the living-room. Hewas dressed for travel. He sat down and penned a note. From the boxwhich contained the order he extracted a large envelope heavily sealed.This he balanced in his hand for a moment, frowned, laughed, and sworesoftly. He would abdicate, but at a snug profit. Why not?… Hewas an old fool. Into a still larger envelope he put the sealedenvelope and his own note, then wrote upon it. He was blotting it ashis daughters entered.

"Come here, my pretty cubs." He held out the envelope. "I want you,Kit, to open this on December thirty-first, at midnight. Girls likemysteries, and if you opened it any time but midnight it wouldn't bemysterious. Indeed, I shall probably have you both on the arms of mychair when you open it."

"Is it about the medal?" demanded Winnie.

"By George, Kit, the child is beginning to reason out things," hejested.

Winnie laughed, and so did Kathlyn, but she did so because occultly shefelt that her father expected her to laugh. She was positively uncannysometimes in her perspicacity.

"On December thirty-first, at midnight," she repeated. "All right,father. You must write to us at least once every fortnight."

"I'll cable from Singapore, from Ceylon, and write a long letter fromAllaha. Come on. We must be off. Ahmed is waiting."

Some hours later the two girls saw the Pacific Mail steamer move withcold and insolent majesty out toward the Golden Gate. Kathlyn provedrather uncommunicative on the way home. December thirty-first keptrunning through her mind. It held a portent of evil. She knewsomething of the Orient, though she had never visited India. Had herfather made an implacable enemy? Was he going into some unknown,unseen danger? December thirty-first, at midnight. Could she hold hercuriosity in check that long?

Many of the days that followed dragged, many flew—the first forKathlyn, the last for Winnie, who now had a beau, a young newspaper manfrom San Francisco. He came out regularly every Saturday and returnedat night. Winnie became, if anything, more flighty than ever. Herfather never had young men about. The men he generally gathered roundhis board were old hunters or sailors. Kathlyn watched this buddingromance amusedly. The young man was very nice. But her thoughts werealways and eternally with her father.

During the last week in December there arrived at the Palace Hotel inSan Francisco an East Indian, tall, well formed, rather handsome.Except for his brown turban he would have passed unnoticed. For Hindusand Japanese and Chinamen and what-nots from the southern seas wereevery-day affairs. The brown turban, however, and an enormous emeraldon one of his fingers, produced an effect quite gratifying to him.Vanity in the Oriental is never conspicuous for its absence. Thereporters gave him scant attention, though, for this was at a time whenthe Gaikwar of Baroda was unknown.

The stranger, after two or three days of idling, casually asked the wayto the wild animal farm of his old friend, Colonel Hare. It was easyenough to find. At the village inn he was treated with tolerantcontempt. These brown fellows were forever coming and going, to andfro, from the colonel's.

At five o'clock in the afternoon of the thirty-first day of December,this East Indian peered cautiously into the French window of the Harebungalow. The picture he saw there sent a thrill into his heart. Shewas as fair and beautiful as an houri of Sa'adi. She sat at a desk,holding a long white envelope in her hand. By and by she put it away,and he was particular to note the drawer in which she placed it. Thatthe dark-haired girl at the tea tabouret was equally charming did notstir the watcher. Dark-haired women were plentiful in his native land.Yonder was the girl of the photograph, the likeness of which had firedhis heart for many a day. With the patience of the Oriental he stoodin the shadow and waited. Sooner or later they would leave the room,and sooner or later, with the deftness of his breed, he would enter.The leopard he had heard about was nowhere to be seen.

"Winnie," said Kathlyn, "I dread it."

Winnie set down the teacup; her eyes were brimming.

"What can it all mean? Not a line from father since Colombo, fivemonths gone."

"Do you think——"

"No, no!" replied Kathlyn hastily. "Father sometimes forgets. He maybe hunting miles from telegraph wires and railroads; it is only that heshould forget us so long. Who knows? He may have dropped down intoBorneo. He wanted some pythons, so I heard him say."

The elder sister did not care to instil into the heart of her chargethe fear which was in her own.

"Who knows but there may be good news in the envelope? Dad's alwaysdoing something like that. New Year's!"

The collie, released from the kitchen, came bounding in. In hisexuberance he knocked over a cloisonne vase. Both girls were glad towelcome this diversion. They rose simultaneously and gave chase. Thedog headed for the outdoor studio, where they caught him and madebelieve they were punishing him.

Quietly the watcher entered through the window, alert and tense. Heflew to the desk, found the envelope, steamed it open at the kettle,extracted the sealed envelope and Colonel Hare's note. He smiled as heread the letter and changed his plans completely. He would not playmessenger; he would use a lure instead. With his ear strained forsounds, he wrote and substituted a note. This houri of Sa'adi wouldnot pause to note the difference in writing; the vitalness of thesubject would enchain her thoughts. It was all accomplished in thespace of a few minutes. Smiling, he passed out into the fast settlingtwilight.

They were shipping a lion to San Francisco, and the roaring andconfusion were all very satisfactory to the trespasser.

Midnight. From afar came the mellow notes of the bells in the ancientSpanish mission. The old year was dead, the new year was born,carrying with it the unchanging sound of happiness and misery, ofpromises made and promises broken, of good and evil.

"The packet!" cried Winnie.

Kathlyn recognized in that call that Winnie was only a child. All theresponsibility lay upon her shoulders. She ripped the cover from thepacket and read the note.

"I knew it," said Kathlyn calmly. The fear in her heart had, as thebrown man had anticipated, blinded her to the fact that this was nother father's characteristic blunt scrawl.

"Oh, Kit, Kit!"

"Hush, Winnie! I must go, and go alone. Where's the evening paper?Ah, there it is. Let me see what boat leaves San Francisco to-morrow.The Empress of India, six a. m. I must make that. Now, you're yourfather's daughter, too, Winnie. You must stay behind and be brave andwait. I shall come back. I shall find father, if I have to rouse allIndia. Now, to pack."

When they arrived at the station the passenger train had just drawnout. For a while Kathlyn felt beaten. She would be compelled to waitanother week. It was disheartening.

"Why not try the freight, then?" cried Winnie.

"You little angel! I never thought of that!"

But the crew would not hear of it. It was absolutely against thecompany's rules. Kathlyn could have cried.

"It isn't money, miss, it's the rules," said the conductor kindly. "Ican't do it."

Kathlyn turned in despair toward the station. It was then she saw theboxed lion on the platform. She returned to the conductor of thefreight.

"Why isn't that lion shipped?"

"We can't carry a lion without an attendant, miss. You ought to knowthat."

"Very well," replied Kathlyn. She smiled at the conductor confidently."I'll travel as the lion's attendant. You certainly can not object tothat."

"I guess you've got me," admitted the conductor. "But where thedickens will we put the cat? Every car is closed and locked, and thereis not an empty."

"You can easily get the lion in the caboose. I'll see that he doesn'tbother any one."

"Lions in the caboose is a new one on me. Well, you know your dad'sbusiness better than I do. Look alive, boys, and get that angoraaboard. This is Miss Hare herself, and she'll take charge."

"Kit, Kit!"

"Winnie!"

"Oh, I'll be brave. I've just got to be. But I've never been leftalone before."

The two girls embraced, and Winnie went sobbing back to the maid whowaited on the platform.

What happened in that particular caboose has long since been newspaperhistory. The crew will go on telling it till it becomes as fabulous asone of Sindbad's yarns. How the lion escaped, how the fearless youngwoman captured it alone, unaided, may be found in the files of allmetropolitan newspapers. Of the brown man who was found hiding in thecoat closet of the caboose nothing was said. But the sight of himdismayed Kathlyn as no lion could have done. Any-dark skinned personwas now a subtle menace. And when, later, she saw peering into theport-hole of her stateroom, dismay became terror.

Who was this man?

CHAPTER II

THE UNWELCOME THRONE

Kathlyn sensed great loneliness when, about a month later, she arrivedat the basin in Calcutta. A thousand or more natives were bathingceremoniously in the ghat—men, women and children. It was early morn,and they were making solemn genuflections toward the bright sun. Thewater-front swarmed with brown bodies, and great wheeled carts drawn bysad-eyed bullocks threaded slowly through the maze. The many whiteturbans, stirring hither and thither, reminded her of a field of whitepoppies in a breeze. India! There it lay, ready for her eager feet.Always had she dreamed about it, and romanced over it, and sought it onthe wings of her spirit. Yonder it lay, ancient as China, enchantingas storied Persia.

If only she were on pleasure bent! If only she knew some one in thisgreat teeming city! She knew no one; she carried no letters ofintroduction, no letters of credit, nothing but the gold and notes thepaymaster at the farm had hastily turned over to her. Only by constantapplication to maps and guide books had she managed to arrange theshort cut to the far kingdom. She had been warned that it was a wildand turbulent place, out of the beaten path, beyond the reach of ironrails. Three long sea voyages: across the Pacific (which wasn't), downthe bitter Yellow Sea, up the blue Bay of Bengal, with many a seachange and many a strange picture. What though her heart ached, it wasimpossible that her young eyes should not absorb all she saw and marvelover it. India!

The strange elusive Hindu had disappeared after Hongkong. That was aweight off her soul. She was now assured that her imagination hadbeguiled her. How should he know anything about her? What was morenatural than that he should wish to hurry back to his native state?She was not the only one in a hurry. And there were Hindus of allcastes on all three ships. By now she had almost forgot him.

There was one bright recollection to break the unending loneliness.Coming down from Hongkong to Singapore she had met at the captain'stable a young man by the name of Bruce. He was a quiet, ratheruntalkative man, lean and sinewy, sun and wind bitten. Kathlyn had asyet had no sentimental affairs. Absorbed in her work, her father andthe care of Winnie, such young men as she had met had scarcelyinterested her. She had only tolerated contempt for idlers, and theseyoung men had belonged to that category. Bruce caught her interest inthe very fact that he had but little to say and said that crisply andwell. There was something authoritative in the shape of his mouth andthe steadiness of his eye, though before her he never exercised thispower. A dozen times she had been on the point of taking him into herconfidence, but the irony of fate had always firmly closed her lips.

And now, waiting for the ship to warp into its pier, she realized whata fatal mistake her reticence had been. A friend of her father!

Bruce had left the Lloyder before dinner (at Singapore), and asKathlyn's British-India coaster did not leave till morning she hadelected to remain over night on the German boat.

As Bruce disappeared among the disembarking passengers and climbed intoa rickshaw she turned to the captain, who stood beside her.

"Do you know Mr. Bruce?"

"Very well," said the German. "Didn't he tell you who he is? No?Ach! Why, Mr. Bruce is a great hunter. He has shot everything,written books, climbed the Himalayas. Only last year he brought me thesack of a musk deer, and that is the most dangerous of all sports. Hecollects animals."

Then Kathlyn knew. The name had been vaguely familiar, but the youngman's reticence had given her no opportunity to dig into herrecollection. Bruce! How many times her father had spoken of him!What a fool she had been! Bruce knew the country she was going to,perhaps as well as her father; and he could have simplified her journeyto the last word. Well, what was done could not be recalled and doneover.

"My father is a great hunter, too," she said simply, eying wistfullythe road taken by Bruce into town.

"What? Herr Gott! Are you Colonel Hare's daughter?" exclaimed thecaptain.

"Yes."

He seized her by the shoulders. "Why did you not tell me? Why,Colonel Hare and I have smoked many a Burma cheroot together on thesewaters. Herr Gott! And you never said anything! What a woman for aman to marry!" he laughed. "You have sat at my table for five days,and only now I find that you are Hare's daughter! And you have asister. Ach, yes! He was always taking out some photographs in thesmoke-room and showing them to us old chaps."

Tears filled Kathlyn's eyes. In an Indian prison, out of thejurisdiction of the British Raj, and with her two small hands andwoman's mind she must free him! Always the mysterious packet lay closeto her heart, never for a moment was it beyond the reach of her hand.Her father's freedom!

The rusty metal sides of the ship scraped against the pier and thegangplank was lowered; and presently the tourists flocked down withvariant emotions, to be besieged by fruit sellers, water carriers,cabmen, blind beggars, and maimed, naked little children with curious,insolent black eyes, women with infants straddling their hips, stolidChinamen; a riot of color and a bewildering babel of tongues.

Kathlyn found a presentable carriage, and with her luggage pressingabout her feet directed the driver to the Great Eastern Hotel.

Her white sola-topee (sun helmet) had scarcely disappeared in the crowdwhen the Hindu of the freight caboose emerged from the steerage, nolonger in bedraggled linen trousers and ragged turban, but dressed likea native fop. He was in no hurry. Leisurely he followed Kathlyn tothe hotel, then proceeded to the railway station. He had need nolonger to watch and worry. There was nothing left now but to greet herupon her arrival, this golden houri from the verses of Sa'adi. The twoweeks of durance vile among the low castes in the steerage should beamply repaid. In six days he would be beyond the hand of the meddlingBritish Raj, in his own country. Sport! What was more beautiful towatch than cat play? He was the cat, the tiger cat. And what wouldthe Colonel Sahib say when he felt the claws? Beautiful, beautiful,like a pattern woven in an Agra rug.

Kathlyn began her journey at once. Now that she was on land, movingtoward her father, all her vigor returned. She felt strangely alive,exhilarated. She knew that she was not going to be afraid of anythinghereafter. To enter the strange country without having her purposeknown would be the main difficulty. Where was Ahmed all this time?Doubtless in a cell like his master.

Three days later she stood at the frontier, and her servant set aboutarguing and bargaining with the mahouts to engage elephants for thethree days' march through jungles and mountainous divides to thecapital. Three elephants were necessary. There were two howdahelephants and one pack elephant, who was always lagging behind.Through long aisles of magnificent trees they passed, across hotblistering deserts, dotted here and there by shrubs and stunted trees,in and out of gloomy defiles of flinty rock, over sluggish and swiftlyflowing streams. The days were hot, but the nights were bitter cold.Sometimes a blue miasmic haze settled down, and the dry raspy hides ofthe elephants grew damp and they fretted at their chains.

Rao, the khidmutgar Kathlyn had hired in Calcutta, proved invaluable.Without him she would never have succeeded in entering the strangecountry; for these wild-eyed Mohammedan mahouts (and it is pertinent tonote that only Mohammedans are ever made mahouts, it being against thetenets of Hinduism to kill or ride anything that kills) scowled at herevilly. They would have made way with her for an anna-piece. Rao wasa Mohammedan himself, so they listened and obeyed.

All this the first day and night out. On the following morning aleopard crossed the trail. Kathlyn seized her rifle and broke itsspine. The jabbering of the mahouts would have amused her at any othertime.

"Good, Mem-sahib," whispered Rao. "You have put fear into theirdevils' hearts. Good! Chup!" he called. "Stop your noise."

After that they gave Kathlyn's dog tent plenty of room.

One day, in the heart of a natural clearing, she saw a tree. Itsblossoms and leaves were as scarlet as the seeds of a pomegranate.

"Oh, how beautiful! What is it, Rao?"

"The flame of the jungle, Mem-sahib. It is good luck to see it on ajourney."

About the tree darted gay parrakeets and fat green parrots. The greenplumage of the birds against the brilliant scarlet of the tree wasindescribably beautiful. Everywhere was life, everywhere was color.Once, as the natives seated themselves of the evening round their dungfire while Kathlyn busied with the tea over a wood fire, a tiger roarednear by. The elephants trumpeted and the mahouts rose in terror.Kathlyn ran for her rifle, but the trumpeting of the elephants wassufficient to send the striped cat to other hunting-grounds. Wild apeand pig abounded, and occasionally a caha wriggled out of the sun intothe brittle grasses. Very few beasts or reptiles are aggressive; it isonly when they feel cornered that they turn. Even the black panther,the most savage of all cats, will rarely offer battle except whenattacked.

Meantime the man who had followed Kathlyn arrived at the city.

Five hours later Kathlyn stepped out of her howdah, gave Rao the moneyfor the mahouts and looked about. This was the gate to the capital.How many times had her father passed through it? Her jaw set and hereyes flashed. Whatever dangers beset her she was determined to meetthem with courage and patience.

"Rao, you had better return to Calcutta. What I have to do must bedone alone."

"Very good. But I shall remain here till the Mem-sahib returns." Raosalaamed.

"And if I should not return?" affected by this strange loyalty.

"Then I shall seek Bruce Sahib, who has a camp twenty miles east."

"Bruce? But he is in Singapore!"—a quickening of her pulses.

"Who can say where Bruce Sahib is? He is like a shadow, there to-day,here to-morrow. I have been his servant, Mem-sahib, and that is how Iam to-day yours. I received a telegram to call at your hotel and applyto you for service. Very good. I shall wait. The mahout here willtake you directly to Hare Sahib's bungalow. You will find yourfather's servants there, and all will be well. A week, then. If youdo not send for me I seek Bruce Sahib, and we shall return with many.Some will speak English at the bungalow."

"Thank you, Rao. I shall not forget."

"Neither will Bruce Sahib," mysteriously. Rao salaamed.

Kathlyn got into the howdah and passed through the gates. Bruce Sahib,the quiet man whose hand had reached out over seas thus strangely toreassure her! A hardness came into her throat and she swalloweddesperately. She was only twenty-four. Except for herself there mightnot be a white person in all this sprawling, rugged principality. Fromtime to time the new mahout turned and smiled at her curiously, but shewas too absorbed to note his attentions.

Durga Ram, called lightly Umballa, went directly to the palace, wherehe knew the Council of Three solemnly awaited his arrival. He dashedup the imposing flight of marble steps, exultant. He had fulfilled hispromise; the golden daughter of Hare Sahib was but a few miles away.The soldiers, guarding the entrance, presented their arms respectfully;but instantly after Umballa disappeared the expression on their faceswas not pleasing.

Umballa hurried along through the deep corridor, supported byexquisitely carved marble columns. Beauty in stone was in evidenceeverywhere and magnificent brass lamps hung from the ceiling. Therewas a shrine topped by an idol in black marble, incrusted withsapphires and turquoises. Durga Ram, who shall be called Umballa,nodded slightly as he passed it. Force of habit, since in his heartthere was only one religion—self.

He stopped at a door guarded by a single soldier, who saluted but spatas soon as Umballa had passed into the throne room. The throne itselfwas vacant. The Council of Three rose at the approach of Umballa.

"She is here," he said haughtily.

The council salaamed.

Umballa stroked his chin as he gazed at the huge candles flickering ateach side of the throne. He sniffed the Tibetan incense, and shrugged.It was written. "Go," he said, "to Hare Sahib's bungalow and await me.I shall be there presently. There is plenty of time. And remember ourfour heads depend upon the next few hours. The soldiers are on theverge of mutiny, and only success can pacify them."

He turned without ceremony and left them. With oriental philosophythey accepted the situation. They had sought to overturn him, and heheld them in the hollow of his hand. During the weeks of his absencein America his spies had hung about them like bees about honey. Theywere the fowlers snared.

Umballa proceeded along the corridor to a flight of stairs leadingbeneath the palace floor. Here the soldiers were agreeable enough;they had reason to be. Umballa gave them new minted rupees for theirwork, many rupees. For they knew secrets. Before the door of adungeon Umballa paused and listened. There was no sound. He returnedupstairs and sought a chamber near the harem. This he entered, andstood with folded arms near the door.

"Ah, Colonel Sahib!"

"Umballa?" Colonel Hare, bearded, unkempt, tried to stand erect andface his enemy. "You black scoundrel!"

"Durga Ram, Sahib. Words, words; the patter of rain on stone roofs.Our king lives no more, alas!"

"You lie!"

"He is dead. Dying, he left you this throne—you, a white man, knowingit was a legacy of terror and confusion. You knew. Why did youreturn? Ah, pearls and sapphires and emeralds! What? I offer youthis throne upon conditions."

"And those conditions I have refused."

"You have, yes, but now——" Umballa smiled. Then he suddenly blazedforth: "Think you a white man shall sit upon this throne while I live?It is mine. I was his heir."

"Then why didn't you save him from the leopard? I'll tell you why.You expected to inherit on the spot, and I spoiled the game. Is thatnot true?"

"And what if I admit it?" truculently.

"Umballa, or Durga Ram, if you wish, listen. Take the throne. What'sto hinder you? You want it. Take it and let me begone."

"Yes, I want it; and by all the gods of Hind I'll have it—but safely.Ah! It would be fine to proclaim myself when mutiny and rebellionstalk about. Am I a pig to play a game like that? Tch! Tch!" Heclicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in derision. "No; Ineed a buckler till all this roily water subsides and clears."

"And then, some fine night, Hare Sahib's throat? I am not afraid ofdeath, Umballa. I have faced it too many times. Make an end of me atonce or leave me to rot here, my answer will always be the same. Iwill not become a dishonorable tool. You have offered me freedom andjewels. No; I repeat, I will free all slaves, abolish the harems, thebuying and selling of flesh; I will make a man of every poor devil of acoolie who carries stones from your quarries."

Umballa laughed. "Then remain here like a dog while I put your goldendaughter on the throne and become what the British Raj calls princeconsort. She'll rebel, I know; but I have a way." He stepped outsideand closed the door.

"Umballa?"

"Well?"

"Kit, my daughter? Good God, what is she doing here when I warnedher?" Hare tugged furiously at his chains. "Durga Ram, you havebeaten me. State your terms and I will accept them to theletter.… Kit, my beautiful Kit, in this hellhole!"

"Ah, but I don't want you to accept now. I was merely amusing myself."The door shut and the bolt shot home.

Hare fell upon his knees. "My head, my head! Dear God, save me myreason!"

* * * * * *

The moment Kathlyn arrived at the animal cages of her father she calledfor Ahmed.

"My father?"

"Ah, Mem-sahib, they say he is dead. I know not. One night—thesecond after we arrived—he was summoned to the palace. He never cameback."

"They have killed him!"

"Perhaps. They watch me, too; but I act simple. We wait and see."

Kathlyn rushed across the ground intervening between the animal cagesand the bungalow. There was no one in sight. She ran up thesteps… to be greeted inside by the suave Umballa.

"You?" her hand flying to her bosom.

"I, Miss Hare." He salaamed, with a sweeping gesture of his hands.

Sadly the wretch told her the tale; the will of the king, his death andthe subsequent death of her father in his, Durga Ram's, arms. Yonderurn contained his ashes. For the first time in her young life Kathlynfainted. She had been living on her nerves for weeks, and at the sightof that urn something snapped. Daintily Umballa plucked forth thepacket and waited. At length she opened her eyes.

"You are a queen, Miss Hare."

"You are mad!"

"Nay; it was the madness of the king. But mad kings often make lawswhich must be obeyed. You will accuse me of perfidy when I tell youall. The note which brought you here was written by me and substitutedfor this."

Duly Kathlyn read:

The Council of Three entered noiselessly from the adjoining room. Atthe four dark, inscrutable faces the bewildered girl stared, her limbsnumb with terror. Gravely the council told her she must come with themto the palace.

"It is impossible!" she murmured. "You are all mad. I am a whitewoman. I can not rule over an alien race whose tongue I can not speak,whose habits I know nothing of. It is impossible. Since my father isdead, I must return to my home."

"No," said Umballa.

"I refuse to stir!" She was all afire of a sudden: the base trickerywhich had brought her here! She was very lovely to the picturesquesavage who stood at her elbow.

As he looked down at her, in his troubled soul Umballa knew that it wasnot the throne so much as it was this beautiful bird of paradise whichhe wished to cage.

"Be brave," he said, "like your father. I do not wish to use force,but you must go. It is useless to struggle. Come."

She hung back for a moment; then, realizing her utter helplessness, shesignified that she was ready to go. She needed time to collect herstunned and disordered thoughts.

Before going to the palace they conducted her to the royal crypt. Theurn containing her father's ashes was deposited in a niche. Many otherniches contained urns, and Umballa explained to her that these held theashes of many rulers. Tears welled into Kathlyn's eyes, but they wereof a hysterical character.

"A good sign," mused Umballa, who thought he knew something of women,like all men beset with vanity. Oddly enough, he had forgot all aboutthe incident of the lion in the freight caboose. All women are felinesto a certain extent. This golden-haired woman had claws, and the daywas coming when he would feel them drag over his heart.

From the crypt they proceeded to the palace zenana (harem), whichsurrounded a court of exceeding beauty. Three ladies of the harem weresitting in the portico, attended by slaves. All were curiouslyinterested at the sight of a woman with white skin, tinted like thelotus. Umballa came to a halt before a latticed door.

"Here your majesty must remain till the day of your coronation."

"How did my father die?"

"He was assassinated on the palace steps by a Mohammedan fanatic. As Itold you, he died in my arms."

"His note signified that he feared imprisonment. How came he on thepalace steps?"

"He was not a prisoner. He came and went as he pleased in the city."He bowed and left her.

Alone in her chamber, the dullness of her mind diminished and finallycleared away like a fog in a wind. Her dear, kind, blue-eyed fatherwas dead, and she was virtually a prisoner, and Winnie was all alone.A queen! They were mad, or she was in the midst of some hideousnightmare. Mad, mad, mad! She began to laugh, and it was not apleasant sound. A queen, she, Kathlyn Hare! Her father was dead, shewas a queen, and Winnie was all alone. A gale of laughter brought tothe marble lattice many wondering eyes. The white co*ckatoo shrilledhis displeasure. Those outside the lattice saw this marvelouswhite-skinned woman, with hair like the gold threads in Chinesebrocades, suddenly throw herself upon a pile of cushions, and they sawher shoulders rock and heave, but heard no sound of wailing.

After a while she fell asleep, a kind of dreamless stupor. When sheawoke it was twilight in the court. The doves were cooing andfluttering in the cornices and the co*ckatoo was preening his lemoncolored topknot. At first Kathlyn had not the least idea where shewas, but the light beyond the lattice, the flitting shadows, and thetinkle of a stringed instrument assured her that she was awake,terribly awake.

She sat perfectly still, slowly gathering her strength, mental andphysical. She was not her father's daughter for nothing. She was tofight in some strange warfare, instinctively she felt this; but fromwhat direction, in what shape, only God knew. Yet she must prepare forit; that was the vital thing; she must marshal her forces, feminine andonly defensive, and watch.

Rao! Her hands clutched the pillows. In five days' time he would beoff to seek John Bruce; and there would be white men there, and theywould come to her though a thousand legions of these brown men stoodbetween. She would play for time; she must pretend docility and meetquiet guile with guile. She could get no word to her faithfulkhidmutgar; none here, even if open to bribery, could be made tounderstand. Only Umballa and the council spoke English or understoodit. She had ten days' grace; within that time she hoped to find someloophole.

Slave girls entered noiselessly. The hanging lamps were lighted. Atabouret was set before her. There were quail and roast kid, fruitsand fragrant tea. She was not hungry, but she ate.

Within a dozen yards of her sat her father, stolidly munching hischupatties, because he knew that now he must live.

* * * * * *

One of the chief characteristics of the East Indian is extravagance.To outvie one another in celebrations of births, weddings, deaths andcoronations they beggar themselves. In this the Oriental and theOccidental have one thing in common. This principality was small, butthere was a deal of wealth in it because of its emerald mines andturquoise pits. The durbar brought out princes and princelings fromeast, south and west, and even three or four wild-eyed ameers from thenorth. The British government at Calcutta heard vaguely about thisfete, but gave it scant attention for the simple fact that it had notbeen invited to attend. Still, it watched the performance covertly.Usually durbars took months of preparation; this one had been calledinto existence within ten days.

Elephants and camels and bullocks; palanquins, gharries, tongas; clothof gold and cloth of jewels; color, confusion, maddening noises, andmore color. There was very little semblance of order; a rajah precededa princeling, and so on down. The wailing of reeds and the mutteringof kettle drums; music, languorous, haunting, elusive, low minor chordsseemingly struck at random, intermingling a droning chant; a thousandstreams of incense, crossing and recrossing; and fireworks at night,fireworks which had come all the way across China by caravan—thesethings Kathlyn saw and heard from her lattice.

The populace viewed all these manifestations quietly. They wereperfectly willing to wait. If this white queen proved kind they wouldgo about their affairs, leaving her in peace; but they were determinedthat she should be no puppet in the hands of Umballa, whom they hatedfor his cruelty and money leeching ways. Oh, everything was ripe inthe state for murder and loot—and the reaching, holding hand of theBritish Raj.

As Kathlyn advanced to the canopied dais upon which she was to becrowned, a hand filled with flowers reached out. She turned to seeAhmed.

"Bruce Sahib," she whispered.

Ahmed salaamed deeply as she passed on. The impression that she wasdreaming again seized her. This could not possibly be real. Her feetdid not seem to touch the carpets; she did not seem to breathe; shefloated. It was only when the crown was placed upon her head that sherealized the reality and the finality of the proceedings.

"Be wise," whispered Umballa coldly. "If you take off that crown now,neither your gods nor mine could save you from that mob down yonder.Be advised. Rise!"

She obeyed. She wanted to cry out to that sea of bronze faces: "PeopleI do not want to be your queen. Let me go!" They would notunderstand. Where was Rao? Where was Bruce? What of the hope thatnow flickered and died in her heart, like a guttering candle light?There was a small dagger hidden in the folds of her white robe; shecould always use that. She heard Umballa speaking in the nativetongue. A great shouting followed. The populace surged.

"What have you said to them?" she demanded.

"That her majesty had chosen Durga Ram to be her consort and to him nowforthwith she will be wed." He salaamed.

So the mask was off! "Marry you? Oh, no! Mate with you, a black?"

"Black?" he cried, as if a whiplash had struck him across the face.

"Yes, black of skin and black of heart. I have submitted to the farceof this durbar, but that is as far as my patience will go. God willguard me."

"God?" mockingly.

"Yes, my God and the God of my fathers!"

To the mutable faces below she looked the Queen at that instant. Theysaw the attitude, but could not interpret it.

"So be it. There are other things besides marriage."

"Yes," she replied proudly; "there is death."

CHAPTER III

THE TWO ORDEALS

Umballa was not a coward; he was only ruthless and predatory after themanner of his kind. A thrill of admiration tingled his spine. Thewomen of his race were chattels, lazy and inert, without fire, merelydrudges or playthings. Here was one worth conquering, a white flame tobe controlled. To bend her without breaking her, that must be hismethod of procedure. The skin under her chin was as white as the heartof a mangosteen, and the longing to sweep her into his arms was almostirresistible.

A high priest spoke to Kathlyn.

"What does he say?" she asked.

"That you must marry me."

"Tell him that I refuse!"

Umballa shrugged and repeated her words. Here the Council of Threeinterposed, warning Kathlyn that she must submit to the law as it read.There was no appeal from it.

"Then I shall appeal to the British Raj."

"How?" asked Umballa urbanely.

Swiftly she stepped to the front of the platform and extended her arms.It was an appeal. She pointed to Umballa and shook her head. Her armswent out again. A low murmur rippled over the pressing crowd; it grewin volume; and a frown of doubt flitted over Umballa's brow. Thesoldiers were swaying restlessly. Kathlyn saw this sign and was quickto seize upon its possibilities. She renewed her gesture toward them.It seemed that she must burst forth in their maddening tongue: "Iappeal to the chivalry of Allaha!… Soldiers, you now wear myuniform! Liberate me!" But her tongue was mute; yet her eyes, herface, her arms spoke eloquently enough to the turbulent soldiers.Besides, they welcomed the opportunity to show the populace how strongthey were and how little they feared Umballa. At a nod from theirleader they came romping up the steps to this dais and surroundedKathlyn. A roar came from the populace; an elephant trumpeted; thepariah dogs barked.

Umballa stepped back, his hand on his jeweled sword. He was quiteunprepared for any such flagrant mutiny—mutiny from his angle ofvision, though in law the troopers had only responded to the desire oftheir queen. He turned questioningly to the council and the priests.He himself could move no further. His confreres appreciated the dangerin which their power stood. They announced that it was decreed to givethe queen a respite of seven days in which to yield. It would at leasthold the bold troopers on the leash till they could be brought to seethe affair in its true light by the way of largess in rupees. Umballaconsented because he was at the bottom of the sack. A priest read froma scroll the law, explaining that no woman might rule unmarried.Because the young queen was not conversant with the laws of the stateshe would be given seven days. Thus the durbar ended.

With a diplomacy which would have graced a better man Umballa directedthe troopers to escort Kathlyn to her chamber in the zenana. He had inmind seven days. Many things could be accomplished in that space oftime.

"For the present," he said, smiling at Kathlyn, "the God of yourfathers has proven strongest. But to-morrow!… Ah, to-morrow!There will be seven days. Think, then, deeply and wisely. Yourkhidmutgar Rao is a prisoner. It will be weeks ere your presence isknown here. You are helpless as a bird in the net. Struggle if youwill; you will only bruise your wings. The British Raj? The BritishRaj does not want a great border war, and I can bring down ten thousandwild hillmen outlaws between whom and the British Raj there is a bloodfeud; ten thousand from a land where there is never peace, only truce.In seven days. Salaam, heaven born!"

She returned his ironical gaze calmly over the shoulder of a trooper.

"Wait," she said. "I wish you to understand the enormity of yourcrime."

"Crime?" with elevated eyebrows.

"Yes. You have abducted me."

"No. You came of your own free will."

"The white men of my race will not pause to argue over any suchsubtlety. Marry you? I do not like your color."

A dull red settled under Umballa's skin.

"I merely wish to warn you," she went on, "that my blood will be uponyour head. And woe to you if it is. There are white men who will notawait the coming of the British Raj."

"Ah, yes; some brave hardy American; Bruce Sahib, for instance. Alas,he is in the Straits Settlements! Seven days."

"I am not afraid to die."

"But there are many kinds of death," and with this sinister reflectionhe stepped aside.

The multitude, seeing Kathlyn coming down from the dais, stillsurrounded by her cordon of troopers, began reluctantly to disperse."Bread and the circus!"—the mobs will cry it down the ages; they willalways pause to witness bloodshed, from a safe distance, you may besure. There was a deal of rioting in the bazaars that night, and manya measure of bhang and toddy kept the fires burning. Oriental politicsis like the winds of the equinox: it blows from all directions.

The natives were taxed upon every conceivable subject, not dissimilarto the old days in Urdu, where a man paid so much for the privilege ofsqueezing the man under him. Mutiny was afoot, rebellion, but it hadnot yet found a head. The natives wanted a change, something to gossipabout during the hot lazy afternoons, over their hookas and coffee. Tothem reform meant change only, not the alleviation of some of theirheavy burdens. The talk of freeing slaves was but talk; slaves werelucrative investments; a man would be a fool to free them. An old man,with a skin white like this new queen's and hair like spun wool,dressed in a long black cloak and a broad brimmed hat, had started theagitation of liberating the slaves. More than that, he carried no idolof his God, never bathed in the ghats, or took flowers to the temples,and seemed always silently communing with the simple iron crosssuspended from his neck. But he had died during the last visitation ofthe plague.

They had wearied of their tolerant king, who had died mysteriously;they were now wearied of the council and Umballa; in other words, theyknew not what they wanted, being People.

Who was this fair-skinned woman who stood so straight before Umballa'seye? Whence had she come? To be ruled by a woman who appeared to betongue-tied! Well, there were worse things than a woman who could nottalk. Thus they gabbled in the bazaars, round braziers and dung fires.And some talked of the murder. The proud Ramabai had been haled toprison; his banker's gold had not saved him. Oh, this street ratUmballa generally got what he wanted. Ramabai's wife was one of thebeauties of Hind.

Through the narrow, evil smelling streets of the bazaars a man hurriedthat night, glancing behind frequently to see if by any mischance someone followed. He stopped at the house of Lal Singh, the shoemaker,whom he found drowsing over his water pipe.

"Is it well?" said the newcomer, intoning.

"It is well," answered Lal Singh, dropping the mouthpiece of his pipe.He had spoken mechanically. When he saw who his visitor was his eyesbrightened. "Ahmed?"

"Hush!" with a gesture toward the ceiling.

"She is out merrymaking, like the rest of her kind. The old saying: ifa man waits, the woman comes to him. I am alone. There is news?"

"There is a journey. Across Hind to Simla."

"The hour has arrived?"

"At least the excuse. Give these to one in authority with the BritishRaj, whose bread we eat." Ahmed slid across the table a very smallscroll. "The Mem-sahib is my master's daughter. She must be spiritedaway to safety."

"Ah!" Lal Singh rubbed his fat hands. "So the time nears when weshall wring the vulture's neck? Ai, it is good! Umballa, the toad,who swells and swells as the days go by. Siva has guarded him well.The king picks him out of the gutter for a pretty bit of impudence,sends him afar to Umballa, where he learns to speak English, where helearns to wear shoes that button and stiff linen bands round the neck.He has gone on, gone on! The higher up, the harder the fall."

"The cellar?"

"There are pistols and guns and ammunition and strange little wires bywhich I make magic fires."

"Batteries?"

"One never knows what may be needed. You have the key?"

"Yes."

"Hare Sahib's daughter. And Hare Sahib?" with twinkling eyes.

"In some dungeon, mayhap. There all avenues seemed closed up."

"Umballa needs money," said Lal Singh, thoughtfully. "But he will notfind it," in afterthought.

"To-morrow?"

"At dawn."

These two men were spiders in that great web of secret service that theBritish Raj weaves up and down and across Hind, to Persia andAfghanistan, to the borders of the Bear.

Even as Lal Singh picked up his mouthpiece again and Ahmed salliedforth into the bazaars Umballa had brought to him in the armory thatcompany of soldiers who had shown such open mutiny, not against thestate but against him.

Gravely he questioned the captain.

"Pay our wages, then, heaven born," said the captain, with veiledinsolence. "Pay us, for we have seen not so much as betel money sincethe last big rains."

"Money," mused Umballa, marking down this gallant captain for deathwhen the time came.

"Ai, money; bright rupees, or, better still, yellow British gold. Payus!"

"Let us be frank with each other," said Umballa, smiling to cover thefire in his eyes.

"That is what we desire," replied the captain with a knowing look athis silent troopers.

"I must buy you."

The captain salaamed.

"But after I have bought you?" ironically.

"Heaven born; our blood is yours to spill where and when you will."

From under the teak table Umballa drew forth two heavy bags of silvercoin. These he emptied upon the table dramatically; white shiningmetal, sparkling as the candle flames wavered. Umballa arranged thecoin in stacks, one of them triple in size.

"Yours, Captain," said Umballa, indicating the large stack.

The captain pocketed it, and one by one his troopers passed and helpedthemselves and fell back along the wall in military alignment,bright-eyed and watchful.

"Thanks, heaven born!"

The captain and his troopers filed out. Umballa fingered the emptybags, his brow wrinkled. Cut off a cobra's head and it could onlywriggle until sunset. Umballa gave the vanishing captain two weeks.Then he should vanish indeed.

The next morning while the council and Umballa were in session relativeas to what should be done with Kathlyn in the event of her refusal tobend, two soldiers entered, bringing with them a beautiful native youngwoman, one Pundita, wife of Ramabai, found in murder.

Umballa wiped his betel stained lips and salaamed mockingly. Not solong ago he had been attentive to this young woman—after her marriage.She had sent him about his business with burning ears and a hot cheek,made so by the contact of her strong young hand. Revenge, great orsmall, was always sweet to Umballa.

To the slave girl who attended Pundita he said: "Go summon the queen.It is for her to decide what shall be done with this woman."

Through the veil Pundita's black eyes sparkled with hatred.

When Kathlyn came in it was at once explained to her that the woman'shusband had been taken for murder; by law his wife became the queen'sproperty, to dispose of as she willed. The veil was plucked fromPundita's face. She was ordered to salaam in submission to her queen.Pundita salaamed, but stoutly refused to kneel. They proceeded toforce her roughly, when Kathlyn intervened.

"Tell her she is free," said Kathlyn.

"Free?" came from the amazed Pundita's lips.

"You speak English?" cried Kathlyn excitedly.

"Yea, Majesty."

Kathlyn could have embraced her for the very joy of the knowledge. Awoman who could talk English, who could understand, who perhaps couldhelp! Yes, yes; the God of her fathers was good.

Umballa smiled. All this was exactly what he had reason to expect.Seven days of authority; it would amuse him to watch her.

"Tell me your story," urged Kathlyn kindly. "Be not afraid of thesem*n. I shall make you my lady in waiting… so long as I am queen,"with a searching glance at Umballa's face. She learned nothing fromthe half smile there.

Pundita's narrative was rather long but not uninteresting. She hadlearned English from the old white priest who had died during the lastplague. She was of high caste; and far back in the days of the GreatMogul in Delhi her forebears had ruled here; but strife and rebellionhad driven them forth. In order that her immediate forebear mightreturn to their native state and dwell in peace they had waived allpossible rights of accession. They had found her husband standing overa dead man in the bazaars. He was innocent.

Umballa smoothed his chin. Pundita had not told her queen how he,Umballa, had made the accusation, after having been refused money byRamabai. He secretly admired the diplomacy of the young woman. He didnot at this moment care to push his enmity too far. As a matter offact, he no longer cared about her; at least, not since his arrival atthe Hare wild animal farm in California.

"Where is this man Ramabai confined?" demanded Kathlyn.

"In the murderers' pit in the elephant arena."

"Send and bring him here. I am certain that he is innocent."

So they brought in Ramabai in chains. Behind him came a Nautch girl,at whom Umballa gazed puzzledly. What part had she in this affair? Hesoon found out.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Lalla Ghori, and I live over the shoemaker, Lal Singh, in theKashmir Gate bazaar. I dance."

"And why are you here?"

"I saw the murder. Ramabai is innocent. He came upon the scene onlyafter the murderer had fled. They were fighting about me," naively."I was afraid to tell till now."

"Knock off those chains," said Kathlyn. Of Pundita she asked: "Doeshe, too, speak English?"

"Yes, heaven born."

"Then for the present he shall become my bodyguard. You shall bothremain here in the palace."

"Ah, Your Majesty!" interposed Umballa. Pundita he did not mind, buthe objected to Ramabai, secretly knowing him to be a revolutionist,extremely popular with the people and the near-by ryots (farmers), towhom he loaned money upon reasonable terms.

"If I am queen, I will it," said Kathlyn firmly. "If I am only aprisoner, end the farce at once."

"Your majesty's word is law," and Umballa bowed, hiding as best hecould his irritation.

The next afternoon he began to enact the subtle plans he had formedregarding Kathlyn. He brought her certain documents and petitions tosign and went over them carefully with her. Once, as she returned adocument, he caught her hand and kissed it. She withdrew it roughly,flaming with anger. He spread his hands apologetically. He was onfire for her, but he possessed admirable control. He had the right tocome and go; as regent he could enter the zenana without beingaccompanied by the council. But, thereafter, when he arrived with theday's business she contrived to have Pundita near and Ramabai withincall. On the sixth day he cast all discretion to the winds and seizedher violently in his arms. And, though she defended her lips, hercheeks and neck were defiled. She stepped back; the hidden daggerflashed.

"A step nearer," she cried, low voiced, "and I will strike."

Umballa recoiled. This was no longer Sa'adi's houri but the youngwoman who had mastered the lion in the railway train. Rage supplantedthe passion in his heart. Since she would not bend, she should break.As her arm sank he sprang forward like a cat and seized her wrist. Hewas not gentle. The dagger tinkled as it struck the marble floor. Hestooped for it.

"Since you will not bend, break!" he said, and left the chamber, coldwith fury.

Kathlyn sank weakly upon her pillows as Pundita ran to her side.

"What shall I do, Pundita?"

"God knows, Mem-sahib!"

"Are you a Christian?"

"Yes."

And so they comforted each other.

There was a garden in the palace grounds, lovely indeed. A fountaintinkled and fat carp swam about in the fluted marble basin. There weretrellises of flowers, too. Persian roses, despite the fact that it wasstill winter. It was called the garden of brides.

Kathlyn, attended by Pundita, awaited there the coming of Umballa andthe council. Her heart ached with bitterness and she could not thinkclearly. The impression that all this was some dreadful nightmarerecurred to her vividly. What terrors awaited her she knew not norcould conceive. Marry that smiling demon?—for something occult toldher that he was a demon. No; she was ready to die… And but alittle while ago she had been working happily in the outdoor studio;the pet leopard sprawled at her feet; from the bungalow she heard thenightingale voice of Winnie, soaring in some aria of Verdi's; herfather was dozing on the veranda. Out of that, into this! It wasincredible. From time to time she brushed her forehead, bewildered.

In this mood, bordering on the hysterical (which is sometimes but astep to supreme courage), Durga Ram, so-called Umballa, and the councilfound her. The face of the former was cold, his eyes steady andexpressionless.

"Has your majesty decided?" asked the eldest of the council.

"Yes," quietly.

"And your decision is?"

"No, absolutely and finally. There is no reason why I should obey anyof your laws; but there is a good reason why all of you shall some daybe punished for this outrage."

"Outrage! To be made queen of Allaha?" The spokesman for the councilstamped his foot in wrath.

"Think!" said Umballa.

"I have thought. Let us have no more of this cat-and-mouse play. Irefuse to marry you. I'd much prefer any beggar in the street. Thereis nothing more to be said."

"There are worse things than marriage."

"What manner of indignities have you arranged for me?" Her voice wasfirm, but the veins in her throat beat so hardily that they stifled her.

Said the spokesman of the council: "We have found a precedent. We findthat one hundred and ninety years ago a like case confused the councilof that day. They finally agreed that she must submit to two ordealswith wild beasts of the jungle. If she survived she was to bepermitted to rule without hindrance. It would be a matter for the godsto decide."

"Are you really human beings?" asked Kathlyn, her lips dry. "Can youpossibly commit such a dreadful crime against one who has never harmedyou, who asks for nothing but the freedom to leave this country?"

Pundita secretly caught Kathlyn's hand and pressed it.

"Once more!" said Umballa, his compassion touched for the first time.But he had gone too far; for the safety of his own head he must go on.

"I am ready!"

The four men salaamed gravely. They turned, the flowing yellow robesof the council fluttering in the wind, the sun lighting with green andred fires the hilt of Umballa's sword. Not one of them but would haveemptied his private coffers to undo what he had done. It was too late.Already a priest had announced the ordeals to the swarming populace.You feed a tiger to pacify him; you give a populace a spectacle.

That night Umballa did not rest particularly well. But he becamedetermined upon one thing: no actual harm should befall Kathlyn. Hewould have a marksman hidden near by in both ordeals. What a woman!She was a queen, and he knew that he would go through all the hells ofHind to call her his. Long ere this he would have looted the treasurechests and swept her up on his racing elephant had he dared. Sa'adi'shouri!

A thousand times he heard it through the night:

"I am ready!"

CHAPTER IV

HOW TIME MOVES

Meantime Lal Singh was hurrying on a racing camel toward the railway,toward Simla, more than a thousand miles away. He was happy. Here wasthe long delayed opportunity for the hand of the British Raj: a captivewhite woman. What better excuse was needed? There would be armed Sikhsand Gurhas and Tommies near Rawal Pindi. Ai! how time moved, how fatetwisted! How the finest built castle in schemes came clattering down!At the very moment when he had secretly worked upon the king to throwhimself into the protecting arms of the British Raj—assassinated! Thecouncil? Umballa? Some outsider, made mad by oppression? The egg ofBrahma was strangely hatched—this curious old world!

Ahmed remained hidden in the bazaars, to await the ordeals. Nothingshould harm his mistress; he was ready now and at all times to lay downhis life for her; in this the British Raj came second. He had sent acourier to Bruce Sahib's bungalow, but the man had returned to reportthat it was still unoccupied.

And while he bit his nails in futile wrath and smoked till his tonguegrew bitter, some miles away there was much confusion in the jungle bythe water. Tents were being set up, native bearers and coolies wererunning to and fro, building fires, carrying water, hobbling the packelephants. Wandering in and out of this animated scene was a young man,clean shaven, deeply tanned, with blue eyes which were direct, smallpupiled, yet kindly. Presently he called to one of the head men.

"Ali, you might send three or four men on to the bungalow to clean upthings. We shall make it tomorrow. It's but two hours' ride, butthere's no hurry; and besides there's a herd of elephants behind ussomewhere. They've come up far for this time of year."

"Any news worth while?"

"Yes, Sahib."

Ali made a gesture; it signified a great many things.

"Bruce Sahib will not believe."

"Believe what?" said Bruce, emptying his pipe against his heel.

"There is a white queen in the city."

"What? What bally nonsense is this?"

"It is only what I've been told, Sahib. Hare Sahib is dead."

Bruce let his pipe slip through his fingers. "Hare? Good lord!"

"Yes, Sahib. But that is not all. It seems the king went mad after wewent to Africa. You remember how Hare Sahib saved him from the leopard?Well, he made Hare Sahib his heir. He had that right; the law of thechildless king has always read so in Allaha. The white queen is HareSahib's daughter."

Bruce leaned against a tent pole. "Am I dreaming or are you?" he gasped.

"It is what they tell me, Sahib. I know it not as a fact."

"The king dead, Hare dead, and his daughter on the throne! How did sheget here? And what the devil is a chap to do?" Bruce stooped andrecovered his pipe and swore softly. "Ali, if this is true, then it'ssome devil work; and I'll wager my shooting eye that that sleek scoundrelUmballa, as they call him, is at the bottom of it. A white woman, goodold Hare's daughter. I'll look into this. It's the nineteenth century,Ali, and white women are not made rulers over the brown, not of their ownfree will. Find out all you can and report to me," and Bruce dismissedhis servant and fell to pacing before his tent.

The native who had spread this astounding news in Bruce's camp wasalready hastening back to the city, some fourteen miles away. He hadbeen a bheestee (water carrier) to the house of Ramabai up to the youngbanker's incarceration. To him, then, he carried the news that a whitehunter had arrived outside the city—"Bruce Sahib has returned!"

Ramabai lost no time in taking this news to Kathlyn.

"Ramabai, I have saved your life; save mine. Go at once to him and tellhim that I am a prisoner but am called a queen; tell him I am ColonelHare's daughter, she who traveled with him on the same ship from Hongkongto Singapore. Go! Tell him all, the death of my father and Umballa'streachery. Hasten!"

Bruce was eating his simple evening meal when Ramabai arrived.

"Bruce Sahib?"

"Yes. Your face is familiar."

"You have been twice to my bank. I am Ramabai."

"I remember. But what are you doing here?"

"I have come for aid, Sahib, aid for a young woman, white like yourself."

"Then it is true? Go ahead and let me have all the facts. She is HareSahib's daughter; Ali told me that. Precious rigmarole of some sort.The facts!"

"She is also the young lady who traveled in the same boat from Hongkongto Singapore." Ramabai paused to see the effect of this information.

Bruce lowered his fork slowly. The din about him dwindled away intonothing. He was again leaning over the rail, watching thephosphorescence trail away, a shoulder barely touching his: one of thefew women who had ever stirred him after the first glance. In God'sname, why hadn't she said something? Why hadn't she told him she wasColonel Hare's daughter? How was he to know? (For Hare, queerly enough,had never shown his young friend the photographs of his daughters.)Perhaps he had been at fault; he, too, had scarcely stirred from hisshell. And where was that scoundrel Rao?

"I shall enter the city as soon as I can settle my bungalow. This ratherknocks me out."

"No, Sahib; don't wait: come back with me!" Quickly he outlined thedesperate straits in which Kathlyn stood. "To-morrow may be too late."

"Ali!" called Bruce, rising.

"Yes, Sahib."

"The Pasha. No questions. Give him water. Use the hunting howdah.Both guns and plenty of cartridges. That's all." The young man ran intohis sleeping tent and presently came forth with a pair of ugly lookingColts; for this was before the days of the convenient automatics. "Allaboard, Ramabai!" Bruce laughed; the sound was as hard and metallic asthe click of the cartridge belt as he slung it round his waist; but itwas music to Ramabai's ears. "Trust me. There shan't be any ordeals;not so you would notice it.… Great God! A white woman, one of mykind!… All right, Ali; quick work. Thanks!"

"There will be many pitfalls, Sahib," said Ramabai.

"Indeed!"

"I have some influence with the populace, but Umballa has the army, paidfor. The priests and the council are back of him. And, after all, thepriests are most to be feared. They can always sway the people throughfear."

Bruce laughed again. "Either Kathlyn Hare will be free to-morrow orUmballa and the council meat for the jackals… or I shall be," headded, in afterthought. "Now, do not speak till I speak. I wish tothink, for I've got to act quickly; I can't make any mistakes when I getthere."

Far away a brown figure in clout and drab turban watched the young man.When he saw the elephant with the hunting howdah he knew that he had theinformation for which his master had detailed him to follow, night andday, the young banker Ramabai. The white hunter was coming hot-foot tothe city. He turned and ran. Running was his business; he was astireless as a camel and could run twenty and thirty miles at a stretch.The soles of his feet were as tough as elephant's hide. Thus he reachedthe city an hour before Bruce and Ramabai.

When Bruce and the native banker arrived at the gate coolies stood aboutwith torches. Suddenly beyond the gate half a regiment drew up. Theofficer in charge raised his hand warningly.

"The white hunter is Bruce Sahib?"

"Yes." Bruce spoke the dialects with passable fluency.

"Good. The Sahib will be pleased to dismount."

"I am on my way to the palace."

"That is impossible, Sahib." At a sign from the officer the troopersextended their guns at half aim. It was a necessary precaution. Thesewhite sahibs were generally a mad people and were quick to shoot."Please dismount, Sahib. It is the orders."

Bruce's mahout, who was a Rajput Mohammedan, turned his head to learnwhat his master had to say. Bruce, pale under his tan, nodded. Themahout reached down with his silver tipped goad and touched the elephanton the knee. The big brute slowly and ponderously kneeled. Brucestepped out of the howdah, followed by Ramabai, who saw that in someunaccountable manner they had been betrayed. He was sick at heart.

Two troopers stepped forward and took possession of the rifles which wereslung on each side of the howdah. Bruce accepted the situationphilosophically; argument or protest was futile. Next they took away hiscartridge belt. He trembled for a moment with apprehension, but thetroopers did not search him further; and he thanked God for the wisdomwhich had made him strap his revolvers under his armpits.

"What now?" he demanded.

"The Sahib will be given his guns and ammunition the hour he starts backto camp."

"And in the meantime?"

"The Sahib is free to come and go about the city so long as he does notapproach the palace. If he is found in the vicinity of the zenana hewill be arrested and imprisoned."

"This is all very high-handed."

"Sahib, there is no British Raj here. The orders of the regent and thecouncil are final. Submit."

"Very well."

"Ramabai!"

Ramabai stepped forward. By a kind of clairvoyance he saw what wascoming.

"Ramabai, the orders are that you shall retire to your house and remainthere till further orders."

"I am the queen's body-guard."

"Ai! Well said! But I do not take my orders from the queen—yet. Obey.The Sahib may accompany you if he wishes; there are no orders againstthat. The Sahib's elephant will be lodged in the royal stables; themahout will see that he is fed and watered."

"We have been betrayed," said Ramabai. "I know not how."

"You were followed. A moment," said Bruce, turning to the officer. "Ihave a servant by the name of Rao. I believe he acted as bearer to theyoung lady at the palace. What has become of him?"

The officer smiled and shook his head.

"Rao is a prisoner, then," thought the young man. "That black scoundrelUmballa is at least thorough." Aloud he said: "We shall go at once toyour house, Ramabai."

And all through the night they planned and planned, but not knowing wherethe first ordeal was to take place, nor the hour, they found themselvesgoing round in a circle, getting nowhere. To a man of action like Bruceit was maddening. He walked out of the house into the garden and backagain at least a dozen times, always to find Ramabai with his head helddespairingly in his hands. Another time Bruce opened the door to thestreet; two troopers squatted on each side of the threshold. Umballa wasin earnest. The rear gate was also guarded. How to get Ramabai out,that was the problem.

He slept a little before dawn, and was aroused by voices below. Helistened.

"I am Jawahir Lal, the water carrier. Each day at dawn I water thegarden of Ramabai to pay a debt."

Bruce looked toward Ramabai, who slept the sleep of the profoundlywearied. A bheestee, perhaps a messenger.

"Go around to the rear gate, which can be opened," said the trooper.

Bruce went to the window overlooking the garden. He saw the watercarrier enter through the bamboo gate, heard the water slosh aboutjerkily as the bheestee emptied his goatskin. He watched the mancuriously; saw him drop the skin and tiptoe toward the house, glance toright and left alertly. Then he disappeared. Presently at the head ofthe stairs Bruce heard a whisper—"Ramabai!"

"Who is it?" Bruce whispered in the dialect.

"Ahmed."

Ahmed. Who was Ahmed?

Bruce shook Ramabai. "Ahmed is here. Who is he?" he asked softly.

"Ahmed?" drowsily. Then, wide awake enough: "Ahmed? He was Hare Sahib'shead animal man. Where is he?"

"Hush! Not so loud. Come up, Ahmed; I am Bruce. Let us speak inEnglish."

"Good!" Ahmed came into the chamber. "To see Bruce Sahib is good.To-morrow my master's daughter is to be carried into the jungle. TheMem-sahib is to be tied inside a tiger trap, bait for the cat. That isthe first ordeal."

"Shaitan!" murmured Ramabai.

"Go on, Ahmed."

"The cage will be set near the old peepul tree, not far from the southgate. Now, you, Sahib, and you, Ramabai, must hide somewhere near. Itis the law that if she escapes the ordeal from unexpected sources she isfree, at least till the second ordeal. I know not what that is atpresent or when it is to take place. The troops will be there, and thepopulace, the council, the priest and Umballa. I shall have two swiftcamels near the clump of bamboo. I may not be there, but some one will.She must be hurried off before the confusion dies away. Must, Sahib.There must be no second ordeal."

"But how am I to get out of here?" asked Ramabai. "Guards all about, anddoubtless bidden to shoot if I stir!"

"Tch! Tch!" clicked Ahmed. He unwound his dirty turban and slipped outof the ragged shirtlike frock. "These and the water skin below. Abheestee entered, a bheestee goes out. What is simpler than that? It isnot light enough for the soldiers to notice. There is food and waterhere. Trust me to elude those bhang-guzzlers outside. Am I a ryot, afarmer, to twist naught but bullocks' tails?"

"Ahmed," said Bruce, holding out his hand, "you're a man."

"Thanks, Sahib," dryly. "But hasten! At dawn to-morrow, or lateto-night, Ramabai returns with a full water skin. The Mem-sahib must atleast stand the ordeal of terror, for she is guarded too well. Yet, ifthey were not going to bind her, I should not worry. She has animalmagic in her eye, in her voice. I have seen wild beasts grow still whenshe spoke. Who knows? Now, I sleep."

Bruce and Ramabai had no difficulty in passing the guards. The whitehunter was free to come and go, and the sleepy soldiers saw the waterskin which Ramabai threw carelessly over his head. They sat down againstthe wall again and replenished the dung fire. Bruce and Ramabai wiselymade a wide detour to the peepul tree, which they climbed, disturbing theapes and the parrakeets.

Somewhere near eight o'clock they heard the creaking of wheels and amurmur of voices. Shortly into their range of vision drew a pair ofbullocks, pulling a tiger trap toward the clearing. This cage was ofstout wood with iron bars. The rear of the cage was solid; the front hada falling door. The whole structure rested upon low wheels, and therewas a drop platform which rested upon the ground. An iron ring wasattached to the rear wall, and to this was generally tied a kid, thebleating of which lured the tiger for which the trap was laid. Themoment the brute touched the bait the falling door slid down, imprisoningthe prowler.

When Bruce saw this damnable thing he understood, and he shook withhorror and voiceless rage. He caught Ramabai by the arm so savagely thata low cry came from the brown man's lips.

"Patience, Sahib!" he warned. "Without you what will the Mem-sahib do?They will tie her in that and liberate a tiger. The rest lies with you,Sahib."

"Ramabai, as God hears me, some one shall pay for this!… Thenineteenth century, and I am wide awake! I may not be able to kill thebrute with these revolvers, but I'll stop him, even if I have to use mybare hands.… Kathlyn Hare!"

"Hush!" again warned Ramabai, hugging his perch.

Later by half an hour Bruce witnessed a spectacle such as few white men,happily for their reason, are permitted to see. Kathlyn, in her royalrobes (for ordeals of this character were ceremonials), a necklace ofwonderful emeralds about her throat, stepped from her palanquin and stoodwaiting. From other vehicles and conveyances stepped Umballa, thecouncil and the yellow robed priests. Troops also appeared, and behindthem the eager expectant populace. They were to be amused. There weremany of them, however, who hoped that a miracle would happen.

"Ramabai," whispered Bruce, "she is as beautiful as a dream. If I hadonly known! Well, there's going to be a miracle. See how straight shestands; not a sign of fear in her face. There's a woman… a womanfor me!" he added under his breath.

He saw the bejeweled turban of Umballa bend toward the girl, and it washard to resist taking a pot at the man. Kathlyn shook her head.Thereupon she was led to the trap, her hands bound and the rope round herwaist attached securely to the ring.

Ah, they talked about it that night in the surging bazaars, in thepalace, wherever two persons came together: how the white hunter hadappeared from nowhere, rushed toward the trap as the tiger approached,entered and dropped the door, blazed away at the beast, who turned tailand limped off into the jungle. Ai! It was a sight for eyes. Theycould laugh behind Umballa's back, the gutter born, the iron heeledupstart; they could riddle (confidentially) the council with rude jests.The law was the law; and none, not even the priests in their shaven pollsand yellow robes, might slip beyond the law as it read. The first ordealwas over. Nor, as the law read, could they lay hands upon this braveyoung man. Ai! it was good. Umballa must look elsewhere for his chiefwife; the Mem-sahib would not adorn his zenana. It was more than good,for now there would be a second ordeal; more amusem*nt, perhaps anothermiracle. True, they had taken away the pistols of the white Sahib, buthe had his hands.

"Thank you," Kathlyn had said. "Somehow I knew you would come." Andwhat she had seen in his eyes had made her tremble visibly for the firsttime that day.

She was conducted back to the palace. The populace howled and cheeredabout her palanquin to the very gates. Not in many a big rain had theyhad such excitement.

The fury in Umballa's heart might have disquieted Bruce had he known ofits existence.

Kathlyn, arriving in her chamber, flung herself down upon her cushionsand lay there like one dead, nor would she be comforted by the worshipingPundita. Bruce had saved her this time, but it was not possible that hecould repeat the feat.

Having convinced Umballa and the council that she would not marry herpersecutor, the council announced to the populace that on the next feteday the queen would confront the lions in the elephant arena. What couldone man do against such odds? Lions brought from the far Nubian deserts,fierce, untamable.

That night there was a conference between Bruce, Ahmed and Ramabai.

"They have taken my guns away, and God knows I can't do the impossible.Where the devil were your camels, Ahmed?"

"Umballa has his spies, Ramabai," said Ahmed, smiling, as he got into hisbheestee rags, which Ramabai had surrendered willingly enough: "Ramabai,thou conspirator, what about the powder mines you and your friends hidwhen the late king signified that he was inclined toward Britishprotectorate? Eh? What about the republic thou hadst dreams of? Poorfool! It is in our blood to be ruled by kings, oppressed; we should notknow what to do with absolute freedom. There! Fear not. Why should Ibetray thee? The mines. The arena is of wood."

"But there will be many of my friends there," said the bewilderedRamabai. Who was this strange man who seemed to know everything?

"Put the mines in the center of the arena. What we want is merely terrorand confusion. Pouf! Bang! There's your miracle. And a little oneunder the royal pavilion. And Umballa and the council sleep in Shaitan'sarms. Welcome, my lambs!" And Ahmed laughed noiselessly.

"By the lord!" gasped Bruce. "But the fuses? No, no, Ahmed; it can notbe done."

"In the house of my friend Lal Singh there is a cellar full of strangemagic—magic with copper wires that spit blue fires. Eh, Sahib? You andI know; we have traveled."

"Batteries, here, in this wilderness?"

"Even so. To you, Ramabai, the powder; to me, the spitting wires; toyou, Bruce Sahib, patience. Umballa shall yet wear raw the soles of hisfeet in the treadmill. He shall grind the poor man's corn. I know whatI know. Now I must be off. I shall return to-morrow night and you,Ramabai, shall gather together your fellow conspirators (who would blowup the palace!) and bring the mines to the arena."

And while Kathlyn gazed through the marble lattice at the bright starsanother gazed at the sunny heavens in a far country, a sprite of a girlwith dark tearful eyes. Father gone, sister gone; silence.

But a few yards away from Kathlyn a man plucked at his chains, praying toGod that he might not lose his reason. With the finished cruelty of theEast, Umballa had not visited Colonel Hare again. There is nothing likesuspense to squeeze hope and courage from the heart of man.

* * * * * *

On the night before the ordeal men moved cautiously about the elephantarena. It was only after much persuasion and argument could Bruce holdthe men. At the testing of Lal Singh's wires and batteries they hadstarted to fly. This was devil's fire.

At the end of the arena, in a box which Bruce was to occupy, by order ofthe council (where they proposed to keep an eye upon Umballa and to wringhis heart), the key to the wires was laid. This box was directly over awooden canopy where the mahouts loafed between fights. Back of thiscanopy was a door which led outside. Through this Bruce proposed to leadKathlyn during the confusion created by the explosion. They had carriedoff the keeper (who was also guardian of the arena), and the key to thisdoor reposed in Bruce's pocket.

On the day of the ordeal only the bedridden remained at home. Thetemples, the palaces, the bazaars, all were deserted as thoroughly as ifthe black wings of the plague had swept through the city. Even the crowsand the kites were there, the one chattering; the other soaring highabove.

Ramabai was forced to sit with the council, much to his terror. Aftermuch pleading the council was prevailed upon to permit him to sit withBruce. A cordon of soldiers was accordingly detailed to surround Bruce'sbox at the rear.

When Kathlyn arrived she was placed under the canopy: another bit ofkindly attention on the part of Umballa to twist the white man's heart.But nothing could have happened more to the satisfaction of Bruce.

"Kathlyn Hare," he called out softly in Spanish, "do you hear andunderstand me?"

"Yes," she replied in the same tongue. "Do nothing desperate. Don'tthrow away your life. I have a sister in America. Will you tell her?"

"Listen. Under no circ*mstances leave the canopy. The lions come fromthe other side. We are not only going to rescue but save you. Attend mecarefully. Behind you is a door. There will be an explosion in thecenter of the arena. There was to be another under our friend Umballa,but the battery was old. Press over toward that door. I have the key."

"Ah, Mr. Bruce!"

"Kathlyn, my name is John."

"The lions, the lions!" howled the populace.

It seemed to Bruce that he had been suddenly flung back into antiquityand that Nero sat yonder, squinting through his polished emerald. Thegreat, tawny African brutes blinked and turned their shaggy heads thisway and that, uneasily. Kathlyn stood very still. How, how could theysave her? At length the lions espied her, attracted by the white of herrobe. One bounded forward, growling. The others immediately started inpursuit.

Suddenly the center of the arena opened and a tremendous roar followed.A low wail of terror ran round the arena. Surely this Mem-sahib had allthe gods with her. A great crevice had opened up between Kathlyn and thelions, one of which lay dead. Then came the rush toward the exits, a madfrantic rush. Not even Umballa, who knew that not the gods, but man hadcontrived this havoc, not even Umballa waited, but fled, beating down allthose who blocked his path.

Bruce and Ramabai dropped over the railing to Kathlyn's side. But thekey upon which their escape depended would not unlock the door.

CHAPTER V

THE COURT OF THE LION

When Bruce dropped down into the arena to Kathlyn's side he had nevergiven a thought to the possibility of the key not being the right one.Trapped!—and Ahmed but a few yards away with a zenana gharry, ready toconvey them to the camp, freedom! It took the heart out of him for amoment. The confusion all about, the pall of dust, the roaring of thefrightened lions which had escaped destruction, the shrill cries of thepanic-stricken populace, who now looked upon the white Mem-sahib as thedaughter of Shaitan, these dulled his inventive faculties for thenonce. Here was the confusion, properly planned, and he could not makeuse of it. Possibly, when no further explosion shook the air, the moband the soldiers would return out of curiosity. And then, good-by!

But the sight of a lion emerging from the murk, the wrong side of thecrevice, roused him thoroughly.

"Save yourself!" said Kathlyn in despair: "there is no possible way ofsaving me. I have never in all my life injured any one, and yet Godmakes me go through all this.… I am mad, you are, the whole worldis!… Run!"

Bruce laughed; it was that kind of laughter with which men enterbattle. He drew Lal Singh's revolvers and thrust one into her hand.

"Shoot at the keyhole. Leave the lion to me. With the pandemonium noone will note the shots, or if they do, will think that more explosionsare on the way. I'll get you out of this nightmare; that's what I wasborn for."

"Nightmare!"

"There, now!"—as Kathlyn leaned dizzily against one of the supports.

"I've gone through a good deal," she said. Without more ado shepressed the muzzle of the revolver into the keyhole and fired. Sheheard a shot behind her, another and another; but she kept on firinginto and about the keyhole till the revolver was empty.

A firm hand drew her aside.

"The lion?"

"Gone to sleep. Let me have a whack at that door."

"Where's Ramabai?"

"Went back over the wall. Probably to warn Ahmed; maybe gone directlyoff toward camp. Anyhow, he has faith in me."

"And, oh! so have I, so have I!"

Bruce bore his weight savagely against the door, once, twice, thrice;and pitched forward on his knees, outside. He was up instantly. Hecaught Kathlyn by the hand and hurried her along; and all she couldthink of was Winnie romping toward the canopied studio, her father halfasleep on the veranda and the leopard cat sprawled on the divan!

"Sahib! Huzoor!" a voice called. "This way!"

"Ahmed! Ahmed!" cried Kathlyn.

"Yes, heaven born; but hurry, hurry! Umballa will return to search assoon as he can get the better of his legs. Siva take that battery thatwas worn out! Heaven born, you are now a queen in fact.…"

"I want to go home, Ahmed, home!"

"Here's the gharry. Here, Sahib!" He held out a handful of cartridgestoward Bruce. "These fit Lal Singh's pistols. Hurry, hurry!"

Bruce helped Kathlyn into the vehicle and jumped in beside her, andAhmed struck the horse. The gharry was a rickety old contrivance,every hinge creaking like some lost soul; but Ahmed had reasoned thatthe more dilapidated the vehicle, the less conspicuous it would be. Heurged the horse. He wanted the flying mob to think that he was flying,too, which, indeed, he was. The gharry rolled and careened like a doryin a squall. A dozen times Bruce and Kathlyn were flung together, andquite unconsciously she caught hold of his lean, strong brown hand. Itwould not be true to say that he was unconscious of the act.

Presently they entered the paved streets of the bazaars, and the goingimproved. Kathlyn leaned back.

"I am Kathlyn Hare, and this is the year…"

"Come now, Miss Kathlyn, no thinking; leave the whole business to me,the worry and the planning. If we can reach my elephants, all right;we'll be in Delhi within seven days. The rest of the going will be assimple as falling off a log."

That Yankee phrase did more to rehabilitate her than all his assurances.

From time to time Bruce stole a glance through the curtained window.Stragglers were hastening along close to the walls, and there weresoldiers who had forgot to bring their guns from the elephant arena.Once he heard the clatter of hoofs. A horseman ran alongside thegharry, slowed up, peered down and shrugged. Kathlyn shrank towardBruce. The rider proceeded on his way. Ahmed recognized him as theambassador from the neighboring principality, ruled by a Kumor, who wasin turn ruled by the British Raj. Kathlyn could not shut out the leeron his face.

By midafternoon the gharry reached Bruce's camp. Ramabai and Punditagreeted Kathlyn with delight. All their troubles were over. They hadbut to mount the elephants and ride away.

"Ahmed," urged Kathlyn, "leave the gharry and come with us."

"No, Mem-sahib,"—Ahmed gazed at her strangely—"I have work to do,much work. Allah guard you!" He struck the horse with his bamboostick and careened away.

"Let us be off!" cried Bruce. "We have sixty miles to put between usand freedom in fact. We can not make the railway. Ali, pack! Go tothe bungalow and remain there. You will be questioned. Tell thetruth. There is not an elephant in the royal stables that can beatRajah. All aboard! No stops!"—smiling as he helped Kathlyn into thehowdah. "We shall be forced to ride all night."

The elephants started forward, that ridden by Bruce and Kathlyn in thelead, Ramabai and Pundita following a few yards in the rear.

"Mr. Bruce, I am sure Ahmed has some information regarding father. Idon't know what. Who knows? They may have lied to me. He may bealive, alive!"

"I'll return and find out, once I've got you safe. I don't blame youfor thinking all this a nightmare. God knows it is nightmarish. Doyou know, I've been thinking it over. It appears to me that the kinglatterly took a dislike to his protege, Umballa, and turned this littletrick to make him unhappy. I dare say he thought your father wiseenough to remain away. Umballa hangs between wind and water; he can goneither forward nor backward. But poor Ramabai back there will losehis gold for this."

"Ramabai has always been very kindly to the poor, and the poor mangenerally defends his benefactor when the night-time comes. To UmballaI was only a means to the end. If he declared himself king, that wouldopen up the volcano upon which he stands; but as my prince consort,that would leave him fairly secure."

"Only a means," mused Bruce inwardly, stealing a glance at her sad yetlovely profile. Umballa was a man, for all his color; he was human;and to see this girl it was only human to want her. "Your father wasone of the best friends I had. But, oddly enough, I never saw aphotograph of you. He might have been afraid we young chaps…" Hepaused embarrassedly. "If only you had taken me into your confidenceon board the Yorck!"

"Ah, but did you offer me the chance?" she returned.

"I never realized till now that a chap might be too close lippedsometimes. Well, here we are, in flight together!"

That night for the first time in many hours Kathlyn closed her eyeswith a sense of security. True, it was not the most comfortable placeto sleep in, the howdah; there were ceaseless rollings from side toside, intermingled with spine racking bumps forward, as the elephantoccasionally hastened his stride. Kathlyn succeeded in stealing fromthe god of sleep only cat naps. Often the cold would awaken her, andshe would find that Bruce had been bracing her by extending his armacross the howdah and gripping the rail.

"You mustn't do that," she protested feebly. "You will be dead in themorning."

"You might fall out."

"Then I shan't go to sleep again till the journey ends. You have beenso good and kind to me!"

"Nonsense!"

They came out into the scrub jungle, and the moonlight lay magicallyover all things. Sometimes a shadow crossed the whitened sands;scurried, rather; and quietly Bruce would tell her what the animalswere—jackals, with an occasional prowling red wolf. They were notdisturbed by any of the cat family. But there was one interval ofsuspense. Bruce spied in the distance a small herd of wild elephants.So did Rajah, who raised his trunk and trumpeted into the night. Themahout, fully awake to the danger, beat the old rascal mightily withhis goad. Yet that would have failed to hold Rajah. Bruce averted thedanger by shooting his revolvers into the air. The wild elephantsstampeded, and Rajah, disgruntled, was brought to the compass.

"Strange thing about a gunshot," said Bruce. "They may never haveheard one before; but instinct tells them quickly of the menace. Yearsago at home, when I used to fish for bass, during the closed season I'dsee thousands of duck and geese and deer. Yet a single gunshot whenthe season opened and you never could get within a mile of them."

"That is true. I have fished and hunted with father."

"Surely! I keep forgetting that it's ten to one you know more aboutgame than I do."

Silence fell upon them again. On, on, without pausing. Bruce wasgetting sleepy himself, so he began munching biscuits. Lighter andlighter grew the east; the moon dimmed, and by and by everything grewgray and the chill in the air seemed sharpest yet.

They were both awake.

Sunup they stopped by a stream. Bruce dismounted without having theelephant kneel and went to the water to fill his canteen. The hunterin him became interested in the tracks along the banks. A tiger, aleopard, some apes, and a herd of antelopes had been down to drinkduring the night. Even as he looked a huge gray ape came bounding out,head-on toward Rajah, who despised these foolish beasts. Perhaps theold elephant missed Ali, perhaps he was still somewhat upset by hisfailure to join his wild brothers the night before; at any rate,without warning, he set off with that shuffling gait which sometimescarried him as swiftly as a horse. An elephant never trots nor reallyruns according to our conception of the terms; he shuffles, scarcelylifting his feet off the ground.

The mahout yelled and belabored the elephant on the skull. Rajah didnot mind this beating at all. Whatever his idea was, he evidentlyproposed to see it fulfilled.

Cunningly he dashed under some branches, sweeping the mahout off hisneck. The branches, with a crash as of musketry, struck the howdah,but it held, thanks to the stoutness of the belly bands and the carewith which they had been adjusted round the huge barrel.

Bruce stood up, appalled. For a time he was incapable of movement.Short as the time was, it was enough to give Rajah such headway as heneeded. He disappeared from sight. Bruce saw the futility of shootingat the beast. The only thing he could do was to mount up besideRamabai and Pundita and give chase; and this he did in short order,dragging up the bruised and shaken mahout with him. The pursuingelephant, with this extra handicap, never brought Rajah into sight.But the trail was clear, and they followed.

Surely that poor girl was marked for misfortune. In all the six yearsBruce had possessed Rajah he had never exhibited anything but docility.The elephant was not running amuck, though he might eventually workhimself into that blind ungovernable rage. Off like that, without theslightest warning! If Kathlyn could only keep him clear of the trees,for the old rogue would do his best to scrape off the irksome howdah.

Kathlyn heard the shouts from behind, but she could not understandwhether these were warnings or advice. Could they overtake her beforeshe was flung off? She tried to recall the "elephant talk" Ahmed hadtaught her in the old days at the farm, but just now she was too dazed.At the end of an hour all sounds from the rear ceased; no more pistolshots to encourage her with the knowledge that friends were near.Rajah must have outstripped them two or three miles.

At length she came into a small clearing amid the tall jungle grass, adead and brittle last year's growth. She saw two natives in the act ofkicking out a dung fire. Rajah headed directly toward them, the fireevidently being in the line of path he had chosen. This rare andunexpected freedom, this opportunity to go whither he listed, was asthe giant fern he used to eat in the days when he was free and wild inCeylon.

Kathlyn called out to the men, but they turned and fled in terror. Tothem Rajah was amuck. The elephant passed the fire so closely that thewind of his passing stirred the fire into life again; and this time itcrept toward the highly inflammable grass. A few hundred yards beyondKathlyn turned to see the flames leaping along the grass. Rajah,getting a whiff of the acrid smoke, quickened his stride. The firefollowed with amazing rapidity and stopped only when it reached the bedof a trickling stream, no doubt a torrent during the big rains. Agreat pall of smoke blotted out everything in the rear; blotted outhope, for Bruce could never pick up the trail now.

Kathlyn's eyes were feverishly dry and bright. It was only a matter oftime when the howdah would slip down the brute's side. She prayed thatshe might die instantly. Strange fancies flitted through her mind,disordered by all these days of suspense and terror.…

And suddenly the jungle came to an end, and a long plowed field openedinto view. Beyond this field rose a ruined wall, broken by a crumblinggate, and lounging in the gateway were soldiers. Near by were twoelephants employed in piling logs.

Rajah, perforce, slackened his gait. The soldiers became animated.Immediately the two mahouts charged their brutes toward Rajah, whostopped. He had had his sport. He swayed to and fro. One of themahouts reached forward and clouted Rajah on the knee. He slowlykneeled. The soldiers ran forward to help Kathlyn out of the howdah.At the sight of her skin their astonishment was great.

She was very weak and faint, and the increasing babel of tongues waslike little triphammers beating upon her aching head. One of thesoldiers gave her a drink of water. He held his canteen high, so thatthe water trickled into her mouth; no lips but his own must touch thenozzle, otherwise, being a Brahmin, he would be denied. Nativesinstantly flocked about, jabbering in wonder. Some of the boldertouched her bare arms. The soldiers drove them back angrily. Throughthe press a horseman pushed forward. The rider stared at the strangecaptive, started and uttered an astonished cry.

"The white queen of Allaha, whom mine own eyes saw crowned at thedurbar there!" he murmured. "By the shroud of the prophet what canthis mean? Stop!" he called to the soldiers. Kathlyn looked up dully."Convey her to his highness the Kumor!" The prince should decide whatshould be done with her.

The Kumor was big and lazy and sensual. He gazed upon Kathlyn witheyes which sparkled evilly, like a cat's.

"Who is this woman?" he demanded.

"Highness, she is the white queen of Allaha, but who may say that sheis here?" with a smile as evil as his master's.

"But how came she here?"

The horseman briefly recounted the events as he had seen them in thecapital of Allaha.

"Who are you, maiden?" the Kumor asked in English, for, like allpotentates, little or great, in India, he spoke English. It presentedthe delectable pastime of conspiring in two languages; for, from Bombayto Calcutta, from Peshawar to Madras, India seethes, conspires andtakes an occasional pot shot at some poor devil of a commissioner whoseonly desire is to have them combine religion and sanitation.

"I am an American. Please take me to the English commissioner."Somehow instinct told her that she might not expect succor from thisman with the pearls about his gross neck.

"I regret that his excellency the commissioner has gone to Bombay.Besides, I do not know that you tell the truth. Still, I can offer youwhat pearls and emeralds you may find to your liking."

"Your Highness, there are those whose coming shortly will cause youmuch annoyance if you refuse to give me proper aid. There is nopossible way for you to cover up my appearance here. Send me to thecommissioner's bungalow, where I may await the coming of my friends."

"Indeed!" The Kumor saw here a conflict not altogether to his liking.He was lazy, and there was the damnable, unrelenting hand of theBritish Raj looming in the distance. He shrugged. "Achmet, call thecaptain of the guard and have him convey this runaway queen to Allaha.Surely, I may not meddle with the affairs of a friendly state." With awave of his fat bejeweled hand he appeared to dismiss the matter fromhis mind.

Kathlyn was led away. The human mind can stand only so many shocks.

Outside the palace courtyard stood Rajah, the howdah securely attachedonce more, Kathlyn was bidden to mount. A water bottle and some cakeswere placed in the howdah beside her. Then a drunken mahout mountedbehind Rajah's ears. The elephant did not like the feel of the man'slegs, and he began to sway ominously. Nevertheless, he permitted themahout to direct him to one of the city gates, the soldiers troopingalongside.

It appeared that there was a much shorter route to Allaha. Time beingessential, Bruce had had to make for the frontier blindly, as it were.The regular highway was a moderately decent road which led along thebanks of one of those streams which eventually join the sacred Jumna.This, of course, was also sacred. Many Hindus were bathing in theghats. They passed by these and presently came upon a funeral pyre.

Sometimes one sleeps with one's eyes open, and thus it was withKathlyn. Out of that funeral pyre her feverish thoughts builded afrightful dream.

* * * * * *

The drunken mahout slid off Rajah; the soldiers turned aside. Hiredfemale mourners were kneeling about, wailing and beating their breasts,while behind them stood the high caste widow, her face as tragic asDido's at the pyre of Aeneas. Suddenly she threw her arms high overher head.

"I am suttee!"

Suttee! It was against the law of the British Raj. The soldiers beganarguing with the widow, but only half heartedly. It was a pious rite,worthy of the high caste Hindu's wife. Better death on the pyre than afuture like that of a pariah dog. For a wife who preferred to liveafter her husband was gone was a social outcast, permitted not to wedagain, to exist only as a drudge, a menial, the scum and contempt ofall who had known her in her days of prosperity.

The widow, having drunk from a cup which contained opium, climbed tothe top of the pyre where her husband lay, swathed in white. She gazedabout wildly, and her courage and resolve took wings. She stumbleddown. A low hissing ran about.

"Make the white woman suttee in her place!" cried the drunken mahout.

The cry was taken up by the spectators. Kathlyn felt herself draggedfrom the elephant, bound and finally laid beside the swathed figure.There could be no horror in the wide world like it. Smoke began tocurl up from the underbrush. It choked and stifled her. Sparks roseand dropped upon her arms and face. And through the smoke and flamecame Rajah. He lifted her with his powerful trunk and carried her off,for hours and hours, back into the trackless jungle.…

Kathlyn found herself, all at once, sitting against the roots of anaged banyan tree. A few yards away an ape sat on his haunches and eyedher curiously. A little farther off Rajah browsed in a clump of weeds,the howdah at a rakish angle, like the co*cked hat of a bully. Kathlynstared at her hands. There were no burns there; she passed a hand overher face; there was no smart or sting. A dream; she had dreamed it; afantasy due to her light-headed state of mind. A dream! She cried andlaughed, and the ape jibbered at her uneasily.

In reality, Rajah, freed of his unwelcome mahout, had legged it downthe road without so much as trumpeting his farewell, and the soldiershad not been able to stop him.

How she had managed to get down would always remain a mystery to her.Food and water, food and water; in her present state she must have bothor die. Let them send her back to Allaha; she was beaten; she waswithout the will to resist further. All she wanted was food and waterand sleep, sleep. After that they might do what they pleased with her.

For the first time since the extraordinary flight from Allaha Kathlynrecollected the "elephant talk" which Ahmed had taught her. She rosewearily and walked toward Rajah, who co*cked his ears at the sound ofher approach. She talked to him for a space in monotone. She held outher hands; the dry raspy trunk curled out toward them. Rajah wasevidently willing to meet her half-way. She ordered him to kneel.Without even pausing to think it over Rajah bent his calloused knees,and gratefully Kathlyn crawled back into the howdah. Food and water:these appeared at hand as if by magic. So she ate and drank. If shecould hold Rajah to a walk the howdah would last at least till she cameto some village.

Later, in the moonshine, she espied the ruined portico of a temple.

CHAPTER VI

THE TEMPLE

In the blue of night the temple looked as though it had been sculpturedout of mist. Here and there the heavy dews, touched by the moonlances, flung back flames of sapphire, cold and sharp. To Kathlyn thetemple was of marvelous beauty. She urged Rajah toward the crumblingportico.

It was a temple in ruins, like many in Hind. Broken pillars,exquisitely carved, lay about, and some of the tall windows of marblelace were punctured, as if the fist of some angry god had beatenthrough. Under the decayed portico stood an iron brazier. Near thisreposed a cracked stone sarcophagus: an unusual sight in this part ofthe world. It was without its lid. But one god now broodedhereabouts—Silence. Not a sound anywhere, not even from the near-bytrees. She saw a noiseless lizard slide jerkily across a patch ofmoonshine and dissolve into the purple shadow beyond.

What was this temple? What gods had been worshiped here? And why wasit deserted? She had heard her father tell of the ruined city ofChitor. Plague?… Kathlyn shuddered. Sometimes villages, to thelast soul in them, were brushed from existence and known no more toman. And this might be one of them. Yet indications of a village werenowhere to be seen. It was merely a temple, perhaps miles from thenearest village, deserted save by prowling wild beasts, the winds, thesunshine and the moonshine. She looked far and wide for any signs ofhuman habitation.

She commanded Rajah to kneel. So held by the enchanting picture wasKathlyn that the elephant's renewed restlessness (and he had reason, aswill be seen) passed unobserved by her. He came to his knees, however,and she got out of the howdah. Her legs trembled for a space, for hernerves were in a pitiable condition. Suddenly Rajah's ears wentforward, he rose, and his trunk curled angrily. With a whuff hewheeled and shuffled off toward the jungle out of which he had sorecently emerged.

"Halt!" cried Kathlyn. What had he heard? What had he seen? "Halt!"But even as she called the tall grass closed in behind the elephant.What water and food she had disappeared with him.

She paused by the brazier, catching hold of it for support. Shelaughed hysterically: it was so funny; it was all so out of joint withreal things, with every-day life as she had known it. Weird laughterreturned to mock her astonished ears, a sinister echo. And then shelaughed at the echo, being in the grip of a species of madness. In thepurple caverns of the temple she suddenly became conscious of anotherpresence. A flash as of moonlight striking two chrysoberyls took themadness out of her mind. This forsaken temple was the haunt of aleopard or a tiger.

She was lost. That magnetism which ordinarily was hers was at itsnadir. She hesitated for a second, then climbed into the emptysarcophagus, crouching low. Strangely enough, as she did so a calmfell upon her; all the terrors of her position dropped away from her asmists from the mountain peaks. She had, however, got into thehiding-place none too soon.

She heard the familiar pad-pad, the whiff-whiff of a big cat.Immediately into the moonlight came an African lion, as out of placehere as Kathlyn herself; his tail slashed, there was a long blackstreak from his mane to his tail where the hair had risen. Kathlyncrouched even lower. The lion trotted round the sarcophagus, sniffing.Presently he lifted his head and roared. The echoes played battledoreand shuttleco*ck with the sound. The lion roared again, this time atthe insulting echoes. For a few minutes the noise was deafening. Arumble as of distant thunder, and the storm died away.

By and by she peered out cautiously. She saw the lion crossing theopen space between the temple and the jungle. She saw him pause, bendhis head, then lope away in the direction taken by Rajah.

To Kathlyn it seemed that she had no longer anything to do with thebody of Kathlyn Hare. The soul of another had stepped into thiswearied flesh of hers and now directed its physical manifestations,while her own spirit stood gratefully and passively aloof. Nothingcould happen now; the world had grown still and calm. The spirit drewthe sleeves of the robe snugly about her arms and laid Kathlyn's headupon them and drew her down into a profound slumber.

Half a mile to the north of the ruined temple there lay, allunsuspected by Kathlyn, a village—a village belonging solely to thepoor, mostly ryots or tillers of the soil. The poor in Asia know buttwo periods of time—for rarely do they possess such a thing as a watchor a clock—sunset and sunrise. Perhaps the man of the family may sita while at dusk on his mud door-sill, with his bubbling water pipe (ifhe has one), and watch the stars slowly swing across the arch. A pinchof very bad tobacco is slowly consumed; then he enters the hunt[Transcriber's note: hut?], flings himself upon his matting (perhaps acotton rug, more likely a bundle of woven water reeds) and sleeps. Noone wakes him; habit rouses him at dawn. He scrubs his teeth with afibrous stick. It is a part of his religious belief to keep his teethclean. The East Indian (Hindu or Mohammedan) has the whitest, soundestteeth in the world if the betel-nut is but temperately used.

Beyond this village lay a ruined city, now inhabited by cobras andslinking jackals.

Dawn. A few dung fires smoldered. From the doorway of one of the mudhuts came a lean man, his naked torso streaked with wet ashes, hismatted hair hanging in knots and tangles on his emaciated shoulders.His aspect was exceedingly filthy; he was a holy man, which in this madcountry signifies physical debasem*nt, patience and fortitude such aswould have adorned any other use. A human lamprey, sticking himselfalways at the thin and meager board of the poor, a vile parasite, butholy!

The holy man directed his steps to the narrow beaten pathway which ledto the temple, where, every morning, he performed certain rites whichthe poor benighted ryots believed would some day restore the ruinedcity and the prosperity which attends fat harvests. The holy man hadsolemnly declared that it would take no less than ten years to bringabout this miracle. And the villagers fell down with their foreheadsin the dust. He was a Brahmin; the caste string hung about his neck;he was indeed holy, he who could have dwelt on the fat of the land, inmaharajahs' courts. The least that can be said is that he performedhis duties scrupulously.

So, then, the red rim of the March sun shouldered up above the rollingjungle as he came into the beaten clay court which fronted the temple.The lion stalked only at night, rarely appearing in the daytime. Oncea month he was given a bullock, for he kept tiger and leopard away, andthe villagers dwelt in peace. The lion had escaped from Allaha, wherethe species were kept as an additional sport. Since he had taken uphis abode in the temple there had been fewer thefts from the cattlesheds.

The holy man was about to assume his squatting posture in the center ofthe court, as usual, when from out of the sarcophagus rose languidly aform, shrouded in white. The form stretched its lovely arms, white asalabaster, and presently the hands rubbed a pair of sleepy eyes. Thenthe form sat down within the sarcophagus, laid its arms on the rim, andwearily hid its face in them.

The watcher was the most dumfounded holy man in all India. For thefirst time in his hypocritical life he found faith in himself, in hispuerile rites. He had conjured up yonder spirit, unaided, alone. Herose, turned, and never a holy man ran faster. When he arrived,panting and voiceless, at the village well, where natives were comingand going with water in goatskins and jars and copper vessels, he fellupon his face, rose to his knees, and poured hands full of dust uponhis head.

"Ai, ai!" he called. "It is almost done, my children. The first signhas come from the gods. I have brought you in human form the ancientpriestess!" And he really believed he had. "O my children, my littleones, my kids! I have brought her who will now attend to the sacredfires; for these alone will restore the city as of old, the fat corn,the plentitude of fruit. Since the coming of the lion two rains agothe leopard and the striped one have forsaken their lairs. One bullocka month is better than fire, together with the kids and the children.Ai!" More dust.

Naturally the villagers set down their water skins and jars and coppervessels and flocked about this exceptional holy man. They wanted tobelieve him, but for years nothing had happened but the advent of thelion, whence no one exactly knew, though the holy man had not beenbackward in claiming it was due to his nearness to the god Vishnu.

They followed him eagerly to the temple. What they beheld transfixedthem. A woman with skin like the petals of the lotus and hair likecorn sat in the sacred sarcophagus and braided her hair, gazing thewhile toward the bright sun.

The intake of many breaths produced a sound. Kathlyn turned instantlytoward this sound, for a moment expecting the return of the lion.Immediately holy man and villagers threw themselves upon the ground,striking their foreheads against the damp clay. The alien spirit stillruled the substance; Kathlyn eyed them in mild astonishment, not at allalarmed.

"Ai!" shrilled the holy man, springing to his feet. "Ai! She is ourancient priestess, rising from her tomb of centuries! Ai, ai! O thouunholy children, to doubt my word! Behold! Henceforth she shall sharethe temple with the lion, and later she will give us prosperity, and myname shall ever be in your households."

Having secured a priestess, he was now determined that he should notlose her. The future was roseate indeed, and when he took his nextpilgrimage to holy Benares they would bestrew his pathway with lotusflowers.

"Wood to start the sacred fires!" he commanded.

The villagers flew to obey his orders. He was indeed a holy man. Notin the memory of the oldest had a miracle such as this happened. Upontheir return with wood and embers the holy man built the fire, handinga lighted torch to Kathlyn and signifying for her to touch the tinder.The spirit in Kathlyn told her that these people meant her no immediateharm, so she stepped out of the sarcophagus and applied the torch. Themoment the flames began to crackle the villagers prostrated themselvesagain and the holy man besmeared his bony chest with more ashes.

A second holy man appeared upon the scene, wanting in breath. His jawdropped and his eyes started to leave their sockets. Knowing his ilkso thoroughly well, he flung himself down before the brazier and beathis forehead upon the ground; not in any chastened spirit, but becausehe had overslept that morning. This glory might have been his! Ai, ai!

Later the two conferred. During the day they should guard thepriestess, because, having taken human form, she might some day tire ofthis particular temple. At night she would be well guarded by the lion.

Several awestricken women came forward with bowls of cooked rice andfruits and a new copper drinking vessel. These they reverently placedat Kathlyn's feet.

Gradually the spirit which had comforted Kathlyn withdrew, and atlength Kathlyn became keenly alive. It entered her mind clearly thatthese poor foolish people really believed her a celestial being, and solong as they laid no hand upon her she was not alarmed. She hadrecently passed through too many terrors to be disturbed by a bit ofkindness, even if stirred into being by a religious fanaticism.

Kathlyn ate.

By pairs the villagers departed, and soon none remained save herself-appointed guardians, the two holy men. Kathlyn felt a desire toexplore this wonderful temple. She discovered what must have been theinner shrine. The chamber was filled with idols; here and there a bitof gold leaf, centuries old, glistened upon the bronze, the clay, thewood. The caste mark on the largest idol's head was a polished ruby,overlooked doubtless during the loot. She swept the dust from thejewel with the tip of her finger, and the dull fire sent a shiver ofdelight over her. She was still a woman.

As she wandered farther in her foot touched something and she lookeddown. It was a bone; in fact, the floor was strewn with bones. Shequickly discerned, much to her relief, that none of these bones washuman. This was, or had been, the den of the lion. There was an acridunpleasant odor, so she hurried back to the brazier. Vaguely shecomprehended that she must keep the fire replenished from time to timein order to pacify the two holy men. At night it would fend off anyapproach of the lion.

Where was Bruce? Would he ever find her? That philosophy which shehad inherited from her father, that quiet acceptance of the inevitable,was the one thing which carried her through her trials sanely. Anordinary woman would have died from mere exhaustion.

Bruce, indeed! At that very moment he was rushing out of the Kumor'spresence, wild to be off toward the road to Allaha, since Kathlyn hadnot been seen upon it. He found where Rajah had veered off into thejungle again, and followed the trail tirelessly. But it was to be hismisfortune always to arrive too late.

To Kathlyn the day passed with nothing more than the curiosity of thenatives to disturb her. They brought her cotton blankets which shearranged in the sarcophagus. There were worse beds in the world thanthis; at least it shielded her from the bitter night wind.

She ate again at sundown and builded high the sacred fire and tried toplan some manner of escape; for she did not propose to be ademi-goddess any longer than was necessary. From Pundita she hadlearned many words and a few phrases in Hindustani, and she ventured tospeak them to the holy men, who seemed quite delighted. They couldunderstand her, but she on her part could make little or nothing oftheir jabbering. Nevertheless, she pretended.

Finally the holy men departed, after having indicated the sacred fireand the wood beside it. This fire pleased Kathlyn mightily. While itburned brightly the lion would not prowl in her immediate vicinity.She wondered where this huge cat had come from, since she knew hernatural history well enough to know that African lions did not inhabitthis part of the globe. Doubtless it had escaped from some privatemenagerie.

The fire, then, giving her confidence, she did not get into thesarcophagus, but wandered about, building in her fancy the temple as ithad stood in its prime. The ceilings had been magnificently carved, notwo subjects alike; and the walls were of marble and jasper andporphyry. A magic continent this Asia in its heyday. When herforefathers had been rude barbarians, sailing the north seas orsacrificing in Druidical rites, there had been art and culture heresuch as has never been surpassed. India, of splendid pageants, ofbrave warriors and gallant kings! Alas, how the mighty had fallen!About her, penury, meanness, hypocrisy, uncleanliness, thievery andunbridled passions.… What was that? Her heart missed a beat.That pad-pad; that sniffling noise!

She whirled about, knocking over an idol. It came down with a crashand, being of clay, lay in shards at her feet. (Unfortunately it wasthe holy of holies in this temple.) How she gained the shelter of thesarcophagus she never knew, but gain it she did, and cowered downwithin. She could hear the beast trotting round and round, snifflingand rumbling in his throat. Then the roaring of the preceding nightwas repeated. The old fellow evidently could not find those otherlions who roared back at him so valiantly. Evidently fire had noterrors for him. For an hour or more he patrolled the portico, and allthis time Kathlyn did not stir, hardly daring to breathe for fear hemight undertake to peer into the sarcophagus.

Silence. A low roar from the inner shrine told her that for thepresent she was safe. To-morrow she must fly, whither did not matter.Toward four o'clock she fell into a doze and was finally awakened bythe sound of voices raised in anger.

Poor sheep! They had discovered the shattered idol. It did not matterat all that the return of their ancient goddess was to bring backprosperity. She had broken their favorite idol. Damnation would comein a devil's wind that night.

The holy man who had missed the chance of claiming the miraculousappearance of Kathlyn as a work of his own now saw an opportunity torehabilitate himself in the eyes of those who had made his holiness acomfortable existence. With a piece of the idol in his hand, he rousedKathlyn and shook the clay before her face, jabbering violently.Kathlyn understood readily enough. She had unwittingly committed asacrilege.

The natives gathered about and menaced her. Kathlyn rose, standing inthe sarcophagus, and extended her hands for silence. She wasfrightened, but it would never do to let them see it. What Hindustanishe knew would in this case be of no manner of use. But we humanbeings can, by facial expression and gesture, make known our messageswith understandable clearness. From her gestures, then, the holy mengathered that she could recreate the god. She pointed toward the sunand counted on her fingers.

The premier holy man, satisfied that he understood Kathlyn's gestures,turned to the justly angered villagers and explained that with his aidtheir priestess would, in five suns, recreate Vishnu in all his beauty.Instantly the villagers prostrated themselves.

"Poor things!" murmured Kathlyn.

The holy men sent the natives away, for it was not meet that theyshould witness magic in the making. They then squatted in the claycourt and curiously waited for her to begin. There was a well in theinner shrine. To this she went with caution. The lion was evidentlyforaging in the jungle. Kathlyn filled the copper vessel with waterand returned. Next, she gathered up what pieces of the idol she couldfind and pieced them together. Here was her model. She thenapproached one of the fakirs and signified that she had need of hisknife. He demurred at first, but at length consented to part with it.She dug up a square piece of clay. In fine, she felt more like theKathlyn of old than she had since completing the leopard in her outdoorstudio. It occupied her thoughts, at least part of them, for sherealized that mayhap her life depended upon her skill in reproducingthe hideous idol.

As the two old hypocrites saw the clay take form and shape and themocking face gradually appear, they were assured that Kathlyn wasindeed the ancient priestess; and deep down in their souls theyexperienced something of the awe they had often inspired in the poortrusting ryot.

Kathlyn had talent bordering on genius. The idol was an exact replicaof the original one; more, there was a subtle beauty now where beforethere had been a frank repulsiveness. It satisfied the holy men, andthe unveiling was greeted by the villagers with such joy that Kathlynforgave them and could have wept over them. She had made a god forthem, and they fell down and worshiped it.

Five more days passed. On the afternoon of the fifth day Kathlyn wasfeeding the fire. The holy men sat in the court at their devotions,which consisted in merely remaining motionless. Kathlyn returned fromthe fire to see them rise and flee in terror. She in turn fled, forthe lion stood between her and the sarcophagus! The lion paused,lashing his tail. The many recent commotions within and without thetemple had finally roused his ire. He hesitated between the holy menand Kathlyn, and finally concluded that she in the fluttering robeswould be the most desirable.

There was no particular hurry; besides, he was not hungry. The cat inhim wanted to play. He loped after Kathlyn easily. At any time hechose a few swift bounds would bring him to her side.

Beyond the temple lay the same stream by which, miles away, Kathlyn hadseen the funeral pyre and about which she had so weird a fantasy. Ifthis stream was deep there was a chance for life.

CHAPTER VII

QUICKSANDS

When Kathlyn came to the river she swerved toward the broadest part ofit. Twice she stumbled over boulders, but rose pluckily and, bruisedand breathless, plunged into the water. It was swift running andshoulder deep, and she was forced to swim strongly to gain the oppositeshore. She dragged herself up to the bank and, once there, lookedback. What she saw rather astonished her. She could not solve theriddle at first. The lion seemed to be struggling with some invisibleopponent. He stood knee deep in the sands, tugging and pulling. Hebegan to roar. Even as Kathlyn gazed she saw his chest touch the sandand his swelling flanks sink lower. Fascinated, she could not withdrawher gaze. How his mighty shoulders heaved and pulled! But down, down,lower and lower, till nothing but the great maned head remained inview. Then that was drawn down; the sand filled the animal's mouth andstopped his roaring; lower, lower…

Quicksands! The spot where he had disappeared stirred and glistenedand shuddered, and then the eternal blankness of sand.

She was not, then, to die? Should she return to the temple? Wouldthey not demand of her the restoration of the lion? She must go on,whither she knew not. She regretted the peace of the temple in thedaytime. She could see the dome from where she stood. Like Ishmael,she must go on, forever and forever on. Was God watching over her?Was it His hand which stayed the onslaught of the beast and defeatedthe baser schemes of men? Was there to be a haven at the end? Shesmiled wanly. What more was to beset her path she knew not, nor caredjust then, since there was to be a haven at the end.

Perhaps prescience brought to her mind's eye a picture; she saw herfather, and Bruce, and Winnie, and her sweetheart, and they seemed tobe toasting her from the end of a long table, under the blue Californiasky. This vision renewed her strength. She proceeded onward.

She must have followed the river at least a mile when she espied a raftmoored to a clump of trees. Here she saw a way of saving her wearylimbs many a rugged mile. She forded the stream, freed the raft, andpoled out into the middle of the stream.

It happened that the Mohammedan hunters who owned the raft were at thismoment swinging along toward the temple. On the shoulders of tworested a pole from which dangled the lifeless body of a newly killedleopard. They were bringing it in as a gift to the head man of thevillage, who was a thoroughgoing Mohammedan, and who held in contemptHinduism and all its amazing ramifications.

The white priestess was indeed a puzzle; for, while the handful ofMohammedans in the village were fanatical in their belief in the trueprophet and his Koran, and put little faith in miracles and still lessin holy men who performed them, the advent of the white priestessdeeply mystified them. There was no getting around this: she wasthere; with their own eyes they saw her. There might be something inHinduism after all.

When the hunters arrived at the portico of the temple they found twogreatly terrified holy men, shrilling their "Ai! Ai!" in lamentationand beating their foreheads against the earth.

"Holy men, what is wrong?" asked one of the hunters, respectfully.

"The lion has killed our priestess; the sacred fires must die again!Ai! Ai!"

"Where is the lion?"

"They fled toward the river, and there he has doubtless destroyed her,for in evil, Siva, represented by the lion, is more powerful thanVishnu, reincarnated in our priestess. Ai! Ai! She is dead and weare undone!"

"Come!" said the chief huntsman. "Let us run to the river and see whatthese queer gods are doing. We'll present the skin of Siva to ourmaster!" He laughed.

The leopard carriers deposited their burden and all started off at adog-trot. They had always been eager regarding this lion. In thetemple he was inviolable; but at large, that was a different matter.

Arriving at the river brink, they saw the foot-prints of the lion onthe wet sand which ran down to the water. To leap from this spot tothe water was not possible for any beast of the jungle. Yet the lionhad vanished completely, as though he had been given wings. They stoodabout in awe till one of the older hunters knelt, reached out, and dughis hand into the innocent looking sand. Instantly he leaped to hisfeet and jumped back.

"The sucking sand!" he cried. "To the raft!"

They skirted the dangerous quicksands and dashed along the banks todiscover that their raft was gone. Vishnu, then, as reincarnated,required solid transportation, after the manner of human beings? Theybecame angry. A raft was a raft, substantial, necessary; and there wasno reason why a god who had ten thousand temples for his own shouldstoop to rob a poor man of his wherewithal to travel in safety.

"The mugger!" exclaimed one, "let the high priestess beware of themugger, for he is strong enough to tip over the raft!"

Nearly every village which lies close to a stream has its familycrocodile. He is very sacred and thrives comfortably upon suicides andthe dead, which are often cast into the river to be purified. TheHindus are a suicidal race; the reverse of the occidental conception,suicide is a quick and glorious route to Heaven.

The current of the stream carried Kathlyn along at a fair pace; all shehad to do was to pole away from the numerous sand-bars and suchboulders as lifted their rugged heads above the water.

Round a bend the river widened and grew correspondingly sluggish. Shesounded with her pole. Something hideous beyond words arose—a fat,aged, crafty crocodile. His corrugated snout was thrust quickly overthe edge of the raft. She struck at him wildly with the pole, and in afury he rushed the raft, upsetting Kathlyn.

The crocodile sank and for a moment lost sight of Kathlyn, who wadedfrantically to the bank, up which she scrambled. She turned in time tosee the crocodile's tearful [Transcriber's note: fearful?] eyes staringup at her from the water's edge. He presently slid back into his slimybed; a few yellow bubbles, and he was gone.

Kathlyn's heart became suddenly and unaccountably swollen with rage;she became primordial; she wanted to hurt, maim, kill. Childishly shestooped and picked up heavy stones which she hurled into the water.The instinct to live flamed so strongly in her that the crust ofcivilization fell away like mist before the sun, and for a long timethe pure savage (which lies dormant in us all) ruled her. She wouldlive, live, live; she would live to forget this oriental infernothrough which she was passing.

She ran toward the jungle, all unconscious of the stone she still heldin her hand. She lost all sense of time and compass; and so ran in ahalf circle, coming out at the river again.

The Indian twilight was rising in the east when she found herself againlooking out upon the water, the stone still clutched tightly. Shegazed at the river, then at the stone, and again at the river. Thestone dropped with a thud at her feet. The savage in her had notabated in the least; only her body was terribly worn and wearied andthe robe, muddied and torn, enveloped her like a veil of ice. Aboveher the lonely yellow sky; below her the sickly river; all about hersilence which held a thousand menaces. Which way should she go? Wherecould she possibly find shelter for the night?

The chill roused her finally and she swung her arms to renew thecirculation. Near by she saw a tree, in the crotch of which reposed aplatform, and upon this platform sat a shrine. A few withered flowershung about the gross neck of the idol, and withered flowers layscattered at the base of the tree. There was also a bundle of dryrushes which some devotee had forgotten. At least, yonder platformwould afford safety through the night. So, with the last bit ofstrength at her command, she gathered up the rushes and climbed to theplatform, arranging her bed behind the idol. She covered her shoulderswith the rushes and drew her knees up to her chin. She had forgottenher father, Bruce, the happy days in a far country; she had but asingle thought, to sleep. What the want of sleep could not performexhaustion could; and presently she lay still.

Thus, she neither saw nor heard the pious pilgrims who were on theirway to Allaha to pray in that temple known to offer protection againstwild beasts. Fortunately, they did not observe her.

The pilgrim is always a pilgrim in India; it becomes, one might say, afascinating kind of sport. To most of them, short pilgrimages are astame as rabbits would be to the hunter of lions. They will walk fromBombay to Benares, from Madras to Llassa, begging and bragging all theway. Eventually they become semi-holy, distinguished citizens in aclutter of mud huts.

They deposited some corn and fruit at the foot of the tree anddeparted, leaving Kathlyn in peace. But later, when the moon pouredits white, cold radiance over her face it awakened her, and it took hersome time to realize where she was.

Below, belly deep in the river, stood several water buffaloes, theirsweeping horns glistening like old ivory in the moonshine. Presently aleopard stole down to the brink and lapped the water greedily, fromtime to time throwing a hasty, apprehensive glance over his sleekshoulders. The buffaloes never stirred; where they were it was safe.Across the river a bulky shadow moved into the light, and a fat, brownbear took his tithe of the water. The leopard snarled and slunk off.The bear washed his face, possibly sticky with purloined wild honey,and betook himself back to his lair.

Kathlyn suddenly became aware of the fact that she was a spectator to ascene such as few human beings are permitted to see: truce water, wherethe wild beasts do not kill one another. She grew so interested thatshe forgot her own plight. The tree stood only a few feet from thewater, so she saw everything distinctly.

Later, when his majesty the tiger made his appearance dramatically, thebuffaloes simply moved closer together, presenting a formidablefrontage of horns.

Never had Kathlyn seen such an enormous beast. From his great paddedpaws to his sloping shoulders he stood easily four feet in height, andhis stripes were almost as broad as her hand. He drank, doubtlesseying the buffaloes speculatively; some other time. Then he, too, saton his haunches and washed his face, but with infinite gracefulness.It occurred to the watcher that, familiar as she was with the habits ofwild beasts, never had she witnessed a tiger or a lion enact thisdomestic scene. Either they were always pacing their cages, gazing farover the heads of those who watched them, or they slept. Even whenthey finished a meal of raw meat they merely licked their chops; therewas no toilet.

Here, however, was an elaborate toilet. The great cat licked his paws,drew them across his face; then licked his beautiful sides, purring;for the night was so still and the beast was so near that she could seehim quite plainly. He stretched himself, took another drink, andtrotted off to the jungle.

Then came a herd of elephants, for each species seemed to have anappointed time. The buffaloes emerged and filed away into the dark.The elephants plunged into the water, squealing, making sport,squirting water over their backs, and rolling, head under; and theybuffeted one another amiably, and there was a baby who seemed to get ineverybody's way and the grown-ups treated him shabbily. By and bythey, too, trooped off. Then came wild pigs and furtive antelopes andfoolish, chattering apes.

At last the truce water became deserted and Kathlyn lay down again,only to be surprised by a huge ape who stuck his head up over the edgeof the platform. The surprise was mutual. Kathlyn pushed the idoltoward him. The splash of it in the water scared off the unwelcomeguest, and then Kathlyn lay down and slept.

A day or so later Bruce arrived at the temple. Day after day he hadhung to the trail, picking it up here and losing it there. He foundRajah, the elephant, the howdah gone, and only the ornamental headpiecediscovered to Bruce that he had found his rogue. Rajah was docileenough; he had been domesticated so long that his freedom rather irkedhim.

Bruce elicited from the mourning holy men the amazing adventure in allits details. Kathlyn had disappeared in the jungle and not even thetried hunters could find her. She was lost. Bruce, though in hisheart of hearts he believed her dead, took up the trail again. Butmany weary weeks were to pass ere he learned that she lived.

He shook his fist toward Allaha. "Oh, Durga Ram, one of these finedays you and I shall square accounts!"

* * * * * *

Kathlyn had just completed herself a dress of grass. Three yearsbefore she had learned the trick from the natives in Hawaii. The manydays of hardship had made her thinner, but never had she been so hardy,so clear eyed, so quick and lithe in her actions. She had livedprecariously, stealing her food at dusk from the tents of the ryots;raw vegetables, plantains, mangoes. Sometimes she recited verses inorder that she might break the oppressive silence which alwayssurrounded her.

She kept carefully out of the way of all human beings, so she had lostall hope of succor from the brown people, who had become so hateful toher as the scavengers of the jungle. There was something to admire inthe tiger, the leopard, the wild elephant; but she placed all natives(perhaps wrongly) in a class with the unclean jackals and hyenas.

Tanned deeply by wind and sun, Kathlyn was darker than many a nativewoman. Often she thought of Bruce, but hope of his finding her hadlong since died within her. Every night when she climbed to herplatform she vowed she would start south the next morning; south,toward the land where there were white people; but each morning foundher hesitant.

Behind her tree there was a clearing, then a jumble of thickly growingtrees; beyond those was another clearing, upon which stood a desertedelephant stockade. The grass had grown rank in it for want of use.She was in the act of putting on grass sandals when she saw, to herdismay, the approach of men and elephants. Two elephants were riddenby mahouts. Two other elephants were being jostled toward thestockade, evidently new captives. They proceeded passively, however,for elephants submit to captivity with less real trouble than any otherwild beast. Kathlyn crouched low in the grass and waited till the menand elephants entered the stockade; then she ran quickly toward herhaven, the platform in the tree. She never went very far from this,save in search of food. She had also recovered the idol and set itback in its place. It was not, fortunately, a much frequented spot.It was for the benefit of the occasional pilgrim, the ryots havingshrines more conveniently situated.

She nestled down among her rushes and waited. She could not see thestockade from where she now was, but she could hear shouts from themahouts.

Recently she had discovered a leopard's lair near the stockade and wasvery careful to avoid it, much as she wanted to seize the pretty cubsand run away with them. By this time she knew the habits, fears, andhatreds of these people of the jungle, and she scrupulously attendedher affairs as they attended theirs. Sometimes the great striped tigerprowled about the base of the tree, sharpened his claws on the bark,but he never attempted to ascend to the platform. Perhaps he realizedthe uselessness of investigation, since the platform made it impossiblefor him to see what was up there. But always now, to and from thetruce water, he paused, looked up, circled the tree, and went awaymystified.

Only the grass eating beasts came down to water that night, and Kathlynunderstood by this that the men and the elephants were still in thestockade.

The following morning she went down to the stream to bathe; at the sametime the parent leopards came for drink. They had not cared to seektheir lair during the night on account of the fires; and, worrying overtheir cubs, they were not in the most agreeable mood.

Kathlyn saw their approach in time to reach her platform. They snarledabout the tree, and the male climbed up as far as the platform.Kathlyn reached over with a stout club and clouted the brute on histender nose.

A shot broke the silence and a bullet spat angrily against the treetrunk. Two cats fled. Immediately there came a squealing andtrumpeting from the stockade.

This is what had happened: The chief mahout had discovered the cubs andhad taken them into the stockade just as another hunter had espied theparent leopards. The rifle shot had frightened one of the wildelephants. With a mighty plunge he had broken the chain which held himprisoner to the decoy elephant and pushed through the rotten stockade,heading straight for the river.

Kathlyn saw his bulk as it crashed straight through the brush. Heshuffled directly toward her tree. The ground about was of clay,merging into sand as it sloped toward the river. The frantic runawayslipped, crushed against the tree trunk, recovered himself, and wentsplashing into the water.

Kathlyn was flung headlong and only the water saved her from severebodily harm. When she recovered her senses she was surrounded by agroup of very much astonished Mohammedans.

They jabbered and gesticulated to one another and she was conducted tothe stockade. She understood but two words—"Allaha" and "slave."

CHAPTER VIII

THE SLAVE MART

Having decided upon the fate of Kathlyn, the natives set aboutrecapturing the wild elephant. It took the best part of the morning.When this was accomplished the journey to Allaha was begun. But forthe days of peace and quiet of the wilderness and the consequenthardness of her flesh, Kathlyn would have suffered greatly. Half thetime she was compelled to walk. There was no howdah, and it was adifficult feat to sit back of the mahout. The rough skin of theelephant had the same effect upon the calves of her legs that sandpaperwould have had. Sometimes she stumbled and fell, and was rudely jerkedto her feet. Only the day before they arrived was she relieved in anyway: she was given a litter, and in this manner she entered the hatefulcity.

In giving her the litter the chief mahout had been inspired by noexpressions of pity; simply they desired her to appear fresh andattractive when they carried her into the slave mart.

In fitful dreams all that had happened came back to her—the story herfather had told about saving the old king's life, and the grim,ironical gratitude in making Colonel Hare his heir—as if such thingscould be! And then her own journey to Allaha; the nightmarish durbar,during which she had been crowned; the escape from the ordeals withJohn Bruce; the terrors of the temple of the sun; the flight from there…John Bruce! She could still see the fire in his eyes; she couldstill feel the touch of his gentle yet tireless hand. Would she eversee him again?

On the way to the mart they passed under the shadow of the grim prisonwalls of the palace. The elephants veered off here into a side street,toward the huge square where horses and cattle and elephants werebought and sold. The litter, in charge of the chief mahout, proceededto the slave mart. Kathlyn glanced at the wall, wondering. Was herfather alive? Was he in some bleak cell behind that crumbling masonry?Did he know that she was here? Or was he really dead? Ah, perhaps itwere better that death should have taken him—better that than havinghis living heart wrung by the tale of his daughter's unspeakablemiseries.

Even as she sent a last lingering look at the prison the prisonerwithin, his head buried in his thin wasted hands, beheld her in avision—but in a happy, joyous vision, busying about the living room ofthe bungalow.

And far away a younger man beheld a vision as very tenderly he gazed atKathlyn's discarded robe and resumed his determined quest. Often,standing beside his evening fires, he would ask the silence, "Kathlyn,where are you?" Even then he was riding fast toward Allaha.

A slave mart is a rare thing these days, but at the time these sceneswere being enacted there existed many of them here and there across theface of the globe. Men buy and sell men and women thesetimes—enlightened, so they say—but they do it by legal contract orfrom vile hiding places.

Allaha had been a famous mart in its prime. It had drawn the agents ofprinces from all over India. Persia, Beloochistan, Afghanistan, andeven southern Russia had been rifled of their beauties to adorn thezenanas of the slothful Hindu princes.

The slave mart in the capital town of Allaha stood in the center of thebazaars, a great square platform with a roof, but open on all foursides. Here the slaves were exhibited, the poor things intended fordalliance and those who were to struggle and sweat and die under theoverseer's lash.

Every fortnight a day was set aside for the business of the mart.Owners and prospective buyers met, chewed betel-nut, smoked theirhookas, sipped coffee and tea, and exchanged the tattle of the hour.It was as much an amusem*nt as a business; indeed, it was the orientalidea of a club, and much the same things were discussed. Thus, Appajibought a beautiful girl at the last barter and Roya found a male whowas a good juggler, and only night before last they had traded. Thebazaars were not what they used to be. Dewan Ali had sold his wife toa Punjab opium merchant. Aunut Singh's daughter had run away with theson of a bheestee. All white people ate pig. And no one read theslokas, or moral, stanzas, any more. Yes, the English would come someday, when there would be enough money to warrant it.

All about there were barkers, and fruit sellers, and bangle wallas (forslave girls should have rings of rupee silver about their ankles andwrists), and solemn Brahmins, and men who painted red and ocher castemarks on one's forehead, and ash covered fakirs with withered hands,Nautch girls, girls from the bazaars, peripatetic jewelers, kites, andred-headed vultures—this being a proper place for them.

The chief mahout purchased for Kathlyn a beautiful saree, or veil,which partially concealed her face and hair.

"Chalu!" he said, touching Kathlyn's shoulder, whenever she lagged, forthey had dispensed with the litter, "Go on!"

She understood. Outwardly she appeared passive enough, but her soulwas on fire and her eyes as brilliant as those of the circling,whooping kites, watching that moment which was to offer some loophole.On through the noisy bazaars, the object of many a curious remark,sometimes insulted by the painted women at the windows, sometimesjested at by the idlers around the merchants' booths. Vaguely shewondered if some one of her ancestors had not been terribly wicked andthat she was paying the penalty.

It seemed to her, however, that a film of steel had grown over hernerves; nothing startled her; she sensed only the watchfulness she hadoften noted in the captives at the farm.

At length they came out into the busy mart. The old mahoutcongratulated himself upon the docility of his find. It would stiffenthe bidding to announce that she was gentle. He even went so far as topat her on the shoulder. The steel film did not cover all her nerves,so it would seem; the patted shoulder was vulnerable. She winced, forshe read clearly enough what was in the mind back of that touch.

She had made her plans. To the man who purchased her she would assumea meekness of spirit in order to lull his watchfulness. To the man whopurchased her… Kathlyn Hare! She laughed. The old man behindher nodded approvingly, hearing the sound but not sensing its import.Ah, when the moment came, when the fool who bought her started to leadher home, she would beguile him and at the first sign of carelessnessshe would trust to her heels. She knew that she was going to run asnever a woman ran before; back to the beasts of the jungle, who atleast made no effort to molest her so long as she kept out of their way.

Wild and beautiful she was as the old mahout turned her over to aprofessional seller.

"Circassian!"

"From the north!"

"A bride from the desert!"

"A yellow-hair!"

"A daughter of the north seas!"

The old mahout squatted close by and rubbed his hands. He would be arich man that night; bags of rupees; a well thatched house to cover hisgray hairs till that day they placed him on the pyre at the burningghat. The gods were good.

Durga Ram, known familiarly as Umballa, at this hour came forth intothe sunshine, brooding. He was not in a happy frame of mind. Manythings lay heavy upon his soul; but among these things there was notone named remorse. To have brought about all these failures thisthought irked him most. Here was a crown almost within reach of hisgreedy fingers, the water to Tantalus. To have underestimated thisyellow haired young woman, he who knew women so well—there lay thebitter sting. He had been too impetuous; he should have waited tillall her fears had been allayed. That spawn of Siva, the military, wasinsolent again, and rupees to cross their palms were scarce. Whitherhad she blown? Was she dead? Was she alive?

The white hunter had not returned to his camp yet, but the sly Ahmedwas there. The perpetual gloom on the face of the latter wasreassuring to Umballa. Ahmed's master had not found her. To wring thewhite man's heart was something. He dared not put him out of the way;too many knew.

And the council was beginning to grow uneasy. How long could he holdthem in leash?

What a woman! As magnificent as the daughter of Firoz, shah of Delhi.Fear she knew not. At one moment he loved her with his whole soul, atanother he hated her, longed to get her into his hands again, to wreakhis vengeance upon her for the humiliation she had by wit and courageheaped upon him. "I am ready!" He could hear it yet. When they hadled her away to the ordeals—"I am ready!" A woman, and not afraid todie!

Money! How to get it! He could not plunge his hand into the treasury;there were too many about, too many tongues. But Colonel Hare knewwhere the silver basket lay hidden, heaped with gold and preciousstones; and torture could not wring the hiding-place from him. May hebe damned to the nethermost hell! Let him, Durga Ram, but bury hislean hands in that treasure, and Daraka swallow Allaha and all itskings! Rubies and pearls and emeralds, and a far country to idle in,to be feted in, to be fawned upon for his riches!

And Ramabai and his wife, Pundita, let them beware; let them remainwisely in their house and meddle not with affairs of state.

"A thousand rupees!"

Umballa looked up with a start. Unconsciously he had wandered into theslave mart. He shrugged and would have passed on but for the strange,unusual figure standing on the platform. A golden haired woman withneck and arms like Chinese bronze and dressed in a skirt of grass! Hepaused.

"Two thousand rupees!"

"What!" jeered the professional seller. "For an houri from paradise?O ye of weak hearts, what is this I hear? Two thousand rupees?—for anhouri fit to dwell in the zenana of heaven!"

A keen-eyed Mohammedan edged closer to the platform. He stared andsucked in his breath. He found himself pulled two ways. He had nomoney, but he had knowledge.

"Who sells this maiden?" he asked.

"Mohammed Ghori."

"Which is he?"

"He squats there."

The Mohammedan stopped and touched the old mahout on the shoulder.

"Call off this sale, and my master will make you rich."

The old sinner gingerly felt of the speaker's cotton garb. "Ah! 'Mymaster' must be rich to dress thee in cotton. Where is your gold?Bid," satirically.

"Two thousand rupees!" shouted the professional seller.

"I have no gold, but my master will give 10,000 rupees for yonder maid.Quick! Old fool, be quick!"

"Begone, thou beggar!"

And the old man spat.

"Mem-sahib," the Mohammedan called out in English, "do not look towardme, or all will be lost. I am Ali, Bruce Sahib's chief mahout; and wehave believed you dead! Take care! I go to inform Ahmed. Bruce Sahibhas not returned."

Kathlyn, when she heard that voice, shut her eyes.

Umballa had drawn closer. There was something about this half veiledslave that stirred his recollection. Where had he seen that gracefulpoise? The clearness of the skin, though dark; the roundness of thethroat and arms.…

"Three thousand rupees!"

The old mahout purred and smoothed his palms together. Three thousandrupees, a rajah's ransom! He would own his elephant; his wife shouldride in a gilded palanquin, and his children should wear shoes. Threethousand rupees! He folded his arms and walked gently to and fro.

"Five thousand rupees!" said Umballa, impelled by he knew not what tomake this bid.

A ripple of surprise ran over the crowd. The regent, the powerfulDurga Ram, was bidding in person for his zenana.

Kathlyn's nerves tingled with life again, and the sudden bounding ofher heart stifled her. Umballa! She was surely lost. Sooner or laterhe would recognize her.

The mahout stood up, delighted. He was indeed fortunate. He salaamed.

"Huzoor, she is gentle," he said.

The high-caste who had bid 3,000 rupees salaamed also.

"Highness, she is yours," he said. "I can not bid against my regent."

It was the custom to mark a purchased slave with the caste of herpurchaser. Umballa, still not recognizing her, waved her aside towardthe Brahmin caste markers, one of whom daubed her forehead with ayellow triangle. Her blue eyes pierced the curious brown ones.

"The sahib at the river," she whispered in broken Hindustani. "Manyrupees. Bring him to the house of Durga Ram." This in case Ali failed.

The Brahmin's eyes twinkled. Her Hindustani was execrable, but "sahib"and "river" were plain to his understanding. There was but one sahibby the river, and he was the white hunter who had rescued the vanishedqueen from the ordeals. He nodded almost imperceptibly. Inwardly hesmiled. He was not above giving the haughty upstart a Thuggee's twist.He spoke to his neighbor quietly, assigned to him his bowls andbrushes, rose, and made off.

"Follow me," said Umballa to the happy mahout. Presently he would havehis bags of silver, bright and twinkling.

Fate overtook Ali, who in his mad race to Hare's camp fell and badlysprained his ankle. Moaning, less from the pain than from theattendant helplessness, he was carried into the hut of a kindly ryotand there ministered to.

The Brahmin, however, filled with greed and a sly humor, reached hisdestination in safety. Naturally cunning, double tongued, sly,ingratiating, after the manner of all Brahmins, who will sink to anybase level in order to attain their equivocal ends his actions wereunhampered by any sense of treachery toward Umballa. A Thuggee's twistto the schemes of the street rat Umballa, who wore the Brahmin string,to which he had no right! The Brahmin chuckled as he paused at theedge of Bruce's camp. A fat purse lay yonder. He approached, hisoutward demeanor a mixture of pride and humility.

Bruce had returned but half an hour before, mind weary, bone tired. Hesat with his head in his hands, his elbows propped upon his knees. Hisyoung heart was heavy. He had searched the bewildering jungle as onemight search a plot of grass before one's door, blade by blade. Ahundred times he had found traces of her; a hundred times he had calledout her name, only to be mocked and gibbered at by apes. She hadvanished like a perfume, like a cloud shadow in the wind.

His soul was bitter; for he had built many dreams, and always this fairhaired girl had ridden upon them. So straight she stood, so calm inthe eyes, mannered with that gentleness, known of the brave.…Gone, and skilled as he was in jungle lore, he could not find her.

"Sahib, a Brahmin desires audience."

"Ask him what he wants."

"It is for the sahib's ear alone."

"Ah! Bring him to me quickly."

The Brahmin approached, salaamed.

"What do you wish?" Bruce asked curtly.

"A thousand rupees, Huzoor!" blandly.

"And what have you that is worth that many rupees?" irritably.

The Brahmin salaamed again. "Huzoor, a slave this day was purchased byDurga Ram, Umballa, so-called. She has skin the color of old tusks,and eyes like turquoise, and lips like the flame of the jungle, andhair like the sands of Ganges, mother of rivers."

Bruce was upon his feet, alive, eager. He caught the Brahmin by thearm.

"Is this woman white?" harshly.

"Huzoor, the women of Allaha are always dark of hair."

"And was sold as a slave?"

"To Durga Ram, the king without a crown, Huzoor. It is worth athousand rupees," smiling.

"Tell me," said Bruce, stilling the tremor in his voice, "tell me, didshe follow him without a struggle?"

"Yes. But would a struggle have done any good?"

Bruce took out his wallet and counted out a thousand rupees in Bank ofIndia notes. "Now, listen. Umballa must not know that I know. Onyour head, remember."

"Huzzor, the word of a Brahmin."

"Ah, yes; but I have lived long here. Where is Ali?" cried Bruce,turning to one of his men.

"He went into the city this morning, Sahib, and has not returned."

"Come," said Bruce to the waiting Brahmin, "We'll return together." Henow felt no excitement at all; it was as if he had been immersed in icewater. It was Kathlyn, not the least doubt of it, bought and sold inthe slave mart. Misery, degradation… then he smiled. He knewKathlyn Hare. If he did not come to her aid quickly she would be dead.

Now, when Umballa took her into his house, Kathlyn was determined toreveal her identity. She had passed through the ordeals; she was, inlaw, a queen, with life and death in her hands.

"Do not touch me!" she cried slowly in English.

Umballa stepped back.

"I am Kathlyn Hare, and if all the world is not made up of lies andwickedness, I am the queen you yourself made. I can speak a few words,enough to make myself known to the populace. I will make a bargainwith you. I will give you five times five thousand rupees if you willdeliver me safely in Peshawer. On my part, I promise to say nothing,nothing."

Umballa raised both his hands in astonishment. He knew now why thatform had stirred his recollection.

"You!" He laughed and clapped his hands to summon his servants.Kathlyn, realizing that it was useless to attempt to move this man,turned and started to run, but he intercepted her. "My queen, my bridethat was to be, the golden houri! Five times five thousand rupeeswould not purchase a hair of your head."

"I am your queen!" But she said it without heart.

"What! Do you believe that? Having passed the ordeals you nullifiedthe effect by running away. You will be whatever I choose! Oh, itwill be legally done. You shall go with me to the council, and thefour of us shall decide. Ah, you would not be my wife!"

"You shall die, Durga Ram," she replied, "and it will be the death of apariah dog."

"Ah! Still that spirit which I loved. Why, did I not buy you withoutknowing who you were? Are you not mine? At this very moment I couldplace you in my zenana and who would ever know? And soon you would notwant any one to know."

"Are you without mercy?"

"Mercy? I know not the word. But I have an ambition which surpassesall other things. My wife you shall be, or worse. But legally, alwayslegally!" He laughed again and swiftly caught her in his arms. Shestruggled like a tigress, but without avail. He covered her face andneck with kisses, then thrust her aside. "Poor little fool! If youhad whined and whimpered I should have let you go long since. Butthere burns within you a spirit I must conquer, and conquer I will!"

Kathlyn stood panting against a pillar. Had she held a weapon in herhand she would have killed him without compunction, as one crushes apoisonous viper.

"Legally! Why, all the crimes in Hind are done under that word. It isthe shibboleth of the British Raj. Legally! Come!"

"I will not stir!"

"Then be carried," he replied, beckoning his servants.

"No, no!"

"Ah! Well, then, we'll ride together in the palanquin."

To struggle would reward her with nothing but shame and humiliation; soshe bent her head to the inevitable. A passionate longing to berevenged upon this man began to consume her. She wanted the feel ofhis brown throat in her fingers; wanted to beat him down to his knees,to twist and crush him. But she was a woman and she had not thestrength of a man.

"Behold!" cried Umballa later, as he entered the presence of thecouncil, "behold a slave of mine!" He pushed Kathlyn forward. "Thisday I bought her for five thousand rupees."

The council stirred nervously.

"Do you not recognize her?" exultantly.

The council whispered to one another.

"Legally she is mine, though she has been a queen. But by running awayshe has forfeited her rights to the law of the ordeals. Am I notright?"

The council nodded gravely. They had not yet wholly recovered fromtheir bewilderment.

"On the other hand, her identity must remain a secret till I havedeveloped my plans," continued Umballa.

"You are all courting a terrible reprisal," said Kathlyn. "I beg ofyou to kill me at once; do not prolong my torture, my misery. I haveharmed none of you, but you have grievously harmed me. One even nowseeks aid of the British Raj; and there are many soldiers."

The threat was ill timed.

The head of the council said to Umballa: "It would be wise to lock herup for the present. We all face a great complication."

"A very wise counsel," agreed Umballa, knowing that he had but to saythe word to destroy them all. "And she shall have company. I wouldnot have her lonely. Come, majesty; deign to follow your humbleservant." Umballa salaamed.

Kathlyn was led to a cell in the palace prison, whose walls she had buta little while ago viewed in passing, and thrust inside. A singlewindow admitted a faint light. Umballa remained by the door, chucklingsoftly. Presently, her eyes becoming accustomed to the dark, Kathlyndiscovered a man chained to a pillar. The man suddenly leaned forward.

"Kit, my Kit!"

"Father!"

She caught him to her breast in her strong young arms, crooned to him,and kissed his matted head. And they stood that way for a long time.

At this very moment there appeared before the council a wild eyed,disheveled young man. How he had passed the palace guard none of themknew.

"A white woman was brought into this room forcibly a few minutes ago.I demand her! And by the God of my father I will cut out the heart ofevery one of you if you deny me! She is white; she is of my race!"

"There is no white woman here, Bruce Sahib."

"You lie!" thundered the young man.

Two guards came in quickly.

"I say you lie! She was seen to enter here!"

"This man is mad! Besides, it is sacrilege for him to enter ourpresence in this manner," cried one of the council. "Seize him!"

A fierce struggle between the guards and Bruce followed; but his raceto the city and the attendant excitement had weakened him. He wascarried away, still fighting manfully.

In the meantime Umballa concluded that the reunion had lasted longenough. He caught Kathlyn roughly by the shoulder and pulled her away.

"Behold, Colonel Sahib! Mine! I bought her this day in the slavemart. Legally mine! Now will you tell me where that silver basketlies hidden, with its gold and game?"

"Father, do not tell him!" warned Kathlyn. "So long as we do not tellhim he does not put us out of the way!"

"Kit!"

"Dad, poor dad!"

"Little fool!" said Umballa.

Kathlyn struggled to reach her father again, but could not. Umballafolded his arms tightly about her and attempted to kiss her. This timeher strength was superhuman. She freed her hands and beat him in theface, tore his garments, dragged off his turban. The struggle broughtthem within the radius of the colonel's reach. The prisoner caught hisenemy by the throat, laughing insanely.

"Now, you black dog, die!"

CHAPTER IX

THE COLONEL IN CHAINS

The colonel and Umballa swayed back and forth. Umballa sank to hisknees and then fought madly to rise but the hands at his throat werethe hands of a madman, steel, resistless. The colonel's chains clinkedsharply. Lower and lower went Umballa's head; he saw death peeringinto the cell. His cry rattled in his throat.

Not a sound from Kathlyn. She watched the battle, unfeeling as marble.Let the wretch die; let him feel the fear of death; let him suffer ashe had made others suffer. What new complications might followUmballa's death did not alarm her. How could she be any worse off thanshe was? He had polluted her cheeks with his kisses. He had torturedand shamed her as few white women have been. Mercy? He had said thatday that he knew not the word.

"Ah, you dog! Haven't I prayed God for days for this chance? Youblack caha! Die!"

But Umballa was not to die at that moment or in that fashion.

That nervous energy which had infused the colonel with the strength ofa lion went out like a spark, and as quickly. Umballa rolled from hisparalyzed fingers and lay on the floor, gasping and sobbing. Hare fellback against the pillar, groaning. The cessation of dynamic nerveforce filled him with racking pains and a pitiable weakness. But forthe pillar he would have hung by his chains.

Kathlyn, with continued apathy, stared down at her enemy. He was notdead. He would kill them both now. Why, she asked with suddenpassion, why this misery? What had she done in her young life to meritit? Under-fed, dressed in grass, harassed by men and wild beasts—why?

Umballa edged out of danger and sat up, feeling tenderly of his throat.Next he picked up his turban and crawled to the open door. He pulledhimself up and stood there, weakly. But there was venom enough in hiseyes. The tableau lasted a minute or two; then slowly he closed thedoor, bolted it, and departed.

This ominous silence awoke the old terror in Kathlyn's heart far morethan oral threats would have done. There would be reprisal, somethingfinished in cruelty.

"My dear, my dear!" She ran over to her father and flung her armsabout him, supporting him and mothering him. An hour passed.

"All in, Kit, all in; haven't the strength of a cat. Ah, great God; ifthat strength had but lasted a moment longer. Well, he's still alive.But, O, my Kit, my golden Kit, to see you here is to be tortured likethe damned. And it is all my fault, all mine!" The man who had oncebeen so strong sobbed hysterically.

"Hush, hush!"

"There were rare and wonderful jewels of which I alone knew the hidingplace. But God knows that it was not greed; I wanted them for you andWinnie… I knew you were here. Trust that black devil to announcethe fact to me… God! what I haven't suffered in the way ofsuspense! Kit, Kit, what has he done to you?"

Briefly she recounted her adventures, and when she had done he bowedhis head upon her bare shoulder and wept as only strong men, made weak,weep.

To Kathlyn it was terrible. "Father, don't, don't! You hurt me! Ican't stand it!"

After a while he said: "What shall we do, Kit; what shall we do?"

"I will marry him, father," she answered quietly. "We can take ourrevenge afterward."

"What!"

"If it will save you."

"Child, let me rot here. What! Would you trust him, knowing his falseheart as you do? The moment you married him would be my death warrant.No, no! If you weaken now I shall curse you, curse you, my Kit! Therehas been horror enough. I can die."

"Well, and so can I, father."

Silence. After a co*ckatoo shrilled; a laugh came faintly through thewindow, and later the tinkle of music. Up above the world was going onthe same as usual. Trains were hurrying to and fro; the great shipswere going down the sapphire seas; children were at play, and the worldwide marts were busying with the daily affairs of men.

"Jewels!" she murmured, gazing at the sky beyond the grilled window.Was there ever a precious stone that lay not in the shadow of blood andmisery? Poor, poor, foolish father! As if jewels were in beauty atithe of the misery they begot!

"Ay, Kit, jewels; sapphires and rubies and emeralds, diamonds andpearls and moonstones. And I wanted them for my pretty cubs! Umballaknew that I would return for them and laid his plans. But were theynot mine?"

"Yes, if you intended to rule these people; no, if you thought to takethem away. Do you not know that to Winnie and me a hair of your headis more precious than the Koh-i-noor? We must put our heads togetherand plan some way to get out."

She dropped her arms from his shoulders and walked about the cell,searching every stone. Their only hope lay in the window, and thatappeared impossible since she had no means of filing through herfather's chains and the bars of the window. She returned and sat downbeside her father and rested her aching head on her knees, thinking,thinking.

Bruce, struggling with the soldiers (and long since their fat flesh hadbeen stung into such activity!) saw Umballa appear in the corridor.

"Durga Ram," he cried, with a furious effort to free his arms. "DurgaRam, you damnable scoundrel, it would be wise for you to kill me, hereand now, for if I ever get free. God help you! O, I shan't kill you;that would be too merciful. But I'll break your bones, one by one, andnever more shall you stand and walk. Do you hear me? Where is KathlynHare? She is mine!"

Umballa showed his teeth in what was an attempt to smile. He still sawflashes of fire before his eyes, and it was yet difficult to breathenaturally. Still, he could twist this white man's heart, play with him.

"Take him away. Put him outside the city gates and let him go."

Bruce was greatly astonished at this sign of clemency.

"But," added Umballa, crossing his lips with his tongue, "place himagainst a wall and shoot him if he is caught within the city. He ismad, and therefore I am lenient. There is no white woman in the palaceor in the royal zenana. Off with him!"

"You lie, Durga Ram! You found her in the slave mart to-day."

Umballa shrugged and waved his hand. He could have had Bruce shot atonce, but it pleased him to dangle death before the eyes of his rival.He was no fool; he saw the trend of affairs. This young white manloved Kathlyn Hare. All the better, in view of what was to come.

Bruce was conducted to the gate and rudely pushed outside. He turnedsavagely, but a dozen black officers convinced him that this time hewould meet death. Ah, where was Ali, and Ahmed, and the man Lal Singh,who was to notify the English? He found Ali at camp, the chief mahouthaving been conducted there in an improvised litter. He recounted hisexperiences.

"I was helpless, Sahib."

"No more than I am, Ali. But be of good cheer; Umballa and I shallmeet soon, man to man."

"Allah is Allah; there is no God but God."

"And sometimes," said Bruce, moodily, "he watches over the innocent."

"Ahmed is at Hare Sahib's camp."

"Thanks, Ali; that's the best news I have heard yet. Ahmed will find away. Take care of yourself. I'm off!"

When Umballa appeared before the council their astonishment knew nobounds. The clay tinted skin, the shaking hands, the disheveledgarments—what had happened to this schemer whom ill luck had madetheir master?

He explained. "I went too near our prisoner. A flash of strength wasenough. They shall be flogged."

"But the woman!"

"Woman? She is a tiger-cat, and tiger-cats must sometimes be flogged.It is my will. Now I have news for you. There is another sister,younger and weaker. Our queen," and he salaamed ironically, "our queendid not know that her father lived, and there I made my first mistake."

"But she will now submit to save him!"

"Ah, would indeed that were the case. But tiger-cats are alwaystiger-cats, and nothing will bend this maid; she must be broken,broken. It is my will," with a flash of fire in his eyes.

The council salaamed. Umballa's will must of necessity be theirs, hatehim darkly as they might.

The bungalow of Colonel Hare was something on the order of an armedcamp. Native animal keepers, armed with rifles, patrolled themenagerie. No one was to pass the cordon without explaining frank hisbusiness, whence he came, and whither he was bound.

By the knees of one of the sentries a little native child was playing.From time to time the happy father would stoop and pat her head.

Presently there was a stir about camp. An elephant shuffled into theclearing. He was halted, made to kneel, and Ahmed stepped out of thehowdah.

The little girl ran up to Ahmed joyfully and begged to be put into thehowdah. Smiling, Ahmed set her in the howdah, and the mahout bade theelephant to rise, but, interested in some orders by Ahmed, left thebeast to his own devices. The child called and the elephant walked offquietly. So long as he remained within range of vision no one paid anyattention to him. Finally he passed under a tree near the cages andreached up for some leaves. The child caught hold of a limb andgleefully crawled out upon it some distance beyond the elephant'sreach. Once there, she became frightened, not daring to crawl back.

She prattled "elephant talk," but the old fellow could not reach her.The baboon in the near-by cage set up a chattering. The child orderedthe elephant to rise on his hind legs. He placed his fore legs on theroof of the baboon's cage, which caved in, rather disturbing theelephant's calm. He sank to the ground.

The baboon leaped through the opening and made off to test thisunexpected liberty. He was friendly and tame, but freedom was justthen paramount.

The elephant remained under the trees, as if pondering, while the childbegan to cry loudly. One of the natives saw her predicament andhastened away for assistance.

Achmed was greatly alarmed over the loss of the baboon. It was a camppet of Colonel Hare's and ran free in camp whenever the colonel wasthere. He had captured it when a mere baby in British East Africa.The troglodyte, with a strange reasoning yet untranslatable, loved thecolonel devotedly and followed him about like a dog and with a scentfar keener. So Ahmed and some of the keepers set off in search of thecolonel's pet.

He went about the search with only half a heart. Only a little whilebefore he had received the news of what had happened in the slave martthat afternoon. It seemed incredible. To have her fall into Umballa'shands thus easily, when he and Bruce Sahib had searched the jungle farand wide! Well, she was alive; praise Allah for that; and where therewas life there was hope.

Later Kathlyn was standing under the cell window gazing at the yellowsunset. Two hours had gone, and no sign of Umballa yet. Sheshuddered. Had she been alone she would have hunted for somethingsharp and deadly. But her father; not before him. She must wait. Onething was positive and absolute: Umballa should never embrace her; shewas too strong and desperate.

"Kit!"

"Yes, father."

"I have a sharp piece of metal in my pocket. Could you… My God,by my hand!— when he comes?"

"Yes, father; I am not afraid to die, and death seems all that remains.I should bless you. He will be a tiger now."

"My child, God was good to give me a daughter like you."

She turned to him this time and pressed him to her heart.

"It grows dark suddenly," he said.

Kathlyn glanced toward the window.

"Why, it's a baboon!" she exclaimed.

"Jock, Jock!" cried her father excitedly.

The baboon chattered.

"Kit, it's Jock I used to tell you about. He is tame and follows meabout like a dog. Jock, poor Jock!"

"Father, have you a pencil?"

"A pencil?" blankly.

"Yes, yes! I can write a note and attach it to Jock. It's a chance."

"Good lord! and you're cool enough to think like that." The colonelwent through his pockets feverishly. "Thank God, here's an old stub!But paper?"

Kathlyn tore off a broad blade of grass from her dress and wrotecarefully upon it. If it fell into the hands of the natives they wouldnot understand, If the baboon returned to camp… It made her weakto realize how slender the chance was. She took the tabouret andplaced it beneath the window and stood upon it.

"Jock, here, Jock!"

The baboon gave her his paws. Deftly she tied the blade of grass roundhis neck. Then she struck her hands together violently. The baboonvanished, frightened at this unexpected treatment.

"He is gone."

The colonel did not reply, but began to examine his chains minutely.

"Kit, there's no getting me out of here without files. If there is anyrescue you go and return. Promise."

"I promise."

Then they sat down to wait.

And Ahmed in his search came to the river. Some natives were swimmingand sporting in the water. Ahmed put a question. Oh, yes, they hadseen the strange-looking ape (for baboons did not habitate this part ofthe world); he had gone up one of the trees near by. Colonel Hare hadalways used a peculiar whistle to bring Jock, and Ahmed resorted tothis device. Half an hour's perseverance rewarded him; and then hefound the blade of grass.

"Dungeon window by tree. Kathlyn."

That was sufficient for Ahmed. He turned the baboon over to the careof one of his subordinates and hurried away to Bruce's camp, only tofind that he had gone to the colonel's. Away went Ahmed again,tireless. He found Bruce pacing the bungalow frontage.

"Ahmed."

"Yes, Sahib. Listen." He told his tale quickly.

"The guards at all the gates have orders to shoot me if they catch mewithin the walls of the city. I must disguise myself in some way."

"I'll find you an Arab burnoose, hooded, Sahib, and that will hide you.It will be dark by the time we reach the city, and we'll enter by oneof the other gates. That will allay suspicion. First we must seek thehouse of Ramabai. I need money for bribery."

Bruce searched his wallet. It was empty. He had given all he had tothe Brahmin.

"You lead, Ahmed. I'm dazed."

In the city few knew anything about Ahmed, not even the keenest ofUmballa's spies. Umballa had his suspicions, but as yet he could provenothing. To the populace he was a harmless animal trainer who was onlytoo glad not in any way to be implicated with his master. So they lethim alone. Day by day he waited for the report from Lal Singh, but sofar he had heard nothing except that the British Raj was very busykilling the followers of the Mahdi in the Soudan. It was a subtleinference that for the present all aliens in Allaha must look out forthemselves.

"Sahib," he whispered, "I have learned something. Day after day I havebeen waiting, hoping. Colonel Sahib lives, but where I know not."

"Lives!"

"Ai! In yonder prison where later we go. He lives. That is enoughfor his servant. He is my father and my mother, and I would die forhim and his. Ah! Here is the north gate. Bend your head, Sahib, whenwe pass."

They entered the city without mishap. No one questioned them. Indeed,they were but two in a dozen who passed in at the same time. Theythreaded the narrow streets quickly, skirting the glow of many dungfires for fear that Bruce's leggings might be revealed under hisburnoose.

When at length they came to the house of Ramabai they did not seek toenter the front, but chose the gate in the rear of the garden. Themoon was up and the garden was almost as light as day.

"Ramabai!" called Bruce in a whisper.

The dreaming man seated at a table came out of his dream with a start.A servant ran to the gate.

"Who calls?" demanded Ramabai, suspicious, as all conspirators ever are.

"It is I, Bruce," was the reply in English, flinging aside his burnoose.

"Bruce Sahib? Open!" cried Ramabai. "What do you here? Have youfound her?"

Ramabai's wife, Pundita, came from the house. She recognized Bruceimmediately.

"The Mem-sahib! Have you found her?"

"Just a moment. Kathlyn Mem-sahib is in one of the palace dungeons.She must be liberated to-night. We need money to bribe what sentriesare about." Bruce went on to relate the incident of the baboon. "Thisproves that the note was written not more than three hours ago. Shewill probably be held there till morning. This time we'll place herfar beyond the reach of Umballa."

"Either my money or my life. In a month from now…"

"What?" asked Ahmed.

"Ah, I must not tell." Pundita stole close to Ramabai.

Ahmed smiled.

"We have elephants but a little way outside the city. We have pullingchains. Let us be off at once. It is not necessary to enter the city,for this window, Ahmed says, is on the outside. We can easily approachthe wall in a roundabout way without being seen. Have you money?"

From his belt Ramabai produced some gold.

"That will be sufficient. To you, then, the bribing. The men, shouldthere be any, will hark to you. Come!" concluded Bruce, impatient tobe off.

"And I?" timidly asked Pundita.

"You will seek Hare Sahib's camp," said Ramabai. "This is a goodopportunity to get you away also."

Ahmed nodded approvingly.

Pundita kissed her husband; for these two loved each other, acirc*mstance almost unknown in this dark mysterious land of many gods.

"Pundita, you will remain at the camp in readiness to receive us. Atdawn we shall leave for the frontier. And when we return it will bewith might and reprisal. Umballa shall die the death of a dog."Ramabai clenched his hands.

"But first," cooed Ahmed, "he shall wear out the soles of his pig'sfeet in the treadmill. It is written. I am a Mohammedan. Yetsometimes these vile fakirs have the gift of seeing into the future.And me has seen…" He paused.

"Seen what?" demanded Bruce.

"I must not put false hopes in your hearts. But this I may say: Trialswill come, bitter and heart burning: a storm, a whirlwind, a fire; butpeace is after that. But Allah uses us as his tools. Let us haste!"

"And I?" said Ramabai, sending a piercing glance at Ahmed.

But Ahmed smiled and shook his head. "Wait and see, Ramabai. Some daythey will call you the Fortunate. Let us hurry. My Mem-sahib waits."

"What did this fakir see?" whispered Bruce as he donned his burnooseagain.

"Many wonderful things; but perhaps the fakir lied. They all lie.Yet… hurry!"

The quartet passed out of the city unmolested. Ramabai's house wassupposed to be under strict surveillance; but the soldiers, due tolargess, were junketing in the bazaars. Shortly they came up to twoelephants with howdahs. They were the best mannered of the half dozenowned or rented by Colonel Hare. Mahouts sat astride. Rifles reposedin the side sheaths. This was to be no light adventure. There mightbe a small warfare.

Pundita flung her arms around Ramabai, and he consoled her. She wasthen led away to the colonel's camp.

"Remember," Ramabai said at parting, "she saved both our lives. We owea debt."

"Go, my Lord; and may all the gods—no, the Christian God—watch overyou!"

"Forward!" growled Ahmed. First, though, he saw to it that the pullingchains were well wrapped in cotton blankets. There must be no sound towarn others of their approach.

"Ahmed," began Bruce.

"Leave all things to me, Sahib," interrupted Ahmed, who assumed astrange authority at times that confused and puzzled Bruce. "It is myMem-sahib, and I am one of the fingers of the long arm of the BritishRaj. And there are books in Calcutta in which my name is written high.No more!"

Through the moon-frosted jungle the two elephants moved silently. Adrove of wild pigs scampered across the path, and the wild peaco*ckhissed from the underbrush sleepily. All silence again. Several timesAhmed halted, straining his ears. It seemed incredible to Bruce thatthe enormous beasts could move so soundlessly. It was a part of theirbusiness; they were hunters of their kind.

At length they came out into the open at the rear of the prison walls.Here Ramabai got down, and went in search of any sentries. He returnedalmost at once with the good news that there was none.

The marble walls shimmered like clusters of dull opals. What miseryhad been known behind their crumbling beauty!

Ahmed marked the tree and raised his hand as a sign.

"Bruce Sahib!" he called.

"Yes, Ahmed. I'll risk it first."

Bruce moved the elephant to the barred window. His heart beat wildly.He leaned down from his howdah and strove to peer within.

"Kathlyn Hare?" he whispered.

"Who is it?"

"Bruce."

"Father, father!" Bruce heard her cry; "they have found us!"

Ahmed heard the call; and he sighed as one who had Allah to thank. Godwas great and Mahomet was His prophet.

"Listen," said Bruce. "We shall hook chains to the bars and pull themout, without noise if possible. The moment they give… have youanything to stand on?"

"Yes, a tabouret."

"That will serve. You stand on it, and I'll pull you up and through.Then your father."

"Father is in chains."

"Ahmed, he is in chains. What in God's name shall we do?"

"Return for me later," said Hare. "Don't bother about me. Get Kitaway, and quickly. Umballa may return at any moment. To work, towork, Bruce, and God bless you!"

They flew to the task. Round the hooks Ahmed had wrapped cloths toward against the clink of metal against metal. The hooks were deftlyengaged. The chains grew taut. So far there was but little noise.The elephants leaned against the chains; the bars bent and sprangsuddenly from their ancient sockets.

Kathlyn was free.

CHAPTER X

WAITING

Kathlyn flung herself into her father's arms.

"Dad, dad! To leave you alone!"

"Kit, you are wasting time. Be off. Trust me; I wasn't meant to diein this dog's kennel, curse or no curse. Kiss me and go!"

"Curse? What do you mean, father?"

"Ahmed will tell you. In God's name go, child!"

"Come, Miss Kathlyn," Bruce called anxiously.

Kathlyn then climbed up to the window, and Bruce lifted her into hishowdah, bidding her to lie low. How strong he was, she thought. Ah,something had whispered to her day by day that he would come when sheneeded him. Suddenly she felt her cheeks grow hot with shame. Shesnuggled her bare legs under her grass dress. Till this moment she hadnever given her appearance a single thought. There had been things somuch more vital. But youth, and there is ever the way of a man with amaid.

Now, Kathlyn did not love this quiet, resourceful young man, at leastif she did she was not yet aware of it; but the touch of his hand andthe sound of his voice sent a shiver over her that was not due to thechill of the night. She heard him give his orders, low voiced.

"Do not lift your head above the howdah rim, Miss Kathlyn, till we arein the jungle. And don't worry about your father. He's alive, andthat's enough for Ahmed and me. What a strange world it is, and howfate shuffles us about! Forward!"

The curse: what did her father mean by that? It seemed to Kathlyn thathours passed before Bruce spoke again.

"Now you may sit up. What in the world have you got on? Good heavens,grass! You poor girl!" He took off his coat and threw it across hershoulders, and was startled by the contact of her warm flesh.

"I can not thank you in words," she said faintly.

"Don't. Pshaw, it was nothing. I would have gone——" He stoppedembarrassedly.

"Well?" Perhaps it was coquetry which impelled the query; perhaps itwas something deeper.

He laughed. "I was going to say that I would have gone into the depthsof hell to serve you. We'll be at your father's bungalow in a minuteor so, and then the final stroke. Umballa is not dependable. He mayor may not pay a visit to the cell to-night. I can only pray that hewill come down the moment I arrive."

But he was not to meet Umballa that night. Umballa had won his pointin regard to having his prisoners flogged; but, Oriental that he was,he went about the matter leisurely. He ate his supper, changed hisclothes and dallied in the zenana for an hour. The rascal had made athorough study of the word "suspense"; he knew the exquisite torture ofmaking one's victim wait. For the time being his passion for Kathlynhad subsided. He desired above all things just then revenge for thehumiliating experience in the ceil; he wanted to put pain and terrorinto her heart. Ah, she would be on her knees, begging, begging, andher father would struggle in vain at his shackles. Spurned; so be it.She should have a taste of his hate, the black man's hate. Two shouldhold her by the arms while the professional flogger seared the whitesoft back of her. She would soon come to him begging. He had been tookind. The lash of the zenana, it should bite into her soft flesh. Hewould break her spirit and her body together and fling her into his ownzenana to let her gnaw her heart out in suspense. She should be theleast of his women, the drudge.

First, however, the lash should bite the father till he dropped in hischains; thus she would be able to anticipate the pain and degradation.

And always there would remain the little dark-haired sister. She wouldmarry him; she would do it to save her father and sister. Then thefiligree basket heaped with rubies and pearls and emeralds andsapphires! As for the other, what cared he if he rotted? It gave himthe whip hand over the doddering council. Master he would be; he wouldblot out all things which stood in his path. A king, till he hadgathered what fortune he needed. Then let the jackals howl.

Accompanied by torch bearers, servants and the professional flogger, heled the way to the cell and flung open the door triumphantly. For amoment he could not believe his eyes. She was gone, and through yonderwindow! Hell of all hells of Hind! She was gone, and he was robbed!

"Out of your reach this time, you black devil!" cried the colonel. "Goon. Do what you please to me, I'm ready."

Umballa ran to the tabouret and jumped upon it. He saw the trampledgrass. Elephants. And these doubtless had come from the colonel'scamp. He jumped off the tabouret and dashed to the door.

"Follow me!" he cried. "Later, Colonel Hare, later!" he threatened.

The colonel remained silent.

Up above, in the palace, Umballa summoned a dozen troopers and gavethem explicit orders. He was quite confident that Kathlyn would becarried at once to her father's bungalow, if only for a change ofclothes. It was a shrewd guess.

As the iron door clanged upon the sill Colonel Hare leaned against thepillar and closed his eyes, praying silently.

At the bungalow Pundita fell at Kathlyn's feet and kissed them.

"Mem-sahib!" she cried brokenly.

"Pundita!" Kathlyn stooped and gathered her up in her arms.

After that Ramabai would have died for her under any torture.

"Now, Ahmed, what did my father mean when he said 'curse or no curse'?"

"It's a long story, Mem-sahib," said Ahmed evasively.

"Tell it."

"It was in a temple in the south. The Colonel Sahib took a sapphirefrom an idol's eye. The guru, a very wise and ancient priest, demandedthe return of it. The Colonel Sahib, being a young man, refused. Theguru cursed him. That is all."

"No, Ahmed; there must be more. Did not the guru curse my father'schildren and their children's children?"

"Ah, Mem-sahib, what does the curse of a Hindu amount to?"

"Perhaps it is stronger than we know," glancing down at her dress.

Further discussion was interrupted by one of the armed keepers, whocame rushing up with the news that armed soldiers were approaching.Bruce swore frankly. This Umballa was supernaturally keen. What to donow?

"Quick!" cried Ahmed. "Get the howdahs off the elephants." It wasdone. "Hobble them." It was immediately accomplished. "Into thebungalow, all of you. Mem-sahib, follow me!"

"What are you going to do?" asked Bruce.

"Hide her where none will dare to look," answered Ahmed.

He seized Kathlyn by the hand and urged her to run. She had implicitfaith in this old friend, who had once dandled her on his knees. Theydisappeared behind the bungalow and ran toward the animal cages. Hestopped abruptly before one of the cages.

"A leopard, but harmless. You'll know how to soothe him if he becomesnervous. Enter."

Kathlyn obeyed.

This cage was not a movable one, and had a cavity underneath. Theheavy teak flooring was not nailed.

The soldiers arrived at the bungalow, boisterously threatening thearrest of the entire camp if Durga Ram's slave was not producedforthwith.

"You are mistaken," said Bruce. "There is no slave here. Search."

"You stand in extreme danger, Sahib. You have meddled with what doesnot concern you," replied the captain, who had thrown his fortunes withUmballa, sensing that here was a man who was bound to win and would beliberal to those who stood by him during the struggle.

"Search," repeated Bruce.

The captain and his men ran about, but not without a certain system ofthoroughness. They examined the elephants, but were baffled there,owing to Ahmed's foresight. They entered the native quarters, lookedunder the canvases into the empty cages, from cellar to roof in thebungalow, when suddenly the captain missed Ahmed.

"Where is the Colonel Sahib's man?" he asked bruskly.

"Possibly he is going the rounds of the animal cages," said Bruce,outwardly calm and shaking within.

"And thou, Ramabai, beware!"

"Of what, Captain?" coolly.

"Thou, too, hast meddled; and meddlers burn their fingers."

"I am innocent of any crime," said Ramabai. "I am watched, I know; butthere is still some justice in Allaha."

"Bully for you!" said Bruce in English.

The captain eyed him malevolently.

"Search the animal cages," he ordered.

Bruce, Ramabai and Pundita followed the captain. He peered into thecages, one by one, and at length came to the leopard's cage. And therewas the crafty Ahmed, calmly stroking the leopard, which snarledsuddenly. Ahmed stood up with a fine imitation of surprise. Thecaptain, greatly mystified, turned about; he was partially convincedthat he had had his work for nothing. Still, he had his tongue.

"Thou, Ramabai, hast broken thy parole. Thou wert not to leave thyhouse. It shall be reported." Then he took a shot at Bruce: "And thouwilt enter the city on the pain of death."

With this he ordered the soldiers right about and proceeded the way hehad come.

"Ahmed, where is she?" cried Bruce, who was as mystified as the captain.

Smiling, Ahmed raised one of the broad teak boards, and the golden headof Kathlyn appeared.

"Ahmed," said Bruce, delighted, "hereafter you shall be chief of thisexpedition. Now, what next?"

"Secure files and return for my master."

"Wait," interposed Kathlyn, emerging. "I have a plan. It will beuseless to return to-night. He will be too well guarded. Are youbrave, Pundita?"

"I would die for the Mem-sahib."

"And I, too," added Ramabai.

Ahmed and Bruce gazed at each other.

"What is your plan, Mem-sahib?" asked Ahmed, replacing the board andhelping Kathlyn out of the cage, the door of which he closed quickly,as the leopard was evincing a temper at all this nocturnal disturbance.

"It is a trap for Umballa."

"He is as wise as the cobra and as suspicious as the jackal," saidAhmed doubtfully.

"Reason forbids that we return to-night. Umballa will wait, knowingme. Listen. Pundita, you shall return to the city. Two men willaccompany you to the gate. You will enter alone in the early morning."

Pundita drew close to her husband.

"You will seek Umballa and play traitor. You will pretend to betrayme."

"No, no, Mem-sahib!"

"Listen. You will demand to see him alone. You will say that you arejealous of me. You will tell him that you are ready to lead him to myhiding-place."

"No, Miss Kathlyn; that will not do at all," declared Bruceemphatically.

To this Ahmed agreed with a slow shake of the head.

"Let me finish," said Kathlyn. "You will tell him, Pundita, that hemust come alone. He will promise, but by some sign or other he willsignify to his men to follow. Well, the guard may follow. OnceUmballa steps inside the bungalow we will seize and bind him. His lifewill depend upon his writing a note to the council to liberate myfather. If he refuses, the leopard."

"The leopard?"

"Yes; why not? A leopard was the basic cause of all this misery andtreachery. Let us give Umballa a taste of it. Am I cruel? Well, yes;all that was gentle and tender in me seems either to have vanished orhardened. He has put terror into my heart; let me put it into his."

"It is all impractical," demurred Bruce.

"He will never follow Pundita," said Ahmed.

"Then shall we all sit down and wait?" Kathlyn asked bitterly. "Atleast let me try. He will not harm Pundita, since it is I he wants."

"She is right," averred Pundita. "A woman can do more at this momentthan a hundred men. I will go, Mem-sahib; and, more, I will bring himback."

"But if he should hold you as a hostage?" suggested the harried Ahmed."What then?"

"What will be will be," answered Pundita with oriental philosophy.

"You shall go, Pundita," said Ramabai; "and Durga Ram shall chokebetween these two hands if he harms a hair of your head."

"And now to bed," said Ahmed.

Well for Kathlyn that she had not the gift of clairvoyance. At theprecise moment she put her head upon the pillow her father was writhingunder the lash; but never a sound came from his lips. Kit was free.Kit was free!

"To-morrow and to-morrow's to-morrow you shall feel the lash," criedUmballa when he saw that his victim could stand no more. "Once more,where is the filigree basket?"

Feebly the colonel shook his head.

"To-morrow, then! Up till now you have known only neglect. Now youshall feel the active hatred of the man you robbed and cheated. Ah,rubies and pearls and emeralds; you will never see them."

"Nor shall you!"

"Wait and see. There's another way of twisting the secret from you.Wait; have patience." Umballa laughed.

And this laughter rang in the colonel's ears long after the door hadclosed. What new deviltry had he in mind?

The next morning Kathlyn came into the living-room dressed, for thefirst time in weeks. She felt strangely uncomfortable. For so long atime her body had been free that the old familiar garments ofcivilization (are they civilized?) almost suffocated her.

"You are not afraid, Pundita?"

"No, Mem-sahib. Ahmed will have me carried to within a few yards ofthe gate, and after that it will be easy to find Durga Ram. Ah,Mem-sahib, if you but knew how I hate him!"

After Pundita had departed Ahmed brought in the leopard. Kathlynpetted it and crooned, and the magic timbre of her tones won over thespotted cat. He purred.

And now they must wait. An hour flew past. Kathlyn showed signs ofrestlessness, and this restlessness conveyed itself to the leopard, whobegan to switch his tail about.

"Mem-sahib, you are losing your influence over the cat," warned Ahmed."Go walk; go talk elephant; and you, Bruce Sahib, go with her. I'lltake care of the cat."

So Bruce and Kathlyn went the rounds of the cages. She was a veritableenigma to Bruce. Tigers lost their tenseness and looked straight intoher eyes. A cheetah with cubs permitted her to touch the wabblyinfants, whereas the keeper of this cage dared not go within a foot ofit. By the time she reached the elephants a dozen keepers werefollowing her, their eyes wide with awe. They had heard often of theMem-sahib who calmed the wild ones, but they had not believed. Withthe elephants she did about as she pleased.

"Miss Kathlyn, I am growing a bit afraid of you," said Bruce.

"And why?"

"I've never seen animals act like that before. What is it you do tothem?"

"Let them know that I am not afraid of them and that I am fond of them."

"I am not afraid of them and am also fond of them. Yet they spit at mewhenever I approach."

"Perhaps it is black art." The shadow of a smile crossed her lips.Then the smile stiffened and she breathed deeply. For the moment shehad forgot her father, who stood chained to a pillar in a vile cell.She put her hand over her eyes and swayed.

"What is it?" he cried in alarm.

"Nothing. I had almost forgot where I am."

"I, too. I am beginning to let Ahmed think for me. Let us get back tothe bungalow."

He loved her. And he feared her, too. She was so unlike any youngwoman he had ever met that she confused his established ideas of thesex. The cool blood of her disturbed him as much as anything. Not asign of that natural hysteria of woman, though she had been throughenough to drive insane a dozen ordinary women. He loved the fearlesseye of her, the flat back, the deep chest, the spring with which shemeasured her strides. Here at last was the true normal woman. She wasof the breed which produced heroes.

He loved her, and yet was afraid of her. A wall seemed to surroundher, and nowhere could he discover any breach. Vaguely he wondered howthe Viking made love to the Viking's daughter. By storm, or by guile?Yes, he was afraid of her; afraid of her because she could walk alone.He locked up his thoughts in his heart; for instinct advised him to saynothing now; this was no time for the declaration of love.

"It is best," said Ahmed, "that we all remain inside the bungalow.Ramabai, have you any plan in case Pundita does not return?"

Ramabai's breast swelled. "Yes, Ahmed. I have a thousand friends inyonder city, ready at my call. Only, this is not the time. Still, Ican call to them, and by to-morrow there will not be a stone of thepalace upon another. Be not alarmed. Pundita will return, but mayhapalone."

So they waited.

Now, Pundita, being a woman, was wise in the matter of lure. Sheentered the city unquestioned. She came to the palace steps just asUmballa was issuing forth. She shivered a little—she could not helpit; the man looked so gloomy and foreboding. The scowl warned her towalk with extreme care.

He stopped when he saw her and was surprised into according her thesalute one gave to a woman of quality.

"Ah!"

"Durga Ram," she began, "I am seeking you." Her voice trembled ever solittle.

"Indeed! And why do you seek me, who am your enemy, and who alwayswill be?"

"A woman loves where she must, not where she wills."

Umballa seemed to ponder over this truth.

"And why have you sought me?"

"A woman's reasons. My husband and the Mem-sahib——"

"You know, then, where she is?" quickly.

"Aye, Durga Ram; I alone know where she is hiding."

He sent a shrewd glance into her eyes. Had she wavered, ill would havebefallen her.

"Tell me."

"Follow."

He laughed. Near by stood two of the palace guards. "All women areliars. Why should I trust you?"

"That is true. Why indeed should you trust me?" She turned and withbowed head started to walk away.

"Wait!" he called to her, at the same time motioning to the guards tofollow at a distance.

"If I lead you to the Mem-sahib, it must be alone."

"You say that you alone know where she is?"

"I meant that I alone will lead you to her. And you must decidequickly, Durga Ram, for even now they are preparing for night, and thistime they will go far."

"Lead on."

"Send the guards back to the palace."

Umballa made a sign with his hand, but another with his eyes. Theguards fell back to the palace steps, understanding perfectly that theyand others were to follow unseen. Umballa knew instinctively that thiswas a trap. He would apparently walk into it unsuspectingly; but thosewho sprung the trap would find no rat, but a tiger. And after themanner of hungry tigers, he licked his chops. A trap; a child couldhave discerned it. But having faith in his star he followed Pundita.Only once during the journey did he speak.

"Pundita, remember, if you have lied you will be punished."

"Durga Ram, I have not lied. I have promised to lead you to her, andlead you to her I shall."

"Durga Ram," he mused. She did not give him his title of prince;indeed, she never had. She was really the rightful heir to this crown;but her forbears had legally foresworn. Ah! the Colonel Sahib's camp.Good! He knew now that in Kathlyn's escape he had the man Ahmed toreckon with. Presently.

"She is there, Durga Ram."

"And what more?" ironically.

His coolness caused her some uneasiness. Had he, by means unknown toher, signed to the guards to follow?

Umballa entered the living-room of the bungalow. It was apparentlydeserted. He cast a quick glance about. The curtains trembledsuspiciously, and even as he noted it, Bruce, Ramabai and Ahmed sprangforth, carrying ropes. Umballa made a dash for the door, but they weretoo quick for him. Struggling, he was seized and bound; but all thewhile he was laughing inwardly. Did they dream of trapping him in thischildish fashion? By now twenty or thirty of his paid men were drawinga cordon about the camp. All of them should pay the full penalty forthis act. What mattered a few ropes? He was rather puzzled as to thereason of their leaving his right arm free.

Next, the curtains were thrown back, and Kathlyn stood revealed. Nearher a leopard strained impatiently on the leash. Umballa eyed herwonderingly. She was like the woman who had arrived weeks ago. Andyet to him she seemed less beautiful than when he paid five thousandrupees for her in the slave mart. He waited.

"Umballa, write an order for my father's release."

"And if I refuse?" Umballa wanted to gain time.

"You shall be liberated at the same time as this leopard. You have hadexperience with leopards. Do you not recall the one my father killed,saving the life of your benefactor?"

"I will free him in exchange for yourself."

"Write."

She offered the pen to him.

He shrugged and made no effort to take it.

"Very well," said Kathlyn. "Leave us." Once alone she said: "Can yourun as fast as this cat?" She approached and began at the knots of theropes.

He saw by the thin determined line of her lips that she meant to doexactly as she threatened. He concluded then to sign the paper. Hismen would arrive before a messenger could reach the city.

"I will sign," he said. "For the present you have the best of me. Butwhat of the afterwards?"

"We are going to hold you as hostage, Umballa. When my father arriveswe intend to escort you to the frontier and there leave you."

"Give me the pen." His men were drawing nearer and nearer. He signedthe order of release. He knew that even if it reached the council itwould not serve, lacking an essential.

Kathlyn joyfully caught up the order and called to her friends.Ramabai smiled and shook his head. It was not enough, he said. Hetook the jeweled triangle from Umballa's turban.

"Go, Ramabai," said Kathlyn, strangely tender all at once; "go bring myfather back to me. Rest assured that if aught happens to you, Umballashall pay."

"With his head," supplemented Bruce. "Look not so eagerly toward thewest, Umballa. Your troopers will remain at the edge of the clearing.They have been informed that a single misstep on their part and theirmaster dies."

Umballa sat up stiffly in the chair. They had beaten him by a point.The heat of his rage swept over him like fire, and he closed his eyes.

Ramabai passed the guards, giving them additional warning to remainexactly where they were. The captain shrugged; it was all in a day'swork, women were always leading or driving men into hell.

When Ramabai appeared before the council he did so proudly. Hesalaamed as etiquette required, however, and extended the written orderfor Colonel Hare's release. At first they refused to regard it asauthentic. Ramabai produced the jeweled triangle.

"The prince has made this order imperative," he said. "Colonel Harewill proceed in my custody."

"Where is Durga Ram?"

"At the bungalow of Colonel Hare, where he found the daughter."

Ah, that cleared up everything. Umballa had some definite plan inreleasing Colonel Hare. It would confuse the public, who had beengiven to understand that the hunter was dead; but they would claim thatit was an affair of state, in nowise concerning the populace. SoColonel Hare was brought up. Ramabai instantly signaled him to smotherhis joy. But it was not necessary for the colonel to pretenddejection. He was so pitiably weak that he could scarcely stand andonly vaguely understood that he was to follow this man Ramabai, whom hedid not recognize.

Ramabai, comprehending his plight, gave him the support of his arm, andtogether they left the palace. So far all had gone smoothly.

The council had no suspicions. Twenty men had followed Durga Ram andwithout doubt they were at this moment with him.

"Free!" breathed the colonel, as Ramabai beckoned to a public litter.

"Hush! You are supposed to be my prisoner. Make no sign ofjubilation." Ramabai helped the broken man into the litter and badethe coolies to hurry. "Elephants will be ready to start the moment wereach your camp. This time I believe we can get away in safety."

"And Umballa?"

"Shall go with us as hostage."

But Umballa did not go with them as hostage. On the contrary, themoment they left him alone he quickly undid his bonds. He tiptoed pastthe leopard which flew at him savagely, ripping the post from itssocket and wrecking the banisters. Umballa, unprepared for thisstroke, leaped through the window, followed by the hampered leopard.It would have gone ill with Umballa even then had not some keepersrushed for the leopard. In the ensuing confusion Umballa escaped.

"He is gone!" cried Bruce. "Ahmed, send a runner to warn Ramabai tohead for my camp! Quick! Get the elephants ready! Come, Kathlyn;come, Pundita!" He hastened them toward the elephants. "Umballa madehis escape east; it will take him some minutes to veer round to hismen. Come!"

They waited at Bruce's camp an hour. A litter was seen swaying to andfro, with coolies on the run. Ahmed ran forward and hailed it. Amoment later Kathlyn and her father were reunited.

"In God's name, Bruce, let us get out of this damnable country; I amdying for want of light, air, food!"

They lifted the colonel into a howdah and started south, urging theelephants at top speed. No sooner had they left the river than somenative boats landed at the broken camp, gleefully picking up thingswhich had been left behind in the rush.

"Our troubles are over, father."

"Perhaps! So long as I remain in India, there is that curse. Ah, Ionce laughed at it; but not now."

Umballa at length found his captain.

"Follow me'" he cried in a fury.

He led them back to the colonel's camp, but those he sought had flown.He reasoned quickly. The trail led toward the camp of Bruce Sahib, andalong this he led his men, arriving in time to find the native boatmenleaving for their boats.

A hurried question or two elicited the direction taken by thefugitives. Umballa commandeered the boats. There was some protest,but Umballa threatened death to those who opposed him, and thefrightened natives surrendered. The soldiers piled into the boats andbegan poling down-stream rapidly. A mile or two below there was a fordand to go south the pursued must cross it.

Later, pursuer and pursued met, and a real warfare began, with a deathtoll on both sides. Bruce and Ahmed kept the elephants going, but inthe middle of the ford a bullet struck Kathlyn, and she tumbledheadlong into the water.

The curse had not yet lifted its evil hand.

CHAPTER XI

THE WHITE ELEPHANT

It was the shock of the bullet rather than the seriousness of the woundthat had toppled Kathlyn into the river. In the confusion, the rattleof musketry, the yelling of the panic-stricken pack coolies who hadfled helter-skelter for the jungle, the squealing of the elephants, shehad forgot to crouch low in the howdah. There had come a staggeringblow, after which sky and earth careened for a moment and became black;then the chill of water and strangulation, and she found herselfstruggling in the deepest part of the ford, a strange deadness in onearm. She had no distinct recollection of what took place; her onethought was to keep her head above water.

Instantly the firing ceased; on one side because there were no morecartridges, on the other for fear of hitting the one person who hadmade this pursuit necessary.

Kathlyn struggled between the elephant which carried Ramabai andPundita and the boat or barge which held the eager Umballa and hissoldiers. The mahout, terrorized, had slid off and taken to his heelsingloriously. Thus, Ramabai could do nothing to aid Kathlyn. Norcould the elephant ridden by the colonel and Bruce be managed.

Umballa was quick to see his advantage, and, laughing, he urged his mentoward the helpless girl. The colonel raised his rifle and aimed atUmballa, but there was no report, only a click which to the franticman's ears sounded like the gates of hell closing in behind him.

"Forward!" shouted Umballa.

She was his again; he would have the pleasure of taking her from underthe very eyes of her father and lover. His star never faltered.

Bruce stood up in the howdah, ready to dive; but the colonel restrainedhim.

"Don't waste your life! My God, we can't help her! Not a bullet ineither gun. God's curse on all these worthless stones men callguns!— There, he's got her! Not a shell left! Kit! Kit!" Thecolonel broke down and cried like a child. As for Bruce, hot ironscould not have wrung a tear from his eyes; but Kit, in the hands ofthat black devil again!

"Colonel," said Bruce, "I'd going to get some cartridges."

He realized then that Kathlyn's future depended upon him alone. Thecolonel was a broken man. So he struck the elephant, who lumberedashore. The moment Kathlyn was safe in the barge Umballa wouldprobably give orders to resume firing. He could do so now withimpunity.

The soldiers drew Kathlyn into the barge. Umballa saw that she waswounded in the fleshy part of the arm. Quickly he snatched off theturban of one of the soldiers, unwound it and began to bandageKathlyn's arm.

The man, for all his oriental craftiness, was still guileless enough toexpect some sign of gratitude from her; but; as he touched her sheshrank in loathing. His anger flamed and he flung her roughly into aseat.

"Suffer, then, little fool!"

Meantime the colonel and Bruce dismounted and tried to stem the tide offleeing coolies; but it was no more effective than blowing against thewind. They found, however, an abandoned pack containing cartridgecases, and they filled their pockets, calling to Ramabai and Pundita tofollow them along the river in pursuit of Umballa's barge, which wasnow being rapidly poled up-stream. They might be able to pick offenough soldiers, sharpshooting, to make it impossible to man the barge.They were both dead shots, and the least they could do would be to putthe fight on a basis of equality so far as numbers were concerned.

The colonel forgot all about how weak he was. The rage and despair inhis heart had once more given him a fictitious strength.

"The curse, the curse, always the curse!"

"Don't you believe that, Colonel. It is only misfortune. Now I'mgoing to pot Umballa. That will simplify everything. Without a headthe soldiers will be without a cause, and they'll desert Kathlyn asquickly as our coolies deserted us."

"Where is Ahmed?"

"Ahmed? I had forgot all about him! But we can't wait now. He'llhave to look out for himself. Hark!"

Squealing and trumpeting and thunderous crashing in the distance.

"Wild elephants!" cried the colonel, the old impulse wheeling himround. But the younger man caught hold of his arm significantly.

The soldiers poled diligently, but against the stream, together withthe clumsiness of the barge, they could not make headway with anydegree of speed. It was not long before Bruce could see them. Heraised his rifle and let go; and in the boat Umballa felt his turbanstir mysteriously. The report which instantly followed was enough toconvince him that he in particular was being made a target. Hecrouched behind Kathlyn, while two or three of the soldiers returnedthe shot, aiming at the clump of scrub from which a film of pale bluesmoke issued. They waited for another shot, but none came.

The reason was this: the herd of wild elephants which Bruce and thecolonel had heard came charging almost directly toward them, smashingyoung trees and trampling the tough underbrush. Some of them made forthe water directly in line with the passing boats. Kathlyn, keenlyalive to the fact that here was a chance, jumped overboard beforeUmballa could reach out a staying hand.

To Kathlyn there was only death in the path of the elephants; to remainon the barge was to face eventually that which was worse than death.Her arm throbbed painfully, but in the desperate energy with which shedetermined to take the chance she used it. Quite contrary to herexpectations, her leap was the best thing she could have done. Most ofthe barges were upset and the great beasts were blundering across theriver between her and the barges.

Bruce witnessed Kathlyn's brave attempt and dashed into the water afterher. It took him but a moment to bring her to land, where her fatherclasped her in his arms and broke down again.

"Dad, dad!" she whispered. "Don't you see our God is powerfulest? Ibelieved I was going to be trampled to death, and here I am, with youonce more."

They hurried back as fast as Kathlyn's weakness would permit to wherethey had left their own elephants, doubting that they should find them,considering that it was quite probable that they had joined their wildbrethren. But no; they were standing shoulder to shoulder, flappingtheir ears and curling their trunks. So many years had they beentrained to hunt elephants that they did not seem to know what to dowithout some one to guide them.

Bruce ordered one of them to kneel, doubtfully; but the big fellowobeyed the command docilely, and the colonel and Bruce helped theexhausted girl into the howdah. The colonel followed, while Bruce tookupon his own shoulders the duties of mahout. Pundita got into theother howdah and Ramabai imitated Bruce. The elephants shuffled off,away from the river. For the time being neither Bruce nor Ramabai gavemind to the compass. To make pursuit impossible was the main businessjust then.

Later Umballa, dulled and stupefied from his immersion, stood on theshore, with but nine of the twenty soldiers he had brought with him.Evidently, his star had faltered. Very well; he would send for theother sister. She was the Colonel Sahib's daughter, and young; shewould be as wax in his hands. A passion remained in Umballa's heart,but it was now the passion of revenge.

When he had recovered sufficiently he gave orders to one of thesoldiers to return to the city, to bring back at once servants,elephants and all that would be required for a long pursuit. Themessenger was also to make known these preparations to the council, whowould undertake to forward the cable submitted to them. All thesethings off his mind, Umballa sat down and shivered outwardly, while heboiled within. He was implacable; he would blot out his enemy, kithand kin. Colonel Hare should never dip his fingers into the filigreebasket—never while he, Durga Ram, lived.

Quite unknown, quite unsuspected by him, for all the activity of hisspies, a volcano was beginning to grumble under his feet. All tyrants,the petty and the great, have heard it: the muttering of the oppressed.

Perhaps the fugitives had gone thirty miles when suddenly the jungleended abruptly and a desert opened up before them. Beyond stood apurple line of rugged hills. Ramabai raised his hand, and theelephants came to a halt.

"I believe I know where I am," said Ramabai. "Somewhere between us andyonder hills is a walled city, belonging to Bala Khan, a Pathan whosometimes styles himself as a rajah. He has a body of fierce fightingmen; and he lives unmolested for two reasons: looting would not beworth while and his position is isolated and almost impregnable. Now,if I am right, we shall find shelter there, for he was an old friend ofmy father's and I might call him a friend of mine, since I sell sheepfor him occasionally."

"Bala Khan?" mused Bruce, reminiscently. "Isn't he the chap who has asacred white elephant?"

"It is the same," answered Ramabai. "We can reach there beforesundown. It would be wise to hasten, however, as this desert and thosehills are infested with lawless nomadic bands of masterlessmen—brigands, you call them. They would cut the throat of a man forthe sake of his clothes."

"Let us go on," said the colonel. "I don't care where. I am dead forwant of food and sleep."

"And I, too," confessed Kathlyn; "My arm pains me badly."

"My poor Kit!" murmured her father gloomily. "And all this because Itold you half a truth, because in play I tried to make a mystery out ofa few plain facts. I should have told you everything, warned youagainst following in case I failed to turn up."

"I should have followed you just the same."

"Shall I rebind the arm?" asked Bruce, turning.

"No, thanks." She smiled down at him. "This bandage will serve till wereach Bala Khan's."

"By the way, Colonel, is there a pair of binoculars in the howdah?"

"Yes. Do you want them?"

"No. Just to be sure they were there. We may have occasion to usethem later, in case this place Ramabai is taking us to should turn outhostile. I like to know what is going on ahead of me."

"Poor Kit!" reiterated the colonel.

"Never mind, dad; you meant it all for the best; and you must not letour present misfortunes convince you that that yogi or guru cast aspell of evil over you. That is all nonsense."

"My child, this is the Orient, Asia. Things happen here that areoutside the pale of logic. Bruce, am I not right?"

"I have seen many unbelievable things here in India," replied Brucereluctantly. "Think of yesterday and to-day, Miss Kathlyn."

"Yes; but the curse of a priest who believes in different gods, whokotows before a painted idol! I just simply can't believe anything sofoolish. Dad, put the thought out of your mind for my sake. So longas we have the will to try we'll see California again before manyweeks."

"Do you feel like that?" curiously.

"In my soul, dad, in my soul." She stared dreamily toward theempurpling hills. "I can't explain, but that's the way I feel. Someday we shall be free again, reenter the life we have known and all thiswill resolve itself into an idle dream. Ahmed has said it."

"No, he is alive somewhere back there."

Bruce turned to look at her again, but Kathlyn was still gazing at thehills without seeing them.

"A white elephant," mused the colonel. "Do you know it for a fact thatthis Bala Khan has a white elephant?" he called across to Ramabai.

"I have never seen it Sahib. It is what they say."

"A pair of mottled ears is the nearest I ever came to seeing a whiteelephant, and I've hunted them for thirty years, here, in Ceylon, inBurma, in Africa. There was once a tiger near Madras that hadn't anystripes. The natives would not permit him to be killed because theyheld that, being unique, he was sacred. A sacred white elephant! Poorsimple-minded fools!" The colonel felt in his pockets, then droppedhis hands dispiritedly. How long since he had tasted tobacco? "Bruce,have you got a cheroot in your pocket? I think a smoke would brace meup."

Bruce laughed and passed up a broken cigar, which the colonel lightedcarefully. The weariness seemed to go out of his face magically.

"This Bala Khan should be Mohammedan," said Bruce. "The Pathandespises the Hindu."

"There are Hindus in yonder city; quite as many," said Ramabai, "asthere are Mohammedans. Even the Pathan expects that which he can notunderstand."

"Isn't that the wall behind that sand-hill? Let me have the glasses amoment. Colonel.… H'm! The walled city, all right. Some peoplemoving about outside. Dancers, I should say."

"Professional," explained Ramabai.

"Nothing religious, then? By George!"

"What is it?" asked the colonel.

"Take a look. There's an elephant being led into the city gates."

The colonel peered eagerly through the glasses.

"The sun is shining on him.… No! he is… white! A whiteelephant! I'd give ten thousand this minute to own it. There, it'sentered the gate. Well, well, well! And I've lived to see it! Poorold Barnum, to have carried around a tinted pachyderm! He's white asany elephant flesh could be. Those dancing chaps are going in, too.What caste would those dancers be, Ramabai?"

"Pariahs, quite possibly; probably brigands."

The rim of the sun was sinking rapidly as Bruce drew his elephant to ahalt before the gate of the white walled city. The guard ran out,barring the way.

"I am Ramabai, a friend of Bala Khan. I am come to pay him a visit.Direct me to his house or his palace."

The authority in Ramabai's voice was sufficient for the guard, who gavethe necessary directions. The party continued on into town. It was anodd place for a walled city. There wasn't a tree about, not a sign ofboscage, except some miles away where the hills began to slope upward.Bruce wondered what the inhabitants fed upon. It was more like anEgyptian village than anything he had ever seen in India. Bruce askedfor his rifle, which he laid carelessly in the crook of his arm. Onenever could tell.

Presently they came upon a group in the center of which were thedancers at their vocations. They ceased their mad whirlings at thesight of the two elephants. There were nine of these men, fierce ofeye and built muscularly. No effeminate Hindus here, mused Bruce, whodid not like the looks of them at all. The surrounding natives staredwith variant emotions. Many of them had never seen a white man before.Their gaze centered upon the colonel. Kathlyn was almost as dark asPundita, and as for Bruce, only his European dress distinguished himfrom Ramabai, for there was scarcely a shade difference in color. Butthe colonel, having been weeks in prison, was as pale as alabaster andhis hair shone like threads of silver.

On through the narrow streets, sometimes the sides of the elephantsscraping against the mud and plaster of the buildings, and one couldeasily look into the second stories. No one seemed hostile; only anatural curiosity was evinced by those standing in doorways or leaningout of windows.

The house of Bala Khan was not exactly a palace, but it was ofrespectable size. A high wall surrounded the compound. There was agateway, open at this moment. A servant ran out and loudly demandedwhat was wanted.

"Say to your master, Bala Khan, that Ramabai, son of Maaho Singh, hisold friend, awaits with friendly greetings."

"Kit," whispered Kathlyn's father, "this chap Ramabai wouldn't make abad king. And look!" excitedly. "There's the sacred elephant, and ifhe isn't white, I'll eat my hat!"

Kathlyn sighed gratefully. That her father could be interested inanything was a good sign for the future. A few days' rest andwholesome food would put him half-way on his legs. Her own vitalitywas an inheritance from her father. The male line of the family waswell known for its recuperative powers.

The servant ran back into the compound and spoke to a dignified man,who proved to be a high caste Brahmin, having in his charge the care ofthe white elephant. He disappeared and returned soon with the Khan.The pleasant face, though proudly molded, together with the simplicityof his appearance, conveyed to Kathlyn the fact that here was a man tobe trusted, at least for the present. He greeted Ramabai cordially,struck his hands and ordered out the servants to take charge of whatluggage there was and to lead away the elephants to be fed and watered.

Courteously he asked Kathlyn how she had become injured and Ramabaiacted as interpreter. He then ushered them into his house, spread rugsand cushions for them to sit upon and mildly inquired what had broughtthe son of his old friend so far.

Colonel Hare spoke several dialects fluently and briefly told (betweensips of tea and bites of cakes which had been set out for the guests)his experiences in Allaha.

"The rulers of Allaha," observed Bala Khan, "have always been half mad."

Ramabai nodded in agreement.

"You should never have gone back," went on Bala Khan, lighting acigarette and eying Kathlyn with wonder and interest. "Ah, that DurgaRam whom they call Umballa! I have heard of him, but fortunately forhim our paths have not crossed in any way." He blew a cloud of smokeabove his head. "Well, he has shown wisdom in avoiding me. In frontof me, a desert; behind me, verdant hills and many sheep and cattle,well guarded. I am too far away for them to bother. Sometimes thedesert thieves cause a flurry, but that is nothing. It keeps thetulwar from growing rusty," patting the great knife at his side.

Bala Khan was muscular; his lean hands denoted work; his clear eyes,the sun and the wind. He was in height and building something afterthe pattern of the colonel.

"And to force a crown on me!" said the colonel.

"You could have given it to this Umballa."

"That I would not do."

"In each case you showed forethought. The Durga Ram, when he had youwhere he wanted you——" Bala Khan drew a finger suggestively acrosshis throat. "Ramabai, son of my friend, I will have many sheep for youthis autumn. What is it to me whether you Hindus eat beef or not?" Helaughed.

"I am not a Hindu in that sense," returned Ramabai. "I have but oneGod."

"And Mahomet is His prophet," said the host piously.

"Perhaps. I am a Christian."

Bruce stirred uneasily, but his alarm was without foundation.

"A Christian," mused Bala Khan. "Ah, well; have no fear of me. Thereis no Mahdi in these hills. There is but one road to Paradise andargument does not help us on the way."

Lowly and quickly Pundita translated for Kathlyn so that she might missnone of the conversation.

"The Colonel Sahib looks worn."

"I am."

"Now, in my travels I have been to Bombay, and there I dressed like youwhite people. I have the complete. Perhaps the Colonel Sahib would bepleased to see if he can wear it? And also the use of my barber?"

"Bala Khan," cried the colonel, "you are a prince indeed! It willtonic me like medicine. Thanks, thanks!"

"It is well."

"You have a wonderful elephant out there in the compound," said Bruce,who had remained a silent listener to all that had gone before.

"Ah! That is a curiosity. He is worshiped by Hindus and reverenced bymy own people. I am his official custodian. There is a saying amongthe people that ill will befall me should I lose, sell, or permit himto be stolen."

"And many have offered to buy?" inquired the colonel.

"Many."

When the colonel appeared at supper, simple but substantial, he was anew man. He stood up straight, though his back still smarted from thelash. Kathlyn was delighted at the change.

After the meal was over and coffee was drunk, the Khan conducted hisguests to his armory, of which he was very proud. Guns of alldescriptions lined the walls. Some of them Bruce would have liked toown, to decorate the walls of his own armory, thousands of miles away.

The colonel whispered a forgotten prayer as, later, he laid down hisweary aching limbs upon the rope bed. Almost immediately he sank intoslumber as deep and silent as the sea.

Kathlyn and Bruce, however, went up to the hanging gardens and remainedthere till nine, marveling over the beauty of the night. The Pathancity lay under their gaze with a likeness to one of those magic citiesone reads about in the chronicles of Sindbad the Sailor. But theyspoke no word of love. When alone with this remarkable young woman,Bruce found himself invariably tongue-tied.

At the same hour, less than fifty miles away, Umballa stood before theopening of his elaborate tent, erected at sundown by the river's brink,and scowled at the moon. He saw no beauty in the translucent sky, inthe silvery paleness of the world below. He wanted revenge, and theword hissed in his brain as a viper hisses in the dark of its cave.

Dung fires twinkled and soldiers lounged about them, smoking andgossiping. They had been given an earnest against their longdelinquent wages; and they were in a happy frame of mind. Their deadcomrades were dead and mourning was for widows; but for them would bethe pleasures of swift reprisals. The fugitives had gone toward thedesert, and in that bleak stretch of treeless land it would not bedifficult to find them, once they started in pursuit.

Midnight.

In the compound the moonlight lay upon everything; upon the fat sidesand back of the sacred white elephant, upon the three low castekeepers, now free of the vigilant eye of their Brahmin chief. Thegates were barred and closed; all inside the house of Bala Khan wereasleep. Far away a sentry dozed on his rifle, on the wall. The threekeepers whispered and chuckled among themselves.

"Who will know?" said one.

"The moon will not speak," said another.

"Then, let us go and smoke."

The three approached the elephant. A bit of gymnastics and one of themwas boosted to the back of the elephant to whom this episode was moreor less familiar. Another followed; the third was pulled up, and fromthe elephant's back they made the top of the wall and disappeared downinto the street. Here they paused cautiously, for two guards alwayspatrolled the front of the compound during the night. Presently thethree truants stole away toward the bazaars which in this desert townoccupied but a single street. Down they went into a cellar way and theguru's curse stalked beside them. For opium is the handmaiden of allcurses.

Perhaps twenty minutes later slight sounds came from the front of thecompound wall. A rifle barrel clattered upon the cobbles. Then, overthe wall, near the elephant, a head appeared, then a body. This wasrepeated four times, and four light-footed nomads of the desert loweredthemselves into the compound. They ran quickly to the gate andnoiselessly unbarred it. Outside were five more desert nomads,gathered about the insensible bodies of the sentries.

These nine men were the dancers who had entered the town in advance ofKathlyn. For weeks they had lain in wait for this moment. They hadspied upon the three low caste keepers and upon learning of theirnocturnal junkets into the opium den had cast the die this night.

With the utmost caution they approached the sacred elephant, took offhis chains and led him from the compound. Immediately six of themarauders trotted far ahead toward the gate they knew to be the leastguarded. The sacred elephant, passing through the streets, attended bythree men, aroused no suspicions in any straggler who saw. So remotewas the walled city, so seemingly impregnable, and so little interferedwith that it was only human that its guardians should eventually growcareless.

When the keepers, straggling under the fumes of the drug, returned neardaybreak, first to find the gate open, second to find their sacredcharge gone, they fled in terror; for it would be death, lingering andpainful, for them to stay and explain how and why they had left theirpost.

The wild and lawless brigands knew exactly what they were about. Therewere several agents of European and American circuses after this whiteelephant, and as it could not be purchased there was no reason why itcould not be stolen.

When the Brahmin arrived at sunrise to find his vocation gone he set upa wailing which awakened the household. The Khan was furious andordered a general search. He vowed death to the foul hands which haddone this sacrilege!

Kathlyn and the others were genuinely sorry when they heard the news.They were in the armory when the Khan announced what had taken place.

Said he: "Come, you are all skilled hunters. Find me my elephant andthese guns and newer and surer ones shall protect you from Durga Ram,should he take it into his head to come this way."

The colonel, Bruce and Ramabai set off at once. After they had gone acamel rider entered the compound and sought audience with Bala Khan.Kathlyn and Pundita were in the compound at the time and the former wasgreatly interested in the saddlebags, attached to one of which was abinocular case. Kathlyn could not resist the inclination to open thiscase. It contained an exceptionally fine pair of glasses, such as wereused in that day in the British army. No doubt they were a part ofsome loot.

Suddenly an idea came to her. She asked permission (through Pundita)to ride the camel outside the town. After some argument the servant incharge consented.

Upon a knoll outside the city—a hillock of sand three or four hundredfeet in height—Kathlyn tried the glasses. From this promontory shehad a range of something like fifteen to twenty miles. Back and forthher gaze roved and suddenly paused.

CHAPTER XII

THE PLAN OF RAMABAI

When Kathlyn returned to the compound it was with the news that she haddiscovered a group of men, some twelve or fifteen miles to the west.They had paused at what appeared to be a well, and with them was thesacred white elephant. Bala Khan was for giving orders at once to setout with his racing camels to catch and crucify every mother's son ofthem on the city walls. But Ramabai interposed.

"As I came toward the compound I was given a message. The man who gaveit to me was gone before I could get a good look at his face. Thesem*n who stole the sacred white elephant are brave and desperate. Atthe first sign of pursuit they promise to kill the elephant."

"And by the beard of the prophet," cried Bala Khan, his face purplingwith passion, "these men of the desert keep their promises. And so doI. I promise later to nail each one of them to the walls to diehanging to nails!"

"But just now," said Ramabai quietly, "the main thing is to rescue theelephant, and I have a plan."

"Let me hear it."

"From what you told me last night," went on Ramabai, "those nomads orbrigands are opium fiends."

Bala Khan nodded.

"Bruce Sahib, here, and I will undertake to carry them doctored opium.I know something about the drug. I believe that we saw the thieveslast evening as we came through the streets. My plan is this: we willtake five racing camels, go north and turn, making the well from thewest. That will not look like pursuit."

"But five camels?" Bala Khan was curious.

"Yes. In order to allay the suspicions of the brigands, KathlynMem-sahib and my wife must accompany us."

The colonel objected, but Kathlyn overruled his objections.

"But, Kit, they will recognize us. They will not have forgot me. Theywill know that we have come from the town, despite the fact that to allappearances we come from the West."

Bruce also shook his head. "It doesn't look good, Ramabai. Why not wethree men?"

"They would be suspicious at once. They would reason, if they sawKathlyn Mem-sahib and my wife with us that we were harmless. Will youtrust me?"

"Anywhere," said the colonel. "But they will simply make us prisonersalong with the elephant."

"Ah, but the Colonel Sahib forgets the opium." Ramabai laid his handupon the colonel's arm. "Let them make prisoners of us. The veryfirst thing they will do will be to search the saddle-bags. They willfind the opium. In a quarter of an hour they will be as dead and wecan return."

"It is a good plan," said Bala Khan, when the conversation was fullytranslated to him. "And once the elephant is back in the compound I'llsend a dozen men back for the rogues. Ah! they will play with me; theywill steal into my town, overcome my guards, take the apple of my eye!Ramabai, thou art a friend indeed. Haste and Allah fend for thee!Umballa may arrive with an army, but he shall not enter my gates."

Guided by a servant, Bruce and Ramabai set off for the opium den. Theproprietor understood exactly what they desired. There were times whenmen entered his place who were in need of a long sleep, having moneytucked away in their fantastic cumme*rbunds.

So, mounted upon five swift camels, the party started off on a widecircle. Whether they caught the brigands at the well or on the way totheir mountain homes was of no great importance. Ramabai was quitecertain that the result would be the same. The colonel grumbled a gooddeal. Supposing the rascals did not smoke; what then?

"They will smoke," declared Ramabai confidently. "The old rascal ofwhom we bought the opium has entertained them more than once. They aretoo poor to own pipes. Have patience, Colonel Sahib. A good dealdepends upon the success of our adventure this morning. If I knowanything about Umballa, he will shortly be on the march. Bala Khan hasgiven his word."

Had it not been for liberal use of opium the night before, the brigandswould not have tarried so long at the well; but they were terriblythirsty, a bit nerve shattered and craved for the drug. The chiefalone had fully recovered. He cursed and raved at his men, kicked andbeat them. What! After all these weeks of waiting, to let sleep standbetween them and thousands of rupees! Dogs! Pigs! Did they notrecollect that Bala Khan had a way of nailing thieves outside the wallsof his city? Well, he for one would not wait. He would mount thesacred white elephant and head toward the caves in the hills. Let themwho would decorate the walls of Bala Khan. The threat of Bala Khan putlife into the eight followers, and they were getting ready to move on,when one of them discovered a small caravan approaching from the west.

Camels? Ha! Here was a chance of leaving Bala Khan's city far in therear. And there would be loot besides. Those helmets were never wornby any save white men. The chief scowled under his shading palm.Women! Oh, this was going to be something worth while.

When the caravan came within hailing distance the chief of the brigandsstepped forward menacingly. The new arrivals were informed that theywere prisoners, and were bidden to dismount at once.

"But we are on the way to the city of Bala Khan," remonstrated Ramabai.

"Which you left this morning!" jeered the chief.

"Dismount!"

"But I am selling opium there!"

"Opium!"

"Where is it? Give it to us!" cried one of the brigands.

The chief thought quickly. If his men would smoke they should sufferthe penalty of being left at the well to await the arrival of thetender Bala Khan. The white elephant was worth ten thousand rupees.He might not be obliged to share these bags of silver. His men couldnot complain. They had discharged him. Let them have the pipes. Hehimself would only pretend to smoke.

But the first whiff of the fumes was too much for his will power. Hesucked in the smoke, down to the bottom of his very soul, and suddenlyfound peace. The superdrug with which the poppy had been mixed wasunknown to Ramabai, but he had often witnessed tests of its potency.It worked with the rapidity of viper venom. Within ten minutes afterthe first inhalation the nine brigands sank back upon the sand, asnearly dead as any man might care to be.

At once the elephant was liberated, and the party made off toward thetown. Colonel Hare, suspicious of everything these days, marveled overthe simplicity of the trick and the smoothness with which it had beenturned. He began to have hope for the future. Perhaps this time theywere really going to escape from this land accursed.

There was great powwowing and salaaming at the gate as the sacred whiteelephant loomed into sight. The old Brahmin who had charge of him weptfor joy. He was still a personage, respected, salaamed to, despite thepreponderance of Mohammedans. His sacred elephant!

Bala Khan was joyous. Here was the sacred elephant once more in thecompound, and not a piece out of his treasure chest. He was in luck.In the midst of his self-congratulations came the alarming news that alarge body of men were seen approaching across the desert from thedirection of Allaha. Bala Khan, his chiefs and his guests climbed tothe top of the wall and beheld the spectacle in truth. It required buta single look through the binoculars to discover to whom this hostbelonged.

"Umballa!" said Ramabai,

"Ah! Durga Ram, to pay his respects." Bala Khan rubbed his handstogether. It had been many moons since he had met a tulwar.

The colonel examined his revolver coldly. The moment that Umballa camewithin range the colonel intended to shoot. This matter was going tobe settled definitely, here and now. So long as Umballa lived, a dreadmenace hung above Kathlyn's head. So, then, Umballa must die.

Bala Khan was for beginning the warfare at once, but Bruce argued himout of this idea. Let them first learn what Umballa intended to do.There was no need of shedding blood needlessly.

"You white people must always talk," grumbled the Khan, who was afighting man, born of a race of fighters yet to bow the head to theyoke. "It is better to kill and talk afterward. I have given my wordto protect you, and the word of Bala Khan is as sound as British gold."

"For that," said Bruce, "thanks."

"Keep your men from the walls," cried Kathlyn, "and bring me the whiteelephant. I would deal with this man Umballa."

Her request was granted. So when Durga Ram and has soldiers arrivedbefore the closed gates they beheld Kathlyn mounted on the whiteelephant alone.

"What wish you here, Durga Ram?" she called down to the man on therichly caparisoned war elephant.

"You! Your father and those who have helped you to escape."

"Indeed! Well, then, come and take us."

"I would speak with Bala Khan," imperiously.

"You will deal with me alone," declared Kathlyn.

Umballa reached for his rifle, but a loud murmur from the men stayedhis impulse.

"It is the sacred white elephant, Highness. None dare fire at that,"his captain warned him. "Those with him or upon him are in sanctity."

"Tell Bala Khan," said Umballa, controlling his rage as best he could,"tell Bala Khan that I would be his friend, not his enemy."

"Bala Khan," boomed a voice from the other side of the wall, "cares notfor your friendship. Whatever the Mem-sahib says is my word. What!Does Allaha want war for the sake of gratifying Durga Ram's spite?Begone, and thank your evil gods that I am not already at your lyingtreacherous throat. Take yourself off, Durga Ram. The people of BalaKhan do not make war on women and old men. The Mem-sahib and herfriends are under my protection."

"I will buy them!" shouted Umballa, recollecting the greed of Bala Khan.

"My word is not for sale!" came back.

Kathlyn understood by the expression on Umballa's countenance what wastaking place. She smiled down at her enemy.

"So be it, Bala Khan," snarled Umballa, his rage no longer on the rein."In one month's time I shall return, and of your city there will not beone stone upon another when I leave it!"

"One month!" Ramabai laughed.

"Why are you always smiling, Ramabai?" asked Bruce.

"I have had a dream, Sahib," answered Ramabai, still smiling. "Umballawill not return here."

"You could tell me more than that."

"I could, but will not," the smile giving way to sternness.

"If only I knew what had become of Ahmed," said the colonel, when thelast of Umballa's soldiers disappeared whence they had come, "I shouldfeel content."

"We shall find him, or he will find us, if he is alive," said Kathlyn."Now let us make ready for the last journey. One hundred miles to thewest is the Arabian gulf. It is a caravan port, and there will besailing vessels and steamships." She shook him by the shouldersjoyously. "Dad, we are going home, home!"

"Kit, I want to see Winnie!"

The word sent a twinge of pain through Bruce's heart. Home! Would heever have a real one? Was she to go out of his life at last? KathlynHare.

"But you, Ramabai?" said Kathlyn.

"I shall return to Allaha, I and Pundita," replied Ramabai.

"It will be death!" objected Bruce and Kathlyn together.

"I think not," and Ramabai permitted one of his mysterious smiles tostir his lips.

"Ramabai!" whispered Pundita fearfully.

"Yes. After all, why should we wait?"

"I?"

"Even so!"

"What is all this about?" inquired Kathlyn.

"Allaha is weary of Umballa's iron heel, weary of a vacillatingcouncil. And the time has arrived when the two must be abolished. Athousand men await the turn of my hand. And who has a better right tothe throne of Allaha than Pundita, my wife?"

"Good!" cried Kathlyn, her eyes sparkling. "Good! And if we can helpyou——"

"Kit," interposed the colonel, "we can give Ramabai and Pundita onlyour good wishes. Our way lies to the west, to the seaport and home."

Ramabai bowed.

And the party returned to the compound rather subdued. This quietyoung native banker would go far.

"And if I am ever queen, will my beautiful Mem-sahib come back some dayand visit me?"

"That I promise, Pundita, though I have no love for Allaha."

"We will go with you to the coast," said Ramabai, "and on our return toAllaha will see what has become of the faithful Ahmed."

"For that my thanks," responded the colonel. "Ahmed has been with mefor many years, and has shared with me many hardships. If he lives, hewill be a marked man, so far as Umballa is concerned. Aid him to cometo me. The loss of my camp and bungalow is nothing. The fact that weare all alive to-day is enough for me. But you, Bruce; will it hit youhard?"

Bruce laughed easily. "I am young. Besides, it was a pastime for me,though I went at it in a business way."

"I am glad of that. There is nothing to regret in leaving this part ofthe world." Yet the colonel sighed.

And Kathlyn heard that sigh, and intuitively understood. The filigreebasket of gems. Of such were the minds of men.

But the colonel was taken ill that night, and it was a week before heleft his bed, and another before he was considered strong enough toattempt the journey. Bala Khan proved to be a fine host, for he lovedmen of deeds, and this white-haired old man was one of the rightkidney. He must be strong ere he took the long journey over the hotsands to the sea.

A spy of Umballa's watched and waited to carry the news to his master,the day his master's enemies departed from the haven of Bala Khan'swalled city.

When the day came the Khan insisted that his guests should use his owncamels and servants, and upon Ramabai's return the elephants would beturned over to him for his journey back to Allaha. Thus, one brightmorning, the caravan set forth for what was believed to be the lastjourney.

And Umballa's spy hastened away.

All day long they wound in and out, over and down the rolling mounds ofsand, pausing only once, somewhere near four o'clock, when theydismounted for a space to enjoy a bite to eat and a cup of tea. Thenon again, through the night, making about sixty miles in all. At dawnthey came upon a well, and here they decided to rest till sunset.Beyond the well, some twenty-five miles, lay the low mountain rangeover which they must pass to the sea. At the foot of these hills stooda small village, which they reached about ten o'clock that night.

They found the village wide awake. The pariah dogs were howling. Andon making inquiries it was learned that a tiger had been prowling aboutfor three or four nights, and that they had set a trap cage for thebrute. The colonel and Bruce at once assumed charge. The old zestreturned with all its vigor and allurement. Even Kathlyn and Punditadecided to join the expedition, though Pundita knew nothing of arms.

Now, this village was the home of the nine brigands, and whenever theywere about they dominated the villagers. They were returning from aforaging expedition into the hills, and discovered the trap cage withthe tiger inside. Very good. The tiger was no use to any butthemselves, since they knew where to sell it. They were in the act ofpulling the brush away from the cage when they heard sounds of othersapproaching. With the suspicion which was a part of their businessthey immediately ran to cover to see who it was.

Instantly the chief of the brigands discovered that these new arrivalswere none other than the white people who had given him and his men asuperdrug and thereby mulcted them out of the sacred white elephantwhich was to have brought them a fortune.

Unfortunately, the men of Kathlyn's party laid aside their weapons onapproaching the cage to tear away the brush. Eight brigands, at a signfrom their chief, surrounded the investigators, who found themselvesnicely caught.

The natives fled incontinently. So did Bala Khan's camel men.

"Death if you move!" snarled the chief. "Ah, you gave us bad opium,and we dropped like logs! Swine!" He raised his rifle threateningly.

"Wait a minute," said Bruce coolly. "What you want is money."

"Ay, money! Ten thousand rupees!"

"It shall be given you if you let us go. You will conduct us over thehills to the sea, and there the money will be given you."

The chief laughed long and loudly. "What! Am I a goat to put my headinside the tiger's jaws? Nay, I shall hold you here for ransom. Letthem bring gold. Now, take hold," indicating the trap cage. "We shalltake this fine man eater along with us. I am speaking to you, whitemen, and you, pig of a Hindu! Chalu! I will kill any one who falters.Opium! Ah, yes! You shall pay for my headache and the sickness of mycomrades. Chalu! And your white woman; she shall give a ransom of herown!"

The village jutted out into the desert after the fashion of apeninsula. On the west of it lay another stretch of sand. Theyfollowed the verdure till they reached the base of the rocky hills,which were barren of any vegetation; huge jumbles of granite the colorof porphyry. During the night they made about ten miles, and at dawnwere smothered by one of those raging sand-storms, prevalent in thislatitude. They had to abandon the trap cage and seek shelter in anear-by cave. Here they remained huddled together till the storm diedaway.

"It has blown itself out," commented the chief. Then he spoke toRamabai. "Who is this man?" with a nod toward the colonel.

"He is an American."

"He came for Allaha?"

"Yes," said Ramabai unsuspiciously.

"Ha! Then that great prince did not lie."

"What prince?" cried Ramabai, now alarmed.

"The Prince Durga Ram. Three fat bags of silver, he said, would he payme for the white hunter with the white hair. It is the will of Allah!"

The colonel's head sank upon his knees. Kathlyn patted his shoulder.

"Father, I tell you mind not the mouthings of a vile guru. We shallsoon be free."

"Kit, this time, if I return to Allaha, I shall die. I feel it in mybones."

"And I say no!"

The chief turned to Ramabai. "You and the woman with you shall thisday seek two camels of the five you borrowed from Bala Khan. You willjourney at once to Allaha. But do not waste your time in stopping toacquaint Bala Khan. At the first sign of armed men each of those leftshall die in yonder tiger cage."

"We refuse!"

"Then be the first to taste the tiger's fangs!"

The chief called to his men to seize Ramabai and Pundita, when Kathlyninterfered.

"Go, Ramabai; it is useless to fight against these men who mean allthey say, and who are as cruel as the tiger himself."

"It shall be as the Mem-sahib says," replied Ramabai resignedly.

One morning Umballa entered the judgment hall of the palace, disturbedin mind. Anonymous notes, bidding him not to persecute Ramabai and hiswife further, on pain of death. He had found these notes at the doorof his zenana, in his stables, on his pillows. In his heart he hadsworn the death of Ramabai; but here was a phase upon which he had setno calculation. Had there not been unrest abroad he would have scornedto pay any attention to these warnings; but this Ramabai—may he burnin hell!—was a power with the populace, with low and high castesalike, and for the first time, now that he gave the matter carefulthought, his own future did not look particularly clear. More thanever he must plan with circ*mspection. He must trap Ramabai, openly,lawfully, in the matter of sedition.

Imagine his astonishment when, a few minutes after his arrival, Ramabaiand Pundita demanded audience, the one straight of back and proud oflook, the other serene and tranquil! Umballa felt a wave of bland[Transcriber's note: blind?] hatred surge over him, but he gave nosign. Ramabai stated his case briefly. Colonel Hare and his daughterwere being held prisoners for ransom. Three bags of silver—somethinglike five thousand rupees—were demanded by the captors.

The council looked toward Umballa, who nodded, having in mind the partof the good Samaritan, with reservations, to be sure. Having trod thepaths of the white man, he had acquired a certain adroitness in holdinghis people. They had at best only the stability of chickens. What atone moment was a terror was at another a feast. For the present, then,he would pretend that he had forgot all about Ramabai's part in thevarious unsuccessful episodes.

To the council and the gurus (or priests) he declared that he himselfwould undertake to assume the part of envoy; he himself would bring thelegal king of Allaha back to his throne. True, the daughter had beencrowned, but she had forfeited her rights. Thus he would return withColonel Hare as soon as he could make the journey and return.

"He is contemplating some treachery," said Ramabai to his wife. "Imust try to learn what it is."

In his shop in the bazaars Lal Singh had resumed his awl. He had, as acompanion, a bent and shaky old man, whose voice, however, possessed aresonance which belied the wrinkles and palsied hands.

"The rains," said Lal Singh, "are very late this year. Leather will bepoor."

"Aye."

All of which signified to Ahmed that the British Raj had too manyaffairs just then to give proper attention to the muddle in Allaha.

"But there is this man Ramabai. He runs deep."

"So!"

"He has been conspiring for months."

"Then why does he not strike?"

"He is wary. He is wary; a good sign." Lal Singh reached for his pipeand set the water bubbling. "In a few weeks I believe all will beready, even the British Raj."

"Why will men be sheep?"

Lal Singh shrugged. "Only Allah knows. But what about this guru'scurse you say follows the Colonel Sahib?"

"It is true. I was there," said Ahmed. "And here am I, with a priceon my head!"

"In the business we are in there will always be a price on our heads.And Umballa will bring back the Colonel Sahib. What then?"

"We know what we know, Lal Singh," and the face under the hood brokeinto a smile.

Five days passed. The chief of the brigands was growing restless. Hefinally declared that unless the ransom was delivered that night hewould rid himself of them all. The tiger was starving. In order toprove that he was not chattering idly he had the prisoners tied to thewheels of the cage. It would at least amuse him to watch their growingterror.

"Look! Some one is coming!" cried Kathlyn.

The chief saw the caravan at the same time, and he set up a shout ofpleasure. Three fat bags of silver rupees!

Umballa, the good Samaritan, bargained with the chief. He did not wantall the prisoners, only one. Three bags of silver would be forthcomingupon the promise that the young woman and the young man should bedisposed of.

"By the tiger?"

Umballa shrugged. To him it mattered not how. The chief, weary of hisvigil, agreed readily enough, and Umballa turned over the silver.

"The guru, my Kit! You see? This is the end. Well, I am tired. Afiligree basket of gems!"

"So!" said Umballa, smiling at Kathlyn. "You and your lover shallindeed be wed—by the striped one! A sad tale I shall take back withme. You were both dead when I arrived."

Presently Bruce and Kathlyn were alone. They could hear the brute inthe cage, snarling and clawing at the wooden door.

CHAPTER XIII

LOVE

The golden sands, the purple cliffs, the translucent blue of theheavens, and the group of picturesque rascals jabbering andgesticulating and pressing about their chief, made a picture Kathlynwas never to forget.

"Patience, my little ones!" said the chief, showing his white strongteeth in what was more of a snarl than a smile. "There is plenty oftime."

Bruce leaned toward Kathlyn.

"Stand perfectly still, just as you are. I believe I can reach theknot back of your hands. This squabbling is the very thing needed.They will not pay any attention to us for a few minutes, and if I canread signs they'll all be at one another's throats shortly."

"But even if we get free what can we do?"

Kathlyn was beginning to lose both faith and heart. The sight of herfather being led back to Allaha by Durga Ram, after all the misery towhich he had been subjected, shook the courage which had held her upthese long happy weeks. For she realized that her father was stillweak, and that any additional suffering would kill him.

"You mustn't talk like that," said Bruce. "You've been in tighterplaces than this. If we can get free, leave the rest to me. So longas one can see and hear and move, there's hope."

"I'm becoming a coward. Do what you can. I promise to obey you in allthings."

Bruce bent as far as he could, and went desperately to work at the knotwith his teeth. Success or failure did not really matter; simply, hedid not propose to die without making a mighty struggle to avoid death.The first knot became loose, then another. Kathlyn stirred her handscautiously.

"Now!" he whispered.

She twisted her hands two or three times and found them free.

"Mine, now!" said Bruce. "Hurry!"

It was a simple matter for her to release Bruce.

"God bless those rupees!" he murmured. "There'll be a fine row in aminute. Keep perfectly still, and when the moment comes follow me intothe cave. They have left their guns in there."

"You are a brave and ready man, Mr. Bruce."

"You called me John once."

"Well, then, John," a ghost of a smile flitting across her lips. Menwere not generally sentimental in the face of death.

"There are nine of us!" screamed one of the brigands.

"And I claim one bag because without my help and brains you would havehad nothing," roared the chief. "Who warned you against the opium?Ha, pig!"

The first blow was struck. Instantly the chief drew his knife andlunged at the two nearest him.

"Treachery!"

"Ha! Pigs! Dogs! Come, I'll show you who is master!"

"Thief!"

The remaining brigands closed in upon their leader and bore him uponhis back.

"To the tiger with him!"

"Now!" cried Bruce.

He flung the rope from his hands, caught Kathlyn by the arm, andrunning and stumbling, they gained the cave, either ignored orunobserved by the victorious brigands.

They dragged the stunned leader to his feet and haled him to the cage,lashing him to a wheel. Next, they seized the rope which operated thedoor and retired to the mouth of the cave.

"Rob us, would he!"

"Take the lion's share when we did all the work!"

"Swine!"

"I will give it all to you!" whined the whilom chief, mad with terror.

"And knife us in the back when we sleep! No, no! You have kicked andcuffed us for the last time!"

Bruce picked up one of the rifles and drew Kathlyn farther into thecave.

"Get behind me and crouch low. They'll come around to us presently."

The rascals gave the rope a savage pull, and from where he stood Brucecould see the lean striped body of the furious tiger leap to freedom.

"Keep your eyes shut. It will not be a pleasant thing to look at," hewarned the girl.

But Kathlyn could not have closed her eyes if she had tried. She sawthe brute pause, turn and strike at the helpless man at the wheel, thenlope off, doubtless having in mind to test his freedom before he fed.The remaining brigands rushed out and gathered up the bags of rupees.

This was the opportunity for which Bruce had waited.

"Come. There may be some outlet to this cave. Here is another rifle.Let us cut for it! When thieves fall out; you know the old saying."

They ran back several yards and discovered a kind of chasm leadingdiagonally upward.

"Thank God! We can get out of this after all. Are you strong enoughfor a stiff climb?"

"I've got to be—John!"

"Trust me, Kathlyn," he replied simply. He had but one life, but hedetermined then and there to make it equal or outlast the six liveswhich stood between him and liberty.

The brigands, having succeeded in their mutiny, bethought themselves oftheir prisoners, only to find that they had vanished. Familiar withthe cave and its outlet, they started eagerly in pursuit. Theyreasoned that if an old man was worth three bags of rupees, two youngpeople might naturally be worth twice as much. And besides, beingtigers, they had tasted blood.

A shout caused Bruce to turn. Instantly he raised his rifle, andpulled the trigger. The result was merely a snap. The gun had notbeen loaded. He snatched Kathlyn's rifle, but this, too, was useless.The brigands yelled exultantly and began to swarm up the ragged cliff.Bruce flung aside the gun and turned his attention to a boulder.Halfway up the chasm had a width which was little broader than theshoulders of an ordinary man. He waited till he saw the wretcheswithin a yard or so of this spot, then pushed this boulder. It roaredand crashed and bounded, and before it reached the narrow pathway Brucehad started a mate to it. Then a third followed. This caused aterrific slide of rocks and boulders, and the brigands turned for theirlives.

"That will be about all for the present," said Bruce, wiping hisforehead. "Now if we can make that village we shall be all right.Bala Khan's men will not leave with the camels till they learn whetherwe are dead or alive. It will be a hard trek, Miss Kathlyn. Ten milesover sand is worse than fifty over turf. I don't think we'll see anymore of those ruffians."

"Kathlyn," she said.

"Well—Kathlyn!"

"Or, better still, at home they call me Kit."

They smiled into each other's eyes, and no words were needed. Thusquickly youth discards its burdens!

That he did not take her into his arms at once proved the caliber ofthe man. And Kathlyn respected him none the less for his control. Sheknew now; and she was certain that her eyes had told him as frankly asany words would have done; and she fell into his stride, strangelyembarrassed and not a little frightened. The firm grasp of his hand ashere and there he steadied her sent a thrill of exquisite pleasurethrough her.

Love! She laughed softly; and he stopped and eyed her in astonishment.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," she answered.

But she went on with the thought which had provoked her laughter.Love! Danger all about, unseen, hidden; misery in the foreground, andperhaps death beyond; her father back in chains, to face she knew notwhat horrors, and yet she could pause by the wayside and think of love!

"There was something," he insisted. "That wasn't happy laughter. Whatcaused it?"

"Some day I will tell you—if we live."

"Live?" Then he laughed.

And she was not slow to recognize the Homeric quality of his laughter.

"Kit, I am going to get you and your father out of all this, if but forone thing."

"And what is that?" curious in her turn.

"I'll tell you later." And there the matter stood.

The journey to the village proved frightfully exhausting. The two werein a sorry plight when they reached the well.

The camel men were overjoyed at the sight of them. For hours they hadwaited in dread, contemplating flight which would take them anywherebut to Bala Khan, who rewarded cowardice in one fashion only. For, butfor their cowardly inactivity, their charges might by now be safe inthe seaport toward which they had been journeying. So they broughtfood for the two and begged that they would not be accused of cowardiceto Bala Khan.

"Poor devils!" said Bruce. "Had they shown the least resistance thosebrigand chaps would have killed them off like rats." He beckoned tothe head man. "Take us back to Bala Khan in the morning, and wepromise that no harm shall befall you. Now, find us a place to sleep."

Nevertheless, it was hard work to keep that promise. Bala Khan stormedand swore that death was too good for the watery hearts of his camelmen. They should be crucified on the wall. Kathlyn's diplomacy aloneaverted the tragedy. Finally, with a good deal of reluctance, BalaKhan gave his word.

So Bruce and Kathlyn planned to return to Allaha, and it was the Khanhimself who devised the method. The two young people should staintheir skins and don native dress. He would give them two camelsoutright, only they would be obliged to make the journey withoutservants.

"But if harm comes to you, and I hear of it, by the beard of theprophet, I'll throw into Allaha such a swarm of stinging bees that allHind shall hear of it. Now go, and may Allah watch over you, infidelsthough you be!"

Umballa sent a messenger on before, for he loved the theatrical, whichis innate in all Orientals. He desired to enter the city to theshrilling of reeds and the booming of tom-toms; to impress upon thisunruly populace that he, Durga Ram, was a man of his word, that when heset out to accomplish a thing it was as good as done. His arrival wasgreeted with cheers, but there was an undertone of groans that was notpleasant to his keen ears. Deep in his heart he cursed, for by thesesounds he knew that only the froth was his, the froth and scum of thetown. The iron heel; so they would have it in preference to hisfriendship. Oh, for some way to trap Ramabai, to hold him up inridicule, to smash him down from his pedestal, known but as yet unseen!

He wondered if he would find any more of those anonymous notes relatingto the inviolable person of Ramabai. Woe to him who laid them about,could he but put his hand upon him! He, Durga Ram, held Allaha in thehollow of his hand, and this day he would prove it.

So he put a rope about the waist of Colonel Hare, and led him throughthe streets, as the ancient Romans he had read about did to thevanquished. He himself recognized the absurdity of all these things,but his safety lay in the fact that the populace at large wereincapable of reasoning for themselves; they saw only that which wasvisible to the eye.

On the palace steps he harangued the people, praising his deeds. Healone had gone into the wilderness and faced death to ransom theirlawful king. Why these bonds? The king had shirked his duty; he hadbetrayed his trust; but in order that the people should be no longerwithout a head, this man should become their prisoner king; he shouldbe forced to sign laws for their betterment. Without the royalsignature the treasury could not be touched, and now the soldiersshould be paid in full.

From the soldiers about came wild huzzahs.

Ahmed and Lal Singh, packed away in the heart of the crowd, exchangedgloomy looks. Once the army was Umballa's, they readily understoodwhat would follow: Umballa would acclaim himself, and the troops wouldback him.

"We have a thousand guns and ten thousand rounds of ammunition,"murmured Lal Singh.

"Perhaps we had best prevail upon Ramabai to strike at once. But wait.The Colonel Sahib understands. He knows that if he signs anything itwill directly proved his death-warrant. There is still an obstacle atUmballa's feet. Listen!"

Sadly Umballa recounted his adventure in full. The daughter of theking and his friend, the American hunter, were dead. He, Umballa, hadarrived too late.

The colonel, mad with rage, was about to give Umballa the lie publicly,when he saw a warning hand uplifted, and below that hand the face ofAhmed. Ahmed shook his head. The colonel's shoulders drooped. Inthat sign he read danger.

"They live," said Ahmed. "That is enough for the present. Let usbegone to the house of Ramabai."

"The Colonel Sahib is safe for the time being."

"And will be so long as he refuses to open the treasury door toUmballa. There is a great deal to smile about, Lal Singh. Here is atreasury, guarded by seven leopards, savage as savage can be. Only twokeepers ever dare approach them, and these keepers refuse to cage theleopards without a formal order from the king or queen. Superstitionforbids Umballa to make way with the brutes. The people, your peopleand mine, Lal Singh, believe that these leopards are sacred, and anywho kills them commits sacrilege, and you know what that amounts tohere. So there he dodders; too cowardly to fly in the face ofsuperstition. He must torture and humiliate the Colonel Sahib and hisdaughter. Ah, these white people! They have heads and hearts ofsteel. I know."

"And Umballa has the heart of a flea-bitten pariah dog. When the timecomes he will grovel and squirm and whine."

"He will," agreed Ahmed. "His feet are even now itching for thetreadmill."

The colonel was taken to one of the palace chambers, given a tub andfresh clothing. Outside in the corridors guards patrolled, and therewere four who watched the window. He was a king, but well guarded.Well, they had crowned him, but never should Umballa, through anysignature of his, put his hand into the royal treasury. Besides, thistime he had seen pity and sympathy in the faces of many who had lookedupon his entrance to the city. The one ray of comfort lay in theknowledge that faithful Ahmed lived.

He dared not think of Kathlyn. He forced his mind to dwell upon hissurroundings, his own state of misery. Bruce was there, and Bruce wasa man of action and resource. He would give a good account of himselfbefore those bronze devils in the desert made away with him. He fearednot for Kathlyn's death, only her future. For they doubtless had liedto Umballa. They would not kill Kathlyn so long as they believed shewas worth a single rupee.

Umballa came in, followed by four troopers, who stationed themselves oneach side of the door.

"Your Majesty——"

"Wait!" thundered the colonel. Suddenly he turned to the troopers."Am I your king?"

"Yes, Majesty!"

The four men salaamed.

"Then I order you to arrest this man Durga Ram for treason against theperson of your king!"

The troopers stared, dumfounded, first at the colonel, then at Umballa.

"I command it!"

Umballa laughed. The troopers did not stir.

"Ah," said the colonel. "That is all I desire to know. I am not aking. I am merely a prisoner. Therefore those papers which you bringme can not lawfully be signed by me." The colonel turned his back toUmballa, sought the latticed window and peered forth.

"There are ways," blazed forth Umballa.

"Bah! You black fool!" replied the colonel, wheeling. "Have I not yetconvinced you that all you can do is to kill me? Don't waste your timein torturing me. It will neither open my lips nor compel me to take acharacter brush in my hand. If my daughter is dead, so be it. At anyrate, she is at present beyond your clutches. You overreachedyourself. Had you brought her back it is quite possible I might havesurrendered. But I am alone now."

"You refuse to tell where the filigree basket is hidden?"

"I do."

"You refuse to exercise your prerogative to open the doors of thetreasury?"

"I do."

Umballa opened the door, motioning to the troopers to pass out. Heframed the threshold and curiously eyed this unbendable man. Presentlyhe would bend. Umballa smiled.

"Colonel Sahib, I am not yet at the end of my resources," and with thishe went out, closing the door.

That smile troubled the colonel. What deviltry was the scoundrel up tonow? What could he possibly do?

Later, as he paced wearily to and fro, he saw something white slipunder the door. He stooped and picked up a note, folded Europeanfashion. His heart thrilled as he read the stilted script:

"Ahmed and I shall watch over you. Be patient. This time I ampretending to be your enemy, and you must act accordingly. A messengerhas arrived from Bala Khan. Your daughter and Bruce Sahib are alive,and, more, on the way to Allaha in native guise. Be of good cheer,Ramabai."'

And Umballa, as he lifted his fruit dish at supper, espied another ofthose sinister warnings. "Beware!" This time he summoned his entirehousehold and threatened death to each and all of them if they did notimmediately disclose to him the person who had placed this note underthe fruit dish. They cringed and wept and wailed, but nothing could begot out of them. He had several flogged on general principles.

Kathlyn and Bruce returned to Allaha without mishap. Neither animalnor vagabond molested them. When they arrived they immediately foundmeans to acquaint Ramabai, who with Pundita set out to meet them.

In their picturesque disguises Kathlyn and Bruce made a handsome pairof high caste natives. The blue eyes alone might have caused remarks,but this was a negligible danger, since color and costume detracted.Kathlyn's hair, however, was securely hidden, and must be kept so. Abit of carelessness on her part, a sportive wind, and she would belost. She had been for dyeing her hair, but Bruce would not hear ofthis desecration.

So they entered the lion's den, or, rather, the jackal's.

At Ramabai's house Ahmed fell on his knees in thankfulness; not thathis Mem-sahib was in Allaha, but that she was alive.

During the evening meal Ramabai outlined his plot to circumventUmballa. He had heard from one of his faithful followers that Umballaintended to force the colonel into a native marriage; later, to disposeof the colonel and marry the queen himself. Suttee had fallen indisuse in Allaha. He, Ramabai, would now apparently side with Umballaas against Colonel Hare, who would understand perfectly. As thecolonel would refuse to marry, he, Ramabai, would suggest that thecolonel be married by proxy. However suspicious Umballa might be, hewould not be able to find fault with this plan. The betrothal wouldtake place in about a fortnight. The Mem-sahib would be chosen asconsort out of all the assembled high caste ladies of the state.

Ahmed threw up his hands in horror, but Lal Singh bade him be patient.What did the Mem-sahib say to this? The Mem-sahib answered that sheplaced herself unreservedly in Ramabai's hands; that Umballa was amadman and must be treated as one.

"Ramabai, why not strike now?" suggested Ahmed.

"The promise Umballa has made to the soldiers has reunited themtemporarily. Have patience, Ahmed." Lal Singh selected a leaf withbetel-nut and began to chew with satisfaction.

"Patience?" said Ahmed? "Have I none?"

So the call went forth for a bride throughout the principality, and wasanswered from the four points of the compass.

Between the announcement and the fulfilment of these remarkableproceedings there arrived in the blazing city of Calcutta a young maid.Her face was very stern for one so youthful, and it was as fearless asit was stern. Umballa's last card, had she but known the treacherywhich had lured her to this mystic shore. The young maid was Winnie,come, as she supposed, at the urgent call of her father and sister, andparticularly warned to confide in no one and to hide with the utmostsecrecy her destination.

CHAPTER XIV

THE VEILED CANDIDATES

From the four ends of the principality they came, the veiledcandidates; from the north, the east, the south and west. They came inmarvelous palanquins, in curtained howdahs, on camels, in splendidbullock carts. Many a rupee resolved itself into new-bought finery,upon the vague chance of getting it back with compound interest.

What was most unusual, they came without pedigree or dowry, this beingRamabai's idea; though, in truth, Umballa objected at first to the lackof dowry. He had expected to inherit this dowry. He gave way toRamabai because he did not care to have Ramabai suspect what his innerthoughts were. Let the fool Ramabai pick out his chestnuts for him.Umballa laughed in his voluminous sleeve.

Some one of these matrimonially inclined houris the colonel would haveto select; if he refused, then should Ramabai do the selecting. More,he would marry the fortunate woman by proxy. There was no possibleloophole for the colonel.

The populace was charmed, enchanted, as it always is over a newexcitement. Much as they individually despised Umballa, collectivelythey admired his ingenuity in devising fresh amusem*nts. Extra feastdays came one after another. The Oriental dislikes work; and any onewho could invent means of avoiding it was worthy of gratitude. So,then, the populace fell in with Umballa's scheme agreeably. The bhangand betel and toddy sellers did a fine business during the festival ofRama.

There was merrymaking in the streets, day and night. The temples andmosques were filled to overflowing. Musicians with reeds and tom-tomsparaded the bazaars. In nearly every square the Nautch girl danced, orthe juggler plied his trade, or there was a mongoose-cobra fight (thecobra, of course, bereft of its fangs), and fakirs grew mango trees outof nothing. There was a flurry in the slave mart, too.

The troops swaggered about, overbearing. They were soon to get theirpay. The gold and silver were rotting in the treasury. Why leave itthere, since gold and silver were minted to be spent?

There were elephant fights in the reconstructed arena; tigers attackedwild boars, who fought with enormous razor-like tusks, as swift anddeadly as any Malay kris. The half forgotten ceremony of feeding thewild pig before sundown each day was given life again. And drove afterdrove came in from the jungles for the grain, which was distributedfrom a platform. And wild peaco*cks followed the pigs. A wonderfulsight it was to see several thousand pigs come trotting in, each droveheaded by its fighting boar. When the old fellows met there wascarnage; squealing and grunting, they fought. The peaco*cks shrilledand hopped from back to back for such grain as fell upon the bristlybacks of the pigs. Here and there a white peaco*ck would be snared, ora boar whose tusks promised a battle royal with some leopard or tiger.

And through all this turmoil and clamor Ahmed and Lal Singh moved,sounding the true sentiments of the people. They did not want whitekings or white queens; they desired to be ruled by their kind, whowould not start innovations but would let affairs drift on as they haddone for centuries.

Nor was Bruce inactive. Many a time Umballa had stood within an arm'slength of death; but always Bruce had resisted the impulse. It wouldbe rank folly to upset Ramabai's plans, which were to culminate inUmballa's overthrow.

But upon a certain hour Ramabai came to Bruce, much alarmed. Duringhis absence with Pundita at some palace affair his home had beenentered, ransacked, and ten thousand rupees had been stolen. His realfortune, however, was hidden securely. The real trouble was that theseten thousand rupees would practically undo much of what had beenaccomplished. He was certain that Umballa had instigated this theft,and that the money would be doled out to the soldiers. For upon theirdissatisfaction rested his future.

"Take Bala Khan at his word," suggested Bruce, "and ask him for hisfive thousand hillmen."

Ramabai smiled. "And have Bala Khan constitute himself the king ofAllaha! No, Sahib; he is a good friend, but he is also a dangerousone. We must have patience."

"Patience!" exploded Bruce.

"I have waited several years. Do you not see that when I strike I mustsucceed?"

"But these warnings to Umballa?"

"He is not molesting me, is he?" returned Ramabai calmly.

"Well, it is more than I could stand."

"Ah, you white people waste so much life and money by acting upon yourimpulses! Trust me; my way is best; and that is, for the present wemust wait."

"God knows," sighed Bruce, "but I am beginning to believe in thecolonel's guru."

"Who can say? There are some in this land who possess mighty wills,who can make man sleep by looking into his eyes, who can override anddestroy weaker minds. I know; I have seen. You have heard ofsuspended animation? Well, I have seen examples of it; and so have mypeople. Can you wonder at their easiness in being swayed this way andthat? But these men I refer to do not sit about in the bazaars withwooden bowls for coppers. It is said, however, that all curses diewith their makers. It depends upon how old the Colonel Sahib's guruis. I know priests who are more than a hundred years old, and wrinkledlike the bride of Hathi, the god of elephants."

"But a child could see through all this rigmarole."

"Can Bruce Sahib?" Again Ramabai smiled. "My people are sometimeschildren in that they need constant amusem*nt. Have patience, myfriend; for I understand. Do I not love Pundita even as you love theMem-sahib?"

"What do you mean?" demanded Bruce roughly.

"I have eyes."

"Well, yes; it is true. Behind you are your people; behind us,nothing. That is why I am frantic. Umballa, whenever he finds himselfcheckmated, digs up what he purports to be an unused law. There isnone to contest it. I tell you, Ramabai, we must escape soon, or wenever will. You suggested this impossible marriage. It is horrible."

"But it lulls Umballa; and lulled, he becomes careless. Beyond thenorth gate there are ever ready men and elephants. And when the momentarrives, thither we shall fly, all of us. But," mysteriously, "we maynot have to fly. When Umballa learns that the Colonel Sahib willrefuse to sign the necessary treasury release the soldiers willunderstand that once again they have been trifled with."

"We must wait. But it's mighty hard."

The garden of brides has already been described. But on this day whenthe ten veiled candidates sat in waiting there was spring in the air;and there were roses climbing trellises, climbing over the marblewalls, and the pomegranate blossoms set fire to it all. At the gatestood Ramabai, dressed according to his station, and representing byproxy the king. Presently a splendid palanquin arrived, and within ita tardy candidate. She was laden with jewels, armlets, anklets andhead ornaments; pearls and uncut sapphires and rubies. Upon liftingher veil she revealed a beautiful high caste face. Ramabai bade herpass on. No sooner had she taken her place than still anotherpalanquin was announced, and this last was drawn by fat sleek bullocks,all of a color.

Ramabai held up his hand. The bullock drivers stopped their charges,and from the palanquin emerged a veiled woman. This was Kathlyn.

The selected candidates were now all present. As master of ceremonies,Ramabai conducted them into the palace, thence into the throne roomgaily decorated for the occasion. In a balcony directly above thecanopy of the throne were musicians, playing the mournful harmonies sodear to the oriental heart.

Upon the throne sat Colonel Hare, gorgeously attired, but cold andstern of visage, prepared to play his part in this unutterablebuffoonery. Near by stood Durga Ram, so-called Umballa, smiling. Itwas going to be very simple; once yonder stubborn white fool waswedded, he should be made to disappear; and there should be anotherwedding in which he, Durga Ram, should take the part of the bridegroom.Then for the treasury, flight, and, later, ease abroad. Let thefiligree basket of gems stay where it was; there were millions in thetreasury, the accumulated hoardings of many decades.

The council and high priests also wore their state robes, and behindthem were officers and other dignitaries.

There was a stir as Ramabai entered with the veiled candidates. Thecolonel in vain tried to hide his interest and anxiety. Kathlyn wasthere, somewhere among these kotowing women; but there was nothing bywhich he could recognize her. As the women spread about the throne,Ramabai signified to the musicians to cease.

Silence.

Then Ramabai brought candidate after candidate close to the colonel, sothat he alone might see the face behind the veil. At each uplifting ofthe veil the colonel shook his head. A dark frown began to settle overUmballa's face. If the colonel refused the last candidate for nuptialhonors, he should die. But as Ramabai lifted the veil of this lastwoman the colonel nodded sharply; and Kathlyn, for a brief space, gazedinto her father's eyes. The same thought occurred to both; what ahorrible mockery it all was, and where would it lead finally?

"Take care!" whispered Kathlyn as she saw her father's fingers movenervously with suppressed longing to reach out and touch her.

The spectators of this little drama which was hidden from them evincedtheir approval by a murmuring which had something like applause in it.A queen was chosen! A real queen at last had been chosen. Ramabai hadaccomplished by diplomacy what yonder Durga Ram had failed to do byforce. But Umballa secretly smiled as he sensed this undercurrent.Presently they should see.

The colonel extended his hand and drew Kathlyn up beside him; and nowfor a moment the whole affair trembled in the balance: Kathlyn feltherself possessed with a wild desire to laugh.

The chain of gold, representing the betrothal, was now ordered broughtfrom the treasury.

The populace, outside the palace, having been acquainted with what wastaking place, burst out into cheers.

The treasure room, guarded by leopards in charge of incorruptiblekeepers, was now approached by Umballa and his captain of the guard.Umballa presented his order on the treasury. The leopards were driveninto their cages, and the magic door swung open. The two gasped forbreath; for Umballa had never before looked within. Everywhere goldand gems; fabulous riches, enough to make a man ten times a king.

"Highness," whispered the captain, "there is enough riches here topurchase the whole of Hind!"

As he stared Umballa surrendered to a passing dream. Presently heshook himself, sought the chain for which he had come, and reluctantlystepped out into the corridor again. He would return soon to thisdoor. But for that fool of a white man who had saved the king from theleopard, he would have opened this door long since. As he walked tothe outer door he thought briefly of the beauty of Kathlyn. She wasdead, and dead likewise was his passion for her.

Beyond the gate to the garden of brides Ahmed and Lal Singh waited withelephants. From here they would make the north gate, transfer to newelephants, and leave Allaha and its evil schemes behind. They createdno suspicion. There were many elephants about the palace this day. Inone of the howdahs sat Bruce, armed; in the other, Pundita, tremblingwith dread. So many arms had Siva, that evil spawn, that Pundita wouldnot believe all was well till they had crossed the frontier.

"They will be coming soon, Sahib," said Ahmed. Bruce wiped the sweatfrom his palms and nodded.

Now, when Umballa and his captain of the guard departed with thebetrothal chain they did not firmly close the outer door, which shutoff the leopards from the main palace. The leopards were immediatelyfreed and began their prowling through the corridors, snarling andgrowling as they scented the air through which the two men had justpassed. One paused by the door, impatiently thrusting out a paw.

The door gave.

In the throne room the mockery of the betrothal was gone through, andthen the calm Ramabai secretly signified that the hour for escape wasat hand; for everywhere, now that the ceremony was done, vigilancewould be lax.

Immediately the high priest announced that the successful candidatewould be conducted to the palace zenana and confined there till thefinal ceremonies were over.

Umballa dreamed of what he had seen.

To Ramabai was given the exalted honor of conducting the king and hisbetrothed to their respective quarters. Once in the private passagewayto the harem, or zenana, Ramabai threw caution to the winds.

"We must go a roundabout way to the garden of brides, which will bedeserted. Outside the gate Bruce Sahib and Ahmed and Lal Singh awaitwith elephants. Once we can join them we are safe. And in a month'stime I shall return."

Meantime one of the leopard keepers rushed frantically into the throneroom, exclaiming that the seven guardian leopards were at large. Evenas he spoke one of the leopards appeared in the musicians' balcony.The panic which followed was not to be described. A wild scrambleensued toward all exits.

The fugitives entered the royal zenana. Kathlyn proceeded at once tothe exit which led to the garden of brides. There she waited for herfather and Ramabai, who had paused by the door of one of the zenanachambers. Between them and Kathlyn lay the plunge.

Ramabai addressed the lady of the zenana, telling her that if guardsshould come to state that Kathlyn was concealed in her own chamber. Tothis the young woman readily agreed.

Suddenly a leopard appeared behind the colonel and Ramabai. Kathlyn,being first to discover the presence of the animal, cried out a warning.

"Fly, Kit! Save yourself! I am accursed!" called the colonel.

Ramabai and the young woman at the chamber door hurriedly drew thecolonel into the chamber and shut the door. The colonel struggled, butRamabai held him tightly.

"We are unarmed, Sahib," he said; "and the Mem-sahib never loses herhead."

"Ramabai, I tell you I shall die here. It is useless to attempt to aidme. I am accursed, accursed! Kit, Kit!"

The leopard stood undecided before the door which had closed in hisface. Then he discovered Kathlyn, fumbling at the wicker door at thefar side of the swimming pool. There was something upon which to wreakhis temper; for all this unusual commotion and freedom had disturbedhim greatly. Kathlyn opened the wicker door, closing it behind her.Clear headed, as Ramabai had said, she recollected the palanquin whichhad been last to enter the garden of brides. She ran into the garden,flew to the palanquin just as she heard the leopard crash through theflimsy wicker door. She reached and entered the palanquin not a momenttoo soon. She huddled down close to the door. The leopard trottedround and round, snarling and sniffing. Presently he was joined byanother. From afar she could hear shouting. She readily understood.Through some carelessness the leopards of the treasury were at liberty,and that of her own and her father was in jeopardy. Just without thegarden of brides was Bruce and help, and she dared not move!

Bruce, from his howdah, heard the noise in the palace; female shrieks,commands, a shot from a musket. What in heaven's name had happened?Where was Kathlyn? Why did she not appear? He fingered his revolvers.But Ahmed signaled to him not to stir. The knowledge of whatever hadhappened must be brought to them; on their lives they dared not go insearch of it.

"This comes from your damnable oriental way of doing things. If I hadhad my way, Umballa would be dead and buried."

"All in good time, Sahib."

The elephants stirred restlessly, for they scented the cat whom theyhated.

Within the palanquin Kathlyn dared scarcely to breathe; for outsideseven leopards prowled and sniffed and snarled!

CHAPTER XV

THE SEVEN LEOPARDS

Crouched in the palanquin Kathlyn waited for the onslaught of theleopards. Once she heard a tremendous scratching at the rear of herhiding-place; the palanquin tottered. But the animal was not trying toget inside; he was merely sharpening his claws after the manner of hiskind, claws which were sharp enough, heaven knew, since, regularly,once a month the keepers filed them to needle-points.

An elephant trumpeted near by, and Kathlyn could have wept in despair.Outside the wall were friends, doubtless by this time joined by herfather and Ramabai, and all wondering where she was. She dared notcall out for fear of attracting the leopards, whose movements she couldhear constantly: the jar of their padded feet as they trotted under andabout the palanquin, the sniff-sniff of their wet noses, an occasionalyawning.

By and by her curiosity could not be withstood, even though she mightbe courting death. Cautiously and soundlessly she moved the curtainwhich faced the wall. A mass of heavy vines ran from the ground to thetop of this wall. If only she could reach it; if only she dared try!Presently the keepers, armed with goads and ropes, would beforthcoming, and all hope of flight banished. Umballa, upon closeinspection, would recognize her despite her darkened skin and Indiandress.

From the other window she peered. There, in the path, were twoleopards, boxing and frolicking in play. As she watched, alwaysinterested in the gambols of such animals, she noticed that two otherleopards left off prowling, approached, sat upon their haunches, andcritically followed the friendly set-to. Then the other three, seekingdiversity, sauntered into view. Kathlyn quickened with life and hope.The seven leopards were at least half a dozen yards away. It was but astep to the vines sprawling over the wall.

To think that all depended upon the handle of the palanquin door! Ifit opened without noise there was a chance. If it creaked she waslost; for she would fall into the hands of the keepers if not under themerciless paws of the cats.

But the longer she hesitated the less time she would have. Bravely,then, she tried her hand upon the door handle and slowly but firmlyturned it. There was no sound that she could hear. She pressed itoutward with a slow steady movement. Fortunately the dress of theHindu was short, somewhat above the ankles, and within her strong youngbody was free of those modern contrivances known as corsets and stays.

She sprang out, dashed for the vines and drew herself up rapidly. Inunison the seven leopards whirled and flew at her. But the half adozen yards which they had first to cover to reach the wall saved her.Up, up, desperately, wildly, with a nervous energy which did far morefor her than her natural strength. The cats leaped and snarled at herheels. She went on. Beneath her the leopards tore at the vines andtried to follow, one succeeding in tearing her skirt with a desperateslash of his paw. He lost his hold and tumbled back among his mates.

But every minute the vines, sturdy as they were, threatened to cometumbling to the ground.

Her long and lonely experiences in the jungle had taught her the needof climbing quickly yet lightly. She flung herself across the top ofthe wall, exhausted. For the time being, at least, she was safe. Shehung there for a few minutes till she had fully recovered her breath.Below the leopards were still leaping and striking futilely! and evenin her terror she could not but admire their grace and beauty. And,oddly, she recalled the pet at home. Doubtless by this time he hadfallen back into his savage state.

When she dared risk it she gained a securer position on the wall andsat up, flinging her legs over the side of it. She saw things in a bitof blur at first, her heart had been called upon so strenuously; butafter a little objects resumed their real shapes, and she espied thetwo elephants. She called, waving her hands.

"It is Kathlyn!" cried Bruce.

"Kit!" shouted the colonel, who shared the howdah with Bruce. "Kit,hang on for a moment longer! Ahmed, to the wall!"

The colonel and Ramabai had left the zenana by one of the windowsoverlooking the passage which ran past the garden of brides. They hadhad no trouble whatever in reaching the elephants. But the subsequentwaiting for Kathlyn had keyed them all up to the breaking point. Thepity of it was, they dared not stir, dared not start in search of her.Had it been leopards only, Bruce would have made short work of it; butit would have been rank folly to have gone in search of the girl. Ifshe had been made captive, she needed their freedom to gain her own.Besides, the council of both Ahmed and Lal Singh was for patience.

Ahmed had the greatest faith in the world in Kathlyn's ability to takecare of herself. Think of what she had already gone through unscathed!Kathlyn Mem-sahib bore a charmed life, and all the wild beasts of thejungles of Hind could not harm her. It was written.

And then Bruce discovered her upon the wall. It took but a moment tobring the elephant alongside; and Kathlyn dropped down into the howdah.

"A narrow squeak, dad," was all she said.

"Let us get on our way," said the colonel hoarsely. "And remember,shoot to kill any man who attempts to stop us. My Kit!" embracingKathlyn. "Perhaps the escape of the leopards is the luckiest thingthat could have happened. It will keep them all busy for an hour ormore. Since Umballa believes you to be dead, he will be concernedabout my disappearance only. And it will be some time ere they learnof my escape. Forward, Ahmed! This time…"

"Don't, father!" interrupted Kathlyn. "Perhaps we shall escape, butnone of us is sure. Let us merely hope. I'm so tired!"

Bruce reached over and pressed her hand reassuringly; and the coloneleyed him as from a new angle.

"Good!" he murmured under his breath; "nothing better could happen. Heis a man, and a tried one, I know. Good! If once we get clear of thishell, I shall not stand in their way. But Winnie, Winnie; what inGod's name will that kitten be doing all these terrible weeks? Willshe try to find us? The first telegraph office we reach I must cableher under no circ*mstances to stir from home. Ahmed," he said aloud,"how far are we from the nearest telegraph station?"

"Three days, Sahib."

"Shall we be obliged to stop at the gate to change our mounts?"

"No, Sahib; only to take supplies enough to last us."

"Lose as little time as you can. Now drop the curtains, Bruce."

So through the streets they hurried, unmolested. Those who saw thecurtained howdah took it for granted that some unsuccessful candidatewas returning to her home.

It was well for Kathlyn that she had made up her mind to leap for thevines at the moment she did. For the elephants had not left the firstturn in the street when keepers and soldiers came running pell-mellinto the street with ropes and ladders, prepared for the recapture ofthe treasury leopards, which, of course, were looked upon as sacred.

At the ancient gate the fugitives paused for the supplies awaitingthem. Ahmed was not known to the guards there; that was good fortune.In the dialect he jested with them, winked and nodded toward thecurtained howdah. The guards laughed; they understood. Somedisappointed houri was returning whence she had come. Ahmed took histime; he had no reason to hurry. Nothing must pass which would arousethe suspicions of the guards; and haste always alarmed the Oriental.

To the colonel, however, things appeared to lag unnecessarily. Hefinally lost patience and swept back the curtain despite Bruce'srestraining hand. A native mahout, who had been loitering in town thatday, recognized at once the royal turban which the colonel still wore.The colonel's face meant nothing; the turban, everything. The mahoutstood stock-still for a moment, not quite believing his eyes. By thistime, however, Ahmed was comfortably straddled back of his elephant'sears and was jogging along the road.

"The king!" shouted the surprised mahout to the guards, who had notseen the man or the turban.

"What king, fool?" returned the guards.

"The white king who was betrothed this day! Ai, ai! I have seen theroyal turban. It is he!"

The guards derided him. So, finding no hope in them, he ran to hiselephant, mounted and rode back into town. Durga Ram would pay wellfor this news.

"Father," said Kathlyn reproachfully, "that mahout recognized you. Iwarned you not to move the curtain."

Bruce shrugged.

"But, Kit," returned her father, "Ahmed was so infernally slow! Hecould spend time in chattering to the guards."

Ahmed heard, but said nothing.

"Never mind," interposed Bruce pacifically. "At any rate we shall havethe advantage of a couple of hours, and Umballa will not catch us withthe elephants he has at hand. By the time he starts his expedition weshall be thirty miles away. Let us be cheerful!"

"Kit," said her father, "I couldn't help it. I can't think quickly anymore. I am like a man in a nightmare. I've been down to hell, and Ican't just yet realize that I am out of it. I'm sorry!"

"Poor dad!" Kathlyn pressed him in her arms, while Bruce noddedenviously but approvingly.

By and by they drew aside the curtains. Kathlyn saw here and thereobjects which recalled her first journey along this highway. If onlyshe had known!

"One thing is forecast," said Bruce. "When Ramabai returns it will beto fight. He will not be able to avoid it now. I shouldn't mind goingback with him. Ahmed, what is this strange hold Umballa has over theactions of the Council of Three? They always appear to be afraid ofhim."

"Ah, Sahib," said Ahmed, resting his ankus or goad on the skull of hismount, "there is said to be another prisoner in the palace prison. LalSingh knows, I believe."

"What's your idea?"

"Sahib, when I put you all safe over the frontier I am coming back toAllaha to find out." And that was all Ahmed would say regarding thesubject.

"I'll wager he knows," whispered Bruce.

"But who can it be? Another poor devil of a white man? Yet how coulda white man influence the actions of the council?" The colonel spokeirritably.

"Look!"—from Kathlyn; "there is one of those wonderful trees they callthe flame of the jungle." She called their attention to the treemerely to cause a diversion. She wanted to keep her father's thoughtsaway from Allaha.

So they journeyed on into the sunset, into twilight, into the brightstarry night.

Back in the city the panic was already being forgot as a thing of thepast. The leopards were back at their patrolling; the high officialsand dignitaries, together with the unsuccessful candidates, had gonetheir several ways. Umballa alone paced the halls, well satisfied withthe events of the day, barring the disturbance caused by the escape ofthe leopards.

His captain entered and saluted.

"Highness, a mahout has news."

"News? Of what?"

"He claims that he saw the king's turban in a howdah which passed theancient gate about an hour gone."

"That is not possible," replied Umballa.

"I told him that the king was in his chamber."

"So he is. Wait! I will go myself and see," all at once vaguelyperturbed. He was back in a very short time, furious.

"It is true! Woe to those who permitted him to escape!"

"Highness, the escape of the leopards and the confusion whichfollowed…"

"By all the gods of Hind, and 'twas you who left the door open! Youopened it for me to pass out first. Summon the council. Off with you,and give this handful of silver to the only man who has sense enough tobelieve his eyes. Hare Sahib is mine, and I will follow him into thevery house of the British Raj! Guards and elephants! And the bride tobe, what of her? Look and see. Nay, I will go with you."

Umballa found an empty chamber; the future queen was gone. More, hefound one of the women of the zenana—his favorite—bound and gaggedwith handkerchiefs. Quickly he freed her.

"Highness, the bride's face was dark like my own, but her arms were aslight as clotted cream! And she spake the tongue of the white people."

Kathlyn Hare! She lived; she had escaped the brigands; she had fooledhim! And Ramabai had played with him as a cat plays with a woundedmouse. Oh, they should see this time!

Suddenly he laughed. It echoed down the corridor, and one of thetreasury leopards roared back at the sinister sound.

"Highness!" timidly.

"Enough! I hold you blameless." He rushed from the palace.

Poor fools! Let them believe that they had escaped. There was stillthe little sister; in a short time now she would be inside the citywalls. The Colonel Sahib would return; indeed, yes. There would be nofurther difficulty regarding the filigree basket of gold and gems.Still, he would pursue them, if only for the mere sport of it. If hefailed to catch them all he had to do was to sit down and wait for themto return of their own volition.

Ramabai, however, was a menace; and Umballa wondered how he was goingto lay hold of him. While waiting for his elephants to be harnessed hesummoned the council. Ramabai's property must be confiscated andRamabai put to death. Here for the first time the council flatlyrefused to fall in with Umballa's plans. And they gave very goodreasons. Yes, Ramabai was a menace, but till the soldiery was fullypaid, to touch Ramabai would mean the bursting forth of the hidden fireand they would all be consumed.

"Open the treasury door for me, then!"

"We dare not. The keepers understand. They would loose the leopards,which we dare not shoot. The law…"

"What is the law to us?" demanded Umballa frankly. "Let us make lawsto suit our needs. The white man does. And we need money; we need oneanother," pointing a finger suggestively toward the floor.

"Only when we have the troops," replied the council firmly. "We havebent our heads to your will so far in everything, but we refuse tosacrifice these heads because of a personal spite against Ramabai, whomwe frankly and wisely fear. We dare not break into the treasury. Thekeepers are unbribable; the priests are with them, and the people arewith the priests. Bring back the white man and his daughter. If thatis impossible, marry this second daughter and we will crown her; andthen you may work your will upon Ramabai. You have failed in alldirections so far. Succeed but once and we are ready to follow you."

Umballa choked back the hot imperious words that crowded to his lips.These were plain unvarnished facts, and he must bow to the inevitable,however distasteful it might be. For the present then, Ramabai shouldbe permitted to go unharmed. But Ramabai might die suddenly andaccidentally in the recapture of the Colonel Sahib. An accidentaldeath would certainly extinguish any volcanic fires that smolderedunder Allaha. So, with this secret determination in mind, Umballa setforth.

Ahmed, his mind busy with a thousand things, forgot the thousand andfirst, at that stage most important of all; and this was the short cut,a mere pathway through the jungle, but which lessened the journey bysome thirty miles. And this pathway Umballa chose. The three hours'headway was thus pared down to minutes, and at the proper time Umballawould appear, not behind the pursued, but in the road in front of them.

There was, to be sure, a bare possibility of the colonel and his partygetting beyond the meeting of the path and the road, that is, if hekept going forward all through the night, which, by the way, wasexactly what the astute Ahmed did. But Kathlyn's curiosity the nextmorning neutralized the advantage gained.

A group of masked dancers, peripatetic, was the cause. Confident thatthey had outstripped pursuit, she saw no reason why she should notwitness the dancing.

How Umballa came upon them suddenly, like a thunderbolt, confiscatingthe elephants; how they fled to a near-by temple, bribed the dancersfor masks and garments, fled still farther into the wooded hills, andhid there with small arms ready, needs but little telling. Umballareturned to the city satisfied. He had at least deprived them of theirmeans of travel. Sooner or later they would founder in the jungle,hear of the arrival of the younger daughter and return.

Ahmed was grave. Lal Singh had gone. Now that the expedition hadpractically failed, his place was back in the shoe shop in the bazaars.Yes, Ahmed was grave. He was also a trifle disheartened. The fakirhad said that there would be many disappointments, but that in theend… He might be a liar like all the other Hindus. Yet one part ofhis foretelling was correct: many disappointments.

"Kit," said her father, "Ahmed warned you not to stop."

"I am sorry."

It was on the tip of her tongue to retort that his own carelessness wasthe basic cause of the pursuit; but she remembered in time what herfather had been through.

"There is a village not far," reminded Ahmed. "They are a friendlypeople. It is quite possible, with the money we have, to buy somehorses, small but sturdy. But there is one thing I do not understand,Sahib."

"And what is that?" asked the colonel.

"The readiness with which Umballa gave up the pursuit. It's a longwalk; let us be getting forward."

Late that afternoon they were all mounted once more, on strongtractable ponies, with water and provisions. And the spirits of allrose accordingly. Even Ahmed became cheerful.

"We'll make it, please God!" said the colonel. "Give me a telegraphoffice. That's all I need just now."

"Two days, Sahib," said Ahmed, "we will reach the sea."

They rode all through the night, stopping only at dawn for breakfastand a cat nap after. Then forward again till they came upon a hunter'srest house, deserted. Here they agreed to spend the night. Beyond therest house were half a dozen scattered mud huts, occupied by nativeswho pretended friendliness, lulling even the keen Ahmed into a sense ofsecurity. But at dawn, when they awoke cheerfully to pick up thetrail, they found their horses and provisions gone.

The colonel, Bruce and Ahmed, still armed, never having permitted therifles out of their keeping, set out grimly in pursuit of the thieves,while Kathlyn proceeded to forage on her own initiative.

She came presently upon a magnificent ravine, half a mile in depth.There was a broad ledge some fifteen feet below. It was evidently usedas a goat path, for near at hand stood a shepherd's hut. Stirred bythe spirit of investigation, she made preparations for descent byattaching the rope she had brought along to a stout boulder.

Panthers!

They were coming up the pathway behind her. It would be simple enoughto descend; but how to get back to the rest house? There was no timeto plan; she must act at once. She must drop down to the ledge andtrust to her star.

She called out loudly as she swung downward. The shepherd came runningout of his hut, dumfounded at what he saw.

CHAPTER XVI

THE RED WOLF

With the assistance of the shepherd Kathlyn went down the rope agilelyand safely. Once firmly on her feet, she turned to thank the wild-eyedhillman. But her best Hindustani (and she was able to speak andunderstand quite a little by now) fell on ears which heard but did notsense what she said. The man, mild and harmless enough, for all hiswild eyes, shrank back, for no woman of his kind had ever looked likethis. Kathlyn, with a deal of foreboding, repeated the phrase, andasked the way back to the hunter's rest house. He shook his head; heunderstood nothing.

But there is one language which is universal the world over, and thisis sign language. Kathlyn quickly stooped and drew in the dust theshape of the rest house. Then she pointed in the direction from whenceshe had come. He smiled and nodded excitedly. He understood now.Next, being unarmed, she felt the need of some sort of weapon. So shedrew the shape of a rifle in the dust, then produced four rupees, allshe had. The shepherd gurgled delightedly, ran into the hut, andreturned with a rifle of modern make and a belt of cartridges. With agesture he signified that it was useless to him because he did not knowhow to use it.

He took the rupees and Kathlyn took the rifle, vaguely wondering how itcame into the possession of this poverty-stricken hillman. Of onething she was certain; it had become his either through violence of hisown or of others. She examined the breech and found a dead shell,which she cast out. The rifle carried six cartridges, and she loadedskillfully, much to the astonishment of the hillman. Then she swungthe butt to her shoulder and fired up at the ledge where the panthershad last been seen.

The hillman cried out in alarm and scuttled away to his hut. When hepeered forth again Kathlyn made a friendly gesture, and he approachedtimidly. Once more she pointed to the dust, at the picture of the resthouse; and then, by many stabs of his finger in the air, he succeededin making the way back sufficiently clear to Kathlyn, who smiled,shouldered the rifle and strode confidently down the winding path; butalso she was alert and watchful.

There was not a bit of rust on the rifle, and the fact that one bullethad sped smoothly convinced her that the weapon was serviceable. Somecareful hunter had once possessed it, for it was abundantly oiled. Towhom had it belonged? It was of German make; but that signifiednothing. It might have belonged to an Englishman, a Frenchman, or aRussian; more likely the latter, since this was one of the localitieswhere they crossed and recrossed with their note-books to be utilizedagainst that day when the Bear dropped down from the north and tackledthe Lion.

Kathlyn had to go down to the very bottom of the ravine. She mustfollow the goat path, no matter where it wound, for this ultimatelywould lead her to the rest house. As she started up the final incline,through the cedars and pines, she heard the bark of the wolf, the redwolf who hunted in packs of twenty or thirty, in reality far moremenacing than a tiger or a panther, since no hunter could kill a wholepack.

To this wolf, when hunting his kill, the tiger gave wide berth; thebear took to his cave, and all fleet-footed things of the jungles fledin panic.

Kathlyn climbed as rapidly as she could. She dared not mount a tree,for the red wolf would outwit her. She must go on. The bark, or yelp,had been a signal; but now there came to her ears the long howl. Shehad heard it often in the great forests at home. It was the call ofthe pack that there was to be a kill. She might shoot half a dozen ofthem, and the living rend the dead, but the main pack would follow onand overtake her.

She swung on upward, catching a sapling here, a limb there, pullingherself over hard bits of going. Once she turned and fired a chanceshot in the direction of the howling. Far away came the roar of one ofthe mountain lions; and the pack of red wolves became suddenly andmagically silent. Kathlyn made good use of this interval. Butpresently the pack raised its howl again, and she knew that the grimstruggle was about to begin.

She reached the door of the rest house just as the pack, a large one,came into view, heads down, tails streaming. Pundita, who was at thefire preparing the noon meal, seized Kathlyn by the arm and hurried herinto the house, barricading the door. The wolves, arriving, flungthemselves against it savagely. But the door was stout, and only abattering-ram in human hands could have made it yield.

Unfortunately, there was no knowing when the men-folk would return fromtheir chase of the horses, nor how long the wolves would lay siege.The two women tried shooting, though Pundita was the veriest tyro,being more frightened at the weapon in her hands than at the howlinganimals outside. They did little or no damage to the wolves, for theavailable cracks were not at sufficiently good angles. An hour wentby, Kathlyn could hear the wolves as they crowded against the door,sniffing the sill.

The colonel, Bruce, Ramabai and Ahmed had found the horses half a dozenmiles away; and they had thrashed the thieving natives soundly andinstilled the right kind of fear in their breasts. At rifle point theyhad forced the natives back to the rest house. The crack of theirrifles soon announced to Kathlyn that the dread of wolves was a thingof the past. She wisely refrained from recounting her experiences.The men had worry enough.

After a hasty meal the journey toward the sea-port began in earnest.Umballa's attack had thrown them far out of the regular track. Theywere now compelled to make a wide detour. Where the journey might havebeen made in three days, they would be lucky now if they reached thesea under five. The men took turns in standing watch whenever theymade camp, and Kathlyn nor Pundita had time for idleness. They hadlearned their lessons; no more carelessness, nothing but the sharpestvigilance from now on.

One day, as the pony caravan made a turn round a ragged promontory,they suddenly paused. Perhaps twenty miles to the west lay the emeraldtinted Persian Gulf. The colonel slipped off his horse, draggedKathlyn from hers, and began to execute a hornpipe. He was like a boy.

"The sea, Kit, the sea! Home and Winnie; out of this devil's cauldron!You will come along with us, Bruce?"

"I haven't anything else to do," Bruce smiled back.

Then he gazed at Kathlyn, who found herself suddenly filled withstrange embarrassment. In times of danger sham and subterfuge have noplace. Heretofore she had met Bruce as a man, to whom a glance fromher eyes had told her secret. Now that the door to civilization laybut a few miles away, the old conventions dropped their obscuringmantles over her, and she felt ashamed. And there was not a littledoubt. Perhaps she had mistaken the look in his eyes, back there inthe desert, back in the first day when they had fled together from theordeals. And yet… !

On his part, Bruce did not particularly welcome the sea. There mightbe another man somewhere. No woman so beautiful as Kathlyn couldpossibly be without suitors. And when the journey down to the sea wasresumed he became taciturn and moody, and Kathlyn's heartcorrespondingly heavy.

The colonel was quite oblivious to this change. He swung his legs freeof the primitive stirrups and whistled the airs which had been popularin America at the time of his departure.

There was no lightness in the expressions of Ramabai and Pundita. Theywere about to lose these white people forever, and they had grown tolove, nay, worship them. More, they must return to face they knew notwhat.

As for Ahmed, he displayed his orientalism by appearing unconcerned.He had made up his mind not to return to America with his master.There was much to do in Allaha, and the spirit of intrigue had laidfirm hold of him. He wanted to be near at hand when Ramabai struck hisblow. He would break the news to the Colonel Sahib before they sailed.

It was four o'clock when the caravan entered the little seaport town.A few tramp steamers lay anchored in the offing. A British flagdrooped from the stem of one of them. This meant Bombay; and Bombay,in turn, meant Suez, the Mediterranean and the broad Atlantic.

The air was still and hot, for the Indian summer was now beginning tolay its burning hand upon this great peninsula. The pale dust, thewhite stucco of the buildings, blinded the eyes.

They proceeded at once to the single hotel, where they found plenty ofaccommodation. Then the colonel hurried off to the cable office andwired Winnie. Next he ascertained that the British ship Simla wouldweigh anchor the following evening for Bombay; that there they couldpick up the Delhi, bound for England. There was nothing further todo but wait for the answer to the colonel's cable to Winnie, whichwould arrive somewhere about noon of the next day.

And that answer struck the hearts of all of them with the coldness ofdeath. Umballa had beaten them. Winnie had sailed weeks ago forAllaha, in search of father and sister!

Ahmed spat out his betel-nut and squared his shoulders. Somehow he hadrather expected something like this. The reason for Umballa'shalf-hearted pursuit stood forth clearly.

"Sahib, it is fate," he said. "We must return at once to Allaha.Truly, the curse of that old guru sticks like the blood leeches of theBengal swamps. But as you have faith in your guru, I have faith inmine. Not a hair of our heads shall be harmed."

"I am a very miserable man, Ahmed! God has forsaken me!" The colonelspoke with stoic calm; he was more like the man Ahmed had formerlyknown.

"No, Allah has not forsaken; he has forgot us for a time." And Ahmedstrode out to make the arrangements for the return.

"Bruce," said the colonel, "it is time for you to leave us. You are aman. You have stood by us through thick and thin. I can not ask youto share any of the dangers which now confront us, perhaps moresinister than any we have yet known."

"Don't you want me?" asked Bruce quietly.

Kathlyn had gone to her room to hide her tears.

"Want you! But no!" The colonel wrung the young man's hand and turnedto go back to Kathlyn.

"Wait a moment, Colonel. Supposing I wanted to go, what then?Supposing I should say to you what I dare not yet say to your daughter,that I love her better than anything else in all this wide world; thatit will be happiness to follow wherever she goes… even unto death?"

The colonel wheeled. "Bruce, do you mean that?"

"With all my heart, sir. But please say nothing to Kathlyn till thisaffair ends, one way or the other. She might be stirred by a sense ofgratitude, and later regret it. When we get out of this—and I ratherbelieve in the prophecy of Ahmed's guru or fakir—then I'll speak. Ihave always been rather a lonely man. There's been no real goodreason. I have always desired to be loved for my own sake, and not forthe money I have."

"Money?" repeated the colonel. Never had he in any way associated thishealthy young hunter with money. Did he not make a business oftrapping and selling wild animals as he himself did? "Money! I didnot know that you had any, Bruce."

"I am the son of Roger Bruce."

"What! the man who owned nearly all of Peru and half the railroads inSouth America?"

"Yes. You see, Colonel, we are something alike. We never askquestions. It would have been far better if we had. Because I did notquestion Kathlyn when I first met her I feel half to blame for hermisfortunes. I should have told her all about Allaha and warned her tokeep out of it. I should have advised her to send nativeinvestigators, she to remain in Peshawur till she learned the truth.But the name Hare suggested nothing to me, not till after I had lefther at Singapore. So I shall go back with you. But please let Kathlyncontinue to think of me as a man who earns his own living."

"God bless you, my boy! You have put a new backbone in me. It's hardnot to have a white man to talk to, to plan with. Ahmed expects thatwe shall be ready for the return in the morning. He, however, intendsto go back on a racing camel, to go straight to my bungalow, if itisn't destroyed by this time. Perhaps Winnie has not arrived thereyet. I trust Ahmed."

"So do I. I have known him for a long time—that is, I thought Idid—and during the last few weeks he has been a revelation. Think ofhis being your head man all these years, and yet steadily working forhis Raj, the British Raj."

"They can keep secrets."

"Well, we have this satisfaction: when Pundita rules it will be underthe protecting hand of England. Now let us try to look at the cheerfulside of the business. Think of what that girl has gone through withscarcely a scratch! Can't you read something in that? See how strongand self-reliant she has become under such misfortunes as would havedriven mad any ordinary woman! Can't you see light in all this? Itell you, there is good and evil working for and against us, and thatAhmed's fakir will in the end prove stronger than your bally old guru.When I am out of the Orient I laugh at such things, but I can't laughat them somehow when I'm in India."

"Nor I."

That night Kathlyn signified that she wished to go down to the beachbeyond the harbor basin. Bruce accompanied her. Often he caught herstaring out at the twinkling lights on board the Simla. By and by theycould hear the windlass creaking. A volume of black smoke suddenlypoured from the boat's slanting funnel. The ship was putting out tosea.

"Why do you risk your life for us?" she asked suddenly.

"Adventure is meat and drink to me, Miss Hare."

The prefix sounded strange and unfamiliar in her ears. Formality. Shehad been wrong, then; only comradeship and the masculine sense ofresponsibility. Her heart was like lead.

"It is very kind and brave of you, Mr. Bruce; but I will not have it."

"Have what?" he asked, knowing full well what she meant.

"This going back with us. Why should you risk your life for people whoare almost strangers?"

"Strangers?" He laughed softly. "Has it never occurred to you thatthe people we grow up with are never really our friends; that realfriendship comes only with maturity of the mind? Why, the best manfriend I have in this world is a young chap I met but three years ago.It is not the knowing of people that makes friendships. It is thesharing of dangers, of bread, in the wilderness; of getting a glimpseof the soul which lies beneath the conventions of the social pact.Would you call me a stranger?"

"Oh, no!" she cried swiftly. "It is merely that I do not want you torisk your life any further for us. Is there no way I can dissuade you?"

"None that I can think of. I am going back with you. That's settled.Now let us talk of something else. Don't you really want me to go?"

"Ah, that isn't fair," looking out to sea again and following thelights aboard the Simla.

It was mighty hard for him not to sweep her into his arms then andthere. But he would never be sure of her till she was free of thiscountry, free of the sense of gratitude, free to weigh her sentimentscarefully and unbiasedly. He sat down abruptly on the wreck of anancient hull embedded in the sand. She sank down a little way from him.

He began to tell her some of his past exploits: the Amazon, theOrinoco, the Andes, Tibet and China; of the strange flotsam and jetsamhe had met in his travels. But she sensed only the sound of his voiceand the desire to reach out her hand and touch his. Friendship! Breadin the wilderness!

Ahmed was lean and deceptive to the eye. Like many Hindus, he appearedanemic; and yet the burdens the man could put on his back and carryalmost indefinitely would have killed many a white man who boasted ofhis strength. On half a loaf of black bread and a soldier's canteen ofwater he could travel for two days. He could go without sleep forforty-eight hours, and when he slept he could sleep anywhere, on themoment.

Filling his saddle-bags with three days' rations, two canteens ofwater, he set off on a hagin, or racing camel, for Allaha, threehundred miles inland as the crow flies. It was his intention to ridestraight down to the desert and across this to Colonel Hare's camp, ifsuch a thing now existed. A dromedary in good condition can make fromsixty to eighty miles a day; and the beast Ahmed had engaged was ofArab blood. In four days he expected to reach the camp. If Winnie hadnot yet arrived, he would take the road, meet her, warn her of thedangers which she was about to face, and convey her to the sea-port.If it was too late, he would send the camel back with a trustedmessenger to the colonel, to advise him.

They watched him depart in a cloud of dust, and then played the mostenervating game in existence—that of waiting; for they had decided towait till they heard from Ahmed before they moved.

Four nights later, when Ahmed arrived at the bungalow, he foundconditions as usual. For reasons best known to himself Umballa had notdisturbed anything. In fact, he had always had the coming of theyounger sister in mind and left the bungalow and camp untouched, so asnot to alarm her.

She had not yet arrived. So Ahmed flung himself down upon his cottonrug, telling the keepers not to disturb him; he would be able to wakehimself when the time came. But Ahmed had overrated his powers; he wasgetting along in years; and it was noon of the next day when a handshook him by the shoulder and he awoke to witness the arrival of Winnieand her woman companion.

For the first time in many years Ahmed cursed his prophet. He that hadhad time to warn the child, had slept like the sloth of Ceylon!

He went directly to the point. He told her briefly what had happened.He had not the least doubt that Umballa was already aware of herarrival. She must remain hidden in the go-down of the bungalow; hermaid also. That night, if Umballa or his men failed to appear, hewould lead her off to safety. But there was no hope of stealing awayin the daytime. In his heart, however, he entertained no hope; andlike the good general he was, he despatched the messenger and camel tothe sea. The father and daughter were fated to return.

Ahmed had reckoned shrewdly. Umballa appeared later in the day anddemanded the daughter of Colonel Hare. Backed as he was by numeroussoldiers, Ahmed resigned himself to the inevitable. They found Winnieand her maid (whom later they sent to the frontier and abandoned) andtook them to the palace.

There was no weeping or wailing or struggling. The dark proud face ofthe young girl gave forth no sign of the terror and utter loneliness ofher position. And Umballa realized that it was in the blood of thesechildren to be brave and quiet. There was no mercy in his heart. Hewas power mad and gold mad, and his enemies lived because he couldreach neither of his desires over their dead bodies.

The rigmarole and mummery Winnie went through affected her exactly asit had affected her sister. It was all a hideous nightmare, and at anymoment she expected to wake up in her cozy corner at Edendale.

In the bazaars they began to laugh at Umballa and his coronations, ordurbars. They began to jest at his futile efforts to crown some onethrough whom he could put his greedy hand into the treasury. Still,they found plenty of amusem*nt and excitement. And so they filled thesquare in front of the platform when Umballa put the crown on Winnie'shead. How long would this queen last?

And Kathlyn, her father and Bruce were forced to witness the event frombehind the cordon of guards, dressed in native costume, their facesstained and their hearts swelling with impotent anger and despair. Forit was in such guise they had returned to Allaha.

During a lull in the ceremonies a resonant voice from out the densethrone cried, "Give us a queen of our blood and race, thou black,gutter born dog!"

Ramabai started at the sound of that voice, but caught himself beforehe looked in the direction from whence it rose. It belonged to one LalSingh.

Umballa scowled, but gave no other sign that he heard. But a guarddove into the crowd; uselessly, however.

Kathlyn touched Ramabai's arm.

"Oh, I must speak to her!"

"Be careful, Mem-sahib!" he warned.

But even as she spoke she stepped past him, toward her beloved sister,and offered the flowers she held.

Winnie, not dreaming that this dark veiled creature was her sister,smelled the flowers and beheld a card which had writing on it—English!

"Courage! Father and I have a plan for your escape. Kathlyn."

CHAPTER XVII

LORD OF THE WORLD

Umballa began to go about cheerfully. He no longer doubted his star.Gutter born, was he? A rat from the streets? Very well; there wererats and rats, and some bit so deep that people died of it. Hesometimes doubted the advisability of permitting Colonel Hare's headman Ahmed to roam about; the rascal might in the end prove too sharp.Still it was not a bad idea to let Ahmed believe that he walked insecurity. All Umballa wanted was the colonel, Kathlyn and the younghunter, Bruce. It would be Ahmed, grown careless, who would eventuallylead him or his spies to the hiding-place.

That the trio were in the city Umballa did not doubt in the least, northat they were already scheming to liberate the younger sister. Allhis enemies where he could put his hand on them!

Cheerful was the word.

The crust of civilization was thin; the true savage was cracking outthrough it. In the days of the Mutiny Umballa would have been the NanaSahib's right hand. He would have given the tragedy at Cawnpur anextra touch.

Ten thousand rupees did not go far among soldiers whose arrears calledfor ten times that sum. So he placed it where it promised to do themost good. It was a capital idea, this of cutting Ramabai's throatwith his own money. The lawless element among the troops was his,Umballa's; at least his long enough for the purpose he had in mind.

When the multitude round the platform dissolved and Winnie was led toher chamber in the zenana, Umballa treated himself to a beverage knownas the king's peg—a trifle composed of brandy and champagne. That hedrank to stupefaction was God's method of protecting that night aninnocent child—for Winnie was not much more than that.

Alone, dazed and terrified, she dropped down upon the cushions andcried herself to sleep—exactly as Kathlyn had done. In the morningshe awoke to find tea and food. She had heard no one enter or leave.Glancing curiously round her prison of marble and jasper and porphyry,she discovered a slip of white paper protruding through a square in thelatticed window which opened out toward the garden of brides.

Hope roused her into activity. She ran to the window and snatched thepaper eagerly. It was from Kathlyn, darling Kit. The risk with whichit had been placed in the latticed window never occurred to Winnie.

The note informed her that the woman doctor of the zenana had beensufficiently bribed to permit Kathlyn to make up like her and gainadmittance to the zenana. Winnie must complain of illness and ask forthe doctor, but not before the morning of the following day. So far asshe, Kathlyn, could learn, Winnie would be left in peace till thefestival of the car of Juggernaut. Ill, she would not be forced toattend the ceremonies, the palace would be practically deserted, andthen Kathlyn would appear.

This news plucked up Winnie's spirits considerably. Surely her fatherand Kit were brave and cunning enough to circumvent Umballa. What afrightful country! What a dreadful people! She was miserable over thetortures her father had suffered, but nevertheless she held himculpable for not telling both her and Kit all and not half a truth. Abasket of gems! She and Kit did not wish to be rich, only free andhappy. And now her own folly in coming would but add to the miseriesof her loved ones.

Ahmed had told her of the two ordeals, the black dungeon, the whipping;he had done so to convince her that she must be eternally on her guard,search carefully into any proposition laid before her, and play fortime, time, for every minute she won meant a minute nearer her ultimatefreedom. She must promise to marry Umballa, but to set her own date.

Unlike Kathlyn, who had Pundita to untangle the intricacies of thebastard Persian, Winnie had to depend wholly upon sign language; andthe inmates of the zenana did not give her the respect and attentionthey had given to Kathlyn. Kathlyn was a novelty; Winnie was not.Besides, one of them watched Winnie constantly, because the beardedscoundrel had attracted her fancy and because she hoped to enchain his.

So the note from Kathlyn did not pass unnoticed, though Winnie believedthat she was without espionage.

Kathlyn, her father, Bruce, Ramabai and Pundita met at the colonel'sbungalow, and with Ahmed's help they thrashed out the plan to rescueWinnie. Alone, the little sister would not be able to find her way outof the garden of brides. It was Kathlyn's idea to have Winnie pretendshe needed air and sunshine and a walk in the garden after the doctor'svisit. The rescue would be attempted from the walls.

Juggernaut, or Jagannath in Hindustani (meaning Lord of the World), wasan idol so hideously done in wood that the Prince of Hell would havetaken it to be the personification of a damned soul, could he haveglimpsed it in the temple at Allaha. The god's face was dark, his lipsand mouth were horribly and significantly red; his eyes were polishedemeralds, his arms were of gilt, his body was like that of a toad. Histemporal reign in Allaha was somewhere near four hundred years, and nodoubt his emerald eyes had seen a crimson trail behind his car as manyhundred times.

He was married frequently. Some poor, benighted, fanatical woman wouldpledge herself and would be considered with awe till she died. But inthese times no one flung himself under the car; nothing but the incenseof crushed flowers now followed his wake. His grin, however, was thesame as of old. Wood, paint, gilt and emeralds! Well, we enlightenedEuropeans sometimes worship these very things, though we indignantlydeny it.

Outside the temple stood the car, fantastically carved, dull withrubbed gold leaf. You could see the sockets where horrid knives hadonce glittered in the sunlight. Xerxes no doubt founded his warchariots upon this idea. The wheels, six in number, two in front andtwo on each side, were solid, broad and heavy, capable of smoothing outa corrugated winter road. The superstructure was an ornate shrine,which contained the idol on its peregrinations to the river.

About the car were the devotees, some holding the ropes, otherswatching the entrance to the temple. Presently from the temple camethe gurus or priests, bearing the idol. With much reverence theyplaced the idol within the shrine, the pilgrims took hold firmly of theropes and the car rattled and thundered on its way to the river.

Of Juggernaut and his car more anon.

The street outside the garden of brides was in reality no thoroughfare,though natives occasionally made use of it as a short cut into town.Therefore no one observed the entrance of an elephant, which stoppedclose to the wall, seemingly to melt into the drab of it. On his back,however, the howdah was conspicuous. Behind the curtains Kathlynpatiently waited. She was about to turn away in despair when throughthe wicker gate she saw Winnie, attended by one of the zenana girls,enter the garden. It seemed as if her will reached out to bring Winnieto the wall and to hold the other young woman where she was.

But the two sat in the center of the garden, the thoughts of each faraway. The attendant felt no worry in bringing Winnie into the garden.A cry from her lips would bring a dozen guards and eunuchs from thepalace. And the white girl could not get out alone. More than this,she gave Winnie liberty in order to trap her if possible.

By and by the native girl pretended to feel drowsy in the heat of thesun, and her head fell forward a trifle. It was then that Winnie hearda low whistle, an old familiar whistle such as she and Kit had usedonce upon a time in playing "I spy." She sat up rigidly. It was hardwork not to cry out. Over the wall the drab trunk of an elephantprotruded, and something white fluttered into the garden.

Winnie rose. The head of the native girl came up instinctively; but asWinnie leisurely strolled toward the palace, the head sank again.Winnie turned and wandered along the walls, apparently examining theflowers and vines, but all the while moving nearer and nearer to thebit of white paper which the idle breeze stirred back and forthtentatively. When she reached the spot she stooped and plucked someflowers, gathering up the paper as she did so. And still in thestooping posture, she read the note, crumpled it and stuffed it into ahole in the wall.

Poor child! Every move had been watched as a cobra watches its prey.

She was to pretend illness at once. Plans had been changed. She stoodup, swayed slightly and staggered back to the seat. In truth, she waspale enough, and her heart beat so fast that she was horribly dizzy.

"A doctor!" she cried, forgetting that she would not be understood.

The native girl stared at her. She did not understand the words, butthe signs were enough. The young white woman looked ill; and Umballawould deal harshly with those who failed to stem the tide of anyillness which might befall his captive. There was a commotion behindthe fretwork of the palace. Three other girls came out, and Winnie wasconducted back to the zenana.

All this Kathlyn observed. She bade the mahout go to the house of thezenana's doctor, where she donned the habiliments familiar to theguards and inmates of the zenana.

Everything went forward without a hitch; so smoothly that had theobject of her visit been other than Winnie, Kathlyn must have sensedsomething unusual. She entered the palace and even led the way toWinnie's chamber—a fact which appeared natural enough to the womenabout, but which truly alarmed Umballa's spy, who immediately set offin search of the man.

One thing assured her: the hands of the zenana's real physician werebroad and muscular, while the hands she saw were slender and beautiful,brown though they were. She had seen those hands before, during theepisode of the leopards of the treasury.

It was very hard for Kathlyn to curb the wild desire to crush Winnie inher arms, arms that truly ached for the feel of her. Even as shefought this desire she could not but admire Winnie's superb acting.She and her father had misjudged this butterfly. To have come all thisway alone in search of them, unfamiliar with the customs and thelanguage of the people! How she had succeeded in getting here withoutmishap was in itself remarkable.

She took Winnie's wrist in her hand and pressed it reassuringly, thenputtered about in her medical bag. Very softly she whispered:

"I shall remain with you till dusk. Give no sign whatever that youknow me, for you will be watched. To-night I will smuggle you out ofthe palace. Take these, and soon pretend to be quieted."

Winnie swallowed the bits of sugar and lay back. Kathlyn signifiedthat she wished to be alone with her patient. Once alone with Winnie,she cast aside her veil.

"Oh, Kit!"

"Hush, baby! We are going to get you safely away."

"I am afraid."

"So are we all; but we must not let any one see that we are. Fatherand Ahmed are near by. But oh, why did you attempt to find us?"

"But you cabled me to come, weeks ago!"

"I? Never!" And the mystery was no longer a mystery to Kathlyn. Thehand of Umballa lay bare. Could they eventually win out against a manwho seemed to miss no point in the game? "You were deceived, Winnie.To think of it! We had escaped, were ready to sail for home, when welearned that you had left for India. It nearly broke our hearts."

"What ever shall we do, Kit?" Winnie flung her arms round her sisterand drew her down. "My Kit!"

"We must be brave whatever happens."

"And am I not your sister?" quietly. "Do you believe in me so little?Why shouldn't I be brave? But you've always treated me like a baby;you never tried to prove me."

Kathlyn's arms wound themselves tightly about the slender form.…And thus Umballa found them.

"Very touching!" he said, standing with his back to the door. "Butnicely trapped!" He laughed as Kathlyn sprang to her feet, as her handsought the dagger at her side. "Don't draw it," he said. "I mighthurt your arm in wrenching it away from you. Poor little fool! Backinto the cage, like a homing pigeon! Had I not known you all wouldreturn, think you I would have given up the chase so easily? You wouldnot bend, so then you must break. The god Juggernaut yearns for asacrifice to prove that we still love and worship him. You spurned mylove; now you shall know my hate. You shall die, unpleasantly."

Quickly as a cat springs he caught her hands and wrenched them towardhim, dragging her toward the door. Winnie sprang up from the cushions,her eyes ablaze with the fighting spirit. Too soon the door closed inher face and she heard the bolt outside go slithering home.

Said Umballa from the corridor: "To you, pretty kitten, I shall comelater. I need you for my wife. When I return you will be all alone inthe world, truly an orphan. And do not make your eyes red needlessly."

Winnie screamed, and Kathlyn fought with the fury of a netted tigress.For a few minutes Umballa had his hands full, but in the end heconquered.

Outside the garden of brides three men waited in vain for the coming ofKathlyn and her sister.

The god Juggernaut did not repose in his accustomed niche in the templethat night. The car had to be pulled up and down a steep hill, and onthe return, owing to the darkness, it was left at the top of the hill,safely propped to prevent its rolling down of its own accord. When themoon rose Juggernaut's eyes gleamed like the striped cat's. Long sincehe had seen a human sacrifice. Perhaps the old days would return oncemore. He was weary at heart riding over sickly flowers; he wantedflesh and bones and the music of the death-rattle. His cousins, Warand Pestilence, still took their tithes. Why should he be denied?

The whispering became a murmuring, and the murmuring grew intoexcitable chattering; and by ten o'clock that night all the bazaarsknew that the ancient rites of Juggernaut were to be revived thatnight. The bazaars had never heard of Nero, called Ahenobarbus, andbeing without companions, they missed the greatness of their august buthampered regent Umballa.

Always the bazaars heard news before any other part of the city. Thewhite Mem-sahib was not dead, but had been recaptured while posing asthe zenana physician in an attempt to rescue her sister, the new queen.Oh, the chief city of Allaha was in the matter of choice and unexpectedamusem*nts unrivaled in all Asia.

Yes, Umballa was not unlike Nero—to keep the populace amused so theywould temporarily forget their burdens.

But why the sudden appearance of soldiers, who stood guard at everyexit, compelling the inmates of the bazaars not to leave their houses?Ai, ai! Why this secrecy, since they knew what was going to takeplace? But the soldiers, ordinarily voluble, maintained grim silence,and even went so far as to extend the bayonet to all those who tried toleave the narrow streets.

"An affair of state!" was all the natives could get in answer to theirinquiries. Men came flocking to the roofs. But the moonshine made allthings ghostly. The car of the god Juggernaut was visible, but whatlay in its path could not be seen.

Umballa was not popular that night. But this was a private affair.Well he knew the ingenuity and resources of his enemies at large.There would be no rescue this night. Kathlyn Mem-sahib should die;this time he determined to put fear into the hearts of the others.

Having drunk his king's peg, he was well fortified against any personalqualms. The passion he had had for Kathlyn was dead, dead as he wantedher to be.

Whom the gods destroy they first make mad; and Umballa was mad.

The palanquin waited in vain outside the wall of the garden ofbrides—waited till a ripple of the news eddied about the conveyance inthe shape of a greatly agitated Lal Singh.

"He is really going to kill her!" he panted. "He lured her to hersister's side, then captured her. She is to be placed beneath the carof Juggernaut within an hour. It is to be done secretly. The peopleare guarded and held in the bazaars. Ahmed, with an elephant and armedkeepers, will be here shortly. I have warned him. Umballa runs amuck!"

Suddenly they heard voices in the garden, first Umballa's, thenKathlyn's. Sinister portents to the ears of the listeners, father andlover and loyal friends. The former were for breaking into the gardenthen and there; but a glance through the wicket gate disclosed the factthat Umballa and Kathlyn were surrounded by fifteen or twenty soldiers.And they dared not fire at Umballa for fear of hitting Kathlyn.

The palanquin was lastly carried out of sight.

At the end of the passage or street nearest the town was a gate thatwas seldom closed. Through this one had to pass to and from the city.Going through this gate, one could make the hill (where the car ofJuggernaut stood) within fifteen minutes, while a detour round thewalls of the ancient city would consume three-quarters of an hour.Umballa ordered the gates to be closed and stationed a guard there.The gates clanged behind him and Kathlyn. This time he was guardingevery entrance. If his enemies were within they would naturally beweak in numbers; outside, they would find it extremely difficult tomake an entrance. More than this, he had sent a troop toward thecolonel's camp.

The gates had scarcely been closed when Ahmed, his elephant and hisarmed keepers came into view. The men sent Pundita back to camp, andthe actual warfare began. They approached the gate, demanding to beallowed to pass. The soldiers refused. Instantly the keepers flungthemselves furiously upon the soldiers. The trooper who held the keythrew it over the wall just before he was overpowered. But Ahmed hadcome prepared. From out the howdah he took a heavy leather pad, whichhe adjusted over the fore skull of the elephant, and gave a command.

The skull of the elephant is thick. Hunters will tell you that bulletsglance off it as water from the back of a duck. Thus, protected by theleather pad, the elephant becomes a formidable battering-ram, backed bytons of weight. Only the solidity of stone may stay him.

Ahmed's elephant shouldered through the gates grandly. For all theresistance they offered that skull they might have been constructed ofpapier mache.

Through the dust they hurried. Whenever a curious native got in theway the butt of a rifle bestirred him out of it.

Umballa had lashed Kathlyn to a sapling which was laid across the pathof the car. The man was mad, stark mad, this night. Even the soldiersand the devotees surrounding the car were terrified. One did not forcesacrifices to Juggernaut. One soldier had protested, and he lay at thebottom of the hill, his skull crushed. The others, pulled one way bygreed of money and love of life, stirred no hand.

But Kathlyn Mem-sahib did not die under the broad wheels of the car ofJuggernaut. So interested in Umballa were his men that they forgot thevigilance required to conduct such a ceremony free of interruption. Acrackling of shots, a warning cry to drop their arms, the plunging ofan elephant in the path of the car, which was already thundering downthe hill, spoiled Umballa's classic.

CHAPTER XVIII

PATIENCE

While Bruce and two of his men carried Kathlyn out of harm's way to theshelter of the underbrush, where he liberated her, Ahmed drove Umballaand his panic-stricken soldiers over the brow of the hill. Umballacould be distinguished by his robes and turban, but in the moonlightAhmed and his followers were all of a color, like cats in the dark.With mad joy in his heart Ahmed could not resist propelling the furiousregent down-hill, using the butt of his rifle and pretending he did notknow who it was he was treating with these indignities. And Umballacould not tell who his assailant was because he was given noopportunity to turn.

"Soor!" Ahmed shouted. "Swine! Take that, and that, and that!"

Stumbling on, Umballa cried out in pain; but he did not ask for mercy.

"Soor! Tell your master, Durga Ram, how bites this gun butt as I shalltell mine the pleasure it gives me to administer it. Swine! Ha, youstumble! Up with you!"

Batter and bang! Doubtless Ahmed would have prolonged this delightfulentertainment to the very steps of the palace, but a full troop ofsoldiers appeared at the foot of the hill, and Ahmed saw that it wasnow his turn to take to his heels.

"Swine!" with a parting blow which sent Umballa to his knees, "tellyour master that if he harms the little Mem-sahib in the palace heshall die! Let him remember the warnings that he has received, and lethim not forget what a certain dungeon holds!"

Umballa staggered to his feet, his sight blinded with tears of pain.He was sober enough now, and Ahmed's final words rang in his ears likea cluster of bells. "What a certain dungeon holds!" Stumbling downthe hill, urged by Ahmed's blows, only one thought occupied his mind:to wreak his vengeance for these indignities upon an innocent girl.But now a new fear entered his craven soul, craven as all cruel soulsare. Some one knew!

He fell into the arms of his troopers and they carried him to a litter,thence to the palace. His back was covered with bruises, and but forthe thickness of his cumme*rbund he must have died under the beating,which had been thorough and masterly. "What a certain dungeon holds!"In his chamber Umballa called for his peg of brandy and champagne,which for some reason did not take hold as usual. For the first timein his life Durga Ram, so-called Umballa, knew what agony was. But didit cause him to think with pity of the agonies he had caused them? Notin the least.

When Ahmed rejoined his people Kathlyn was leaning against her father'sshoulder, smiling wanly.

"Where is Umballa?" cried Bruce, seizing Ahmed by the arm.

"On the way to the palace!" Ahmed laughed and told what he hadaccomplished.

Bruce raised his hands in anger.

"But, Sahib!" began Ahmed, not comprehending.

"And, having him in your hands, you let him go!"

Ahmed stood dumfounded. His jaw sagged, his rifle slipped from hishands and fell with a clank at his feet.

"You are right, Sahib. I am an unthinking fool. May Allah forgive me!"

"We could have held him as hostage, and tomorrow morning we all couldhave left Allaha free, unhindered! God forgive you, Ahmed, for notthinking!"

"In the heat of battle, Sahib, one does not always think of themorrow." But Ahmed's head fell and his chin touched his breast. Thathe, Ahmed, of the secret service, should let spite overshadowforethought and to be called to account for it! He was disgraced.

"Never mind, Ahmed," said Kathlyn kindly. "What is done is done. Wemust find safety. We shall have to hide in the jungle to-night. Andthere is my sister. You should have thought, Ahmed."

"Umballa will not harm a hair of her head," replied Ahmed, lifting hishead.

"Your work has filled his heart with venom," declared Bruce hotly.

"And my words, Sahib, have filled his veins with water," replied Ahmed,now smiling.

"What do you mean?" demanded the colonel.

"Ask Ramabai. Perhaps he will tell you."

"That," returned Ramabai, "is of less importance at this moment thanthe method to be used in liberating the daughter of Colonel Sahib.Listen. The people are angry because they were not permitted to bepresent at the sacrifice to Juggernaut. To pacify them Umballa willhave to invent some amusem*nt in the arena."

"But how will that aid us?" interrupted the colonel.

"Let us say, an exhibition of wild animals, with their trainers."

"Trainers?"

"Yes. You, Colonel Sahib, and you, Kathlyn Mem-sahib, and you, BruceSahib, will without difficulty act the parts."

"Good!" said Ahmed bitterly. "The three of them will rush into theroyal box, seize Winnie Mem-sahib, and carry her off from under thevery noses of Umballa, the council and the soldiers!"

"My friend Ahmed is bitter," replied Ramabai patiently.

"Ai, ai! I had Umballa in my hands and let him go! Pardon me,Ramabai; I am indeed bitter."

"But who will suggest this animal scheme to Umballa?" inquired Bruce.

"I." Ramabai salaamed.

"You will walk into the lion's den?"

"The jackal's," Ramabai corrected.

"God help me! If I only had a few men!" groaned the colonel, raisinghis hands to heaven.

"You will be throwing away your life uselessly, Ramabai," said Kathlyn.

"No. Umballa and I will understand each other completely."

"Ramabai," put in Ahmed, with his singular smile, "do you want a crown?"

"For myself? No, again. For my wife? That is a different matter."

"And the man in the dungeon?" ironically.

Ramabai suddenly faced the moon and stared long and silently at thebrilliant planet. In his mind there was conflict, war between rightand ambition. He seemed to have forgot those about him, waitinganxiously for him to speak.

"Ramabai," said Ahmed craftily, "at a word from you a thousand armedmen will spring into existence and within twelve hours set Pundita onyonder throne. Why do you hesitate to give the sign?"

Ramabai wheeled quickly.

"Ahmed, silence! I am yet an honorable man. You know and I know howfar I may go. Trifle with me no more."

Ahmed salaamed deeply.

"Think not badly of me, Ramabai; but I am a man of action, and it gallsme to wait."

"Are you wholly unselfish?"

It was Ahmed's turn to address mute inquiries to the moon.

"What is all this palaver about?" Bruce came in between the two menimpatiently.

"God knows!" murmured the colonel. "One thing I know, if we stand heremuch longer we'll all spend the rest of the night in prison."

There was wisdom in this. They marched away at once, following thepath of the elephant and the loyal keepers. There was no pursuit.Soldiers with purses filled with promises are not overeager to faceskilled marksmen. The colonel and his followers, not being aware ofthis indecision, proposed camping in the first spot which affordedprotection from the chill of night, not daring to make for thebungalow, certain that it was being watched. In this they were wise,for a cordon of soldiers (with something besides promises in theirpurses) surrounded the camp on the chance that its owner might hazard areturn.

"Now, Ramabai, what is your plan?" asked the colonel, as he wrappedKathlyn in the howdah blanket. "We are to pose as animal trainers.Good. What next?"

"A trap and a tunnel."

"Ah!"

"There used to be one. A part of it caved in four or five years ago.It can be reexcavated in a night. The men who do that shall be my own.Your animals will be used. To Kathlyn Mem-sahib your pet leopards willbe as play fellows. She has the eye, and the voice, and the touch.She shall be veiled to her eyes, with a bit of ocher on her forehead.Who will recognize her?"

"The sight of you, Ramabai, will cause him to suspect."

"That remains in the air. There must be luck in it."

"If Umballa can be lured to drink his pegs." Then, with an impatientgesture Ahmed added: "Folly! What! Umballa and the council will notrecognize the Colonel Sahib's hair, the Mem-sahib's golden head?"

"In the go-down of Lal Singh, the cobbler, there are many things, evenwigs and false beards," retorted Ramabai slyly.

Ahmed started, then laughed.

"You are right, Ramabai. So then we have wigs and beards. Go on." Hewas sitting cross legged and rocking back and forth.

"After the tricks are done Kathlyn Mem-sahib will throw aside her veiland stand revealed, to Umballa, to the council, to the populace."

Bruce jumped to his feet.

"Be patient, Bruce Sahib," reproved Ramabai. "I am not yet done."

Bruce sat down again, and Kathlyn stole a glance at his lean unhappyface. How she longed to touch it, to smooth away the lines of care!The old camaraderie was gone; there seemed to be some invisible barrierbetween them now.

"She will discover herself, then," proceeded Ramabai. "Umballa will atonce start to order her capture, when she shall stay him by crying thatshe is willing to face the arena lions. Remember, there will be a trapand a tunnel."

"And outside?" said Ahmed, still doubting.

"There will be soldiers, my men. But they will at that moment beelsewhere."

"If you have soldiers, then, why not slip them into the palace and havethem take the young Mem-sahib by force?"

"My men are not permitted to enter the palace, Ahmed. Umballa isafraid of them. To go on. Winnie Mem-sahib will stand up and exclaimthat she will join her sister, to prove that she is no less brave."

"But the lions!"—from Bruce. From his point of view the plan was asabsurd as it was impossible.

Ramabai, however, knew his people and Bruce did not.

"Always remember the trap and the tunnel, Bruce Sahib. At the entranceof the lions the trap will fall. Inside the tunnel will be the ColonelSahib and Bruce Sahib. Outside will be Ahmed and the brave men he hadwith him this night. And all the road free to the gates!"

"Ah, for those thousand men!" sighed Ahmed. "I can not forget them."

"Nor I the dungeon-keep," replied Ramabai. "I must go my own way. Ofthe right and wrong of it you are not concerned, Ahmed."

"By the Lord!" exclaimed the colonel, getting up. "I begin tounderstand. He is alive, and they hold him there in a den, vile likemine was. Alive!"

Ramabai nodded, but Ahmed clapped his hands exultantly.

"Umballa did not put him there. It was the politics of the council;and this is the sword which Umballa holds over their heads. And if Isummoned my thousand men their zeal for me…"

"Pardon, Ramabai!" cried Ahmed contritely. "Pardon!"

"Ah! finally you understand?"

"Yes. You are not only a good man but a great one. If you gave thesign to your men there would be no one in yonder dungeon-keep alive!"

"They know, and I could not stay the tempest once I loosed it. There,that is all. That is the battle I have fought and won."

The colonel reached down and offered his hand.

"Ramabai, you're a man."

"Thanks, Sahib. And I tell you this: I love my people. I was bornamong them. They are simple and easily led. I wish to see them happy,but I can not step over the dead body of one who was kind to me. Andthis I add: When you, my friends, are free, I will make him free also.Young men are my followers, and in the blood of the young there is muchheat. My plan may appear to you weak and absurd, but I know my people.Besides, it is our only chance."

"Well, Ramabai, we will try your plan, though I do so half heartedly.So many times have we escaped, only to be brought back. I am tired, inthe heart, in the mind, in the body. I want to lie down somewhere andsleep for days."

Kathlyn reached out, touched his hand and patted it. She knew. Thepain and terror in his heart were not born of his own miseries but oftheirs, hers and Winnie's.

"Why doesn't my brain snap?" she queried inwardly. "Why doesn't thethread break? Why can't I cry out and laugh and grow hysterical likeother women?"

"I shall take charge of everything," continued Ramabai. "Yourtribulations affect my own honor. None of you must be seen, however;not even you, Ahmed. I shall keep you informed. Ahmed will instructthe keepers to obey me. No harm will come to them, since no one canidentify them as having been Umballa's assailants. My wife will not bemolested in any way for remaining at the bungalow."

Without another word Ramabai curled himself up and went to sleep; andone by one the others followed his example. Bruce was last to closehis eyes. He glanced moodily round, noted the guards patrolling theboundaries of their secluded camp, the mahout sleeping in the shadow ofthe elephant; and then he looked down at Kathlyn. Only a bit of herforehead was exposed. One brown shapely hand clutched the howdahblanket. A patch of moonshine touched her temple. Silently he stoopedand laid a kiss upon the hand, then crept over to Ahmed and lay downwith his back to the Mohammedan's.

After a while the hand clutching the howdah blanket slid under andfinally nestled beneath the owner's chin.

But Winnie could not sleep. Every sound brought her to an uprightposition; and to-night the palace seemed charged with mysteriousnoises. The muttering of the co*ckatoo, the tinkle of the fountain asthe water fell into the basin, the scrape and slither of sandals beyondthe lattice partitions, the rattle of a gun butt somewhere in the outercorridors—these sounds she heard. Once she thought she heard thesputter of rifle shots afar, but she was not sure.

Kit, beautiful Kit! Oh, they would not, could not let her die! Andshe had come into this land with her mind aglow with fairy stories!

One of the leopards in the treasury corridors roared, and Winniecrouched into her cushions. What were they going to do to her? Forshe understood perfectly that she was only a prisoner and that thecrown meant nothing at all so far as authority was concerned. She wasindeed the veriest puppet. What with Ahmed's disclosures and Kathlyn'sadvice she knew that she was nothing more than a helpless pawn in thisoriental game of chess. At any moment she might be removed from theboard.

She became tense again. She heard the slip-slip of sandals In thecorridor, a key turn in the lock. The door opened, and in the dimlight she saw Umballa.

He stood by the door, silently contemplating her. "What a certaindungeon holds!" still eddied through the current of his thoughts.Money, money! He needed it; it was the only barrier between him andthe end, which at last he began to see. Money, baskets and bags of it,and he dared not go near. May the fires of hell burn eternally in thebones of these greedy soldiers, his only hope!

His body ached; liquid fire seemed to have taken the place of blood inhis veins. His back and shoulders were a mass of bruises. Beaten witha gun butt, driven, harried, cursed—he, Durga Ram! A gun butt in thehands of a low caste! He had not only been beaten; he had beendishonored and defiled. His eyes flashed and his fingers closedconvulsively, but he was sober. To take yonder white throat in hishands! It was true; he dared not harm a hair of her head!

"Your sister Kathlyn perished under the wheels of the car ofJuggernaut."

Winnie did not stir. The aspect of the man fascinated her as thenearness of a cobra would have done. Vipers not only crawl in thisterrible land; they walk. One stung with fangs and the other withwords.

"She is dead, and to-morrow your father dies."

The disheveled appearance of the man did not in her eyes confirm this.Indeed, the longer she gazed at him the more strongly convinced shebecame that he was lying. But wisely she maintained her silence.

"Dead," he repeated. "Within a week you shall be my wife. You know.They have told you. I want money, and by all the gods of Hind, yoursshall be the hand to give it to me. Marry me, and one week after Iwill give you means of leaving Allaha. Will you marry me?"

"Yes." The word slipped over Winnie's lips faintly. She recalledAhmed's advice: to humor the man, to play for time; but she knew thatif he touched her she must scream.

"Keep that word. Your father and sister are fools."

Winnie trembled. They were alive. Kit and her father; this man hadlied. Alive! Oh, she would not be afraid of any ordeal now. Theywere alive, and more than that they were free.

"I will keep my word when the time comes," she replied clearly.

"They are calling me Durga Ram the Mad. Beware, then, for madmen domad things."

The door opened and shut behind him, and she heard the key turn and theoutside bolt click into its socket.

They were alive and free, her loved ones! She knelt upon the cushions,her eyes uplifted.

Alone, with a torch in his shaking hand, Umballa went down into theprison, to the row of dungeons. In the door of one was a slidingpanel. He pulled this back and peered within. Something lay huddledin a corner. He drew the panel back into its place, climbed the wornsteps, extinguished the torch and proceeded to his own home, a gift ofhis former master, standing just outside the royal confines. Oncethere, he had slaves anoint his bruised back and shoulders withunguents, ordered his peg, drank it and lay down to sleep.

On the morrow he was somewhat daunted upon meeting Ramabai in thecorridor leading to the throne room, where Winnie and the council weregathered. He started to summon the guards, but the impassive face ofhis enemy and the menacing hand stayed the call.

"You are a brave man, Ramabai, to enter the lion's den in this fashion.You shall never leave here alive."

"Yes, Durga Ram. I shall depart as I came, a free man."

"You talk like that to me?" furiously.

"Even so. Shall I go out on the balcony and declare that I know what acertain dungeon holds?"

Umballa's fury vanished, and sweat oozed from his palms.

"You?"

"Yes, I know. A truce! The people are muttering and murmuring againstyou because they were forbidden to attend your especial juggernaut.Best for both of us that they be quieted and amused."

"Ramabai, you shall never wear the crown."

"I do not want it."

"Nor shall your wife."

Ramabai did not speak.

"You shall die first!"

"War or peace?" asked Ramabai.

"War."

"So be it. I shall proceed to strike the first blow."

Ramabai turned and began to walk toward the window opening out upon thebalcony; but Umballa bounded after him, realizing that Ramabai would doas he threatened, declare from the balcony what he knew.

"Wait! A truce for forty-eight hours."

"Agreed. I have a proposition to make before you and the council. Letus go in."

Before the council (startled as had Umballa been at Ramabai'sappearance) he explained his plans for the pacification and amusem*ntof the people. Umballa tried to find flaws in it; but his brain,befuddled by numerous pegs and disappointments, saw nothing. And whenRamabai produced his troupe of wild animal trainers not even Winnierecognized them. But during the argument between Umballa and thecouncil as to the date of the festivities Kathlyn raised the corner ofher veil. It was enough for Winnie. In the last few days she hadlearned self-control; and there was scarcely a sign that she saw Kitand her father, and they had the courage to come here in their effortsto rescue her!

It was finally arranged to give the exhibition the next day, andmessengers were despatched forthwith to notify the city and thebazaars. A dozen times Umballa eyed Ramabai's back, murder in his mindand fear in his heart. Blind fool that he had been not to have seenthis man in his true light and killed him! Now, if he hired assassins,he could not trust them; his purse was again empty.

Ramabai must have felt the gaze, for once he turned and caught the eyeof Umballa, approached and whispered: "Durga Ram, wherever I go I amfollowed by watchers who would die for me. Do not waste your money onhired assassins."

As the so-called animal trainers were departing Kathlyn managed to dropat Winnie's feet a little ball of paper which the young sistermaneuvered to secure without being observed. She was advised to haveno fear of the lions in the arena, to be ready to join Kathlyn in thearena when she signified the moment. Winnie would have entered a denof tigers had Kathlyn so advised her.

Matters came to pass as Ramabai had planned: the night work in thearena, the clearing of the tunnel, the making of the trap, theperfecting of all the details of escape. Ahmed would be given chargeof the exit, Lal Singh of the road, and Ali (Bruce's man) would arrangethat outside the city there should be no barriers. All because Ramabaithought more of his conscience than of his ambitions for Pundita.

And when, late in the afternoon, the exhibition was over, Kathlynstepped upon the trap, threw aside her veil and revealed herself to thespectators. For all her darkened skin they recognized her, and a deepmurmur ran round the arena. Kathlyn, knowing how volatile the peoplewere, extended her hands toward the royal box. When the murmurs diedaway she spoke in Hindustani:

"I will face the arena lions!"

The murmurs rose again, gaining such volume that they became roars,which the disturbed beasts took up and augmented.

Again Kathlyn made a sign for silence, and added: "Provided my sisterstands at my side!"

To this Umballa said no. The multitude shouted defiance. In the arenathey were masters, even as the populace in the old days of Rome weremasters of their emperors.

Winnie, comprehending that this was her cue, stepped forward in the boxand signified by gestures that she would join her sister.

The roaring began again, but this time it had the quality of cheers. Areal spectacle! To face the savage African lions unarmed! A finespectacle!

Winnie was lowered from the box, and as her feet touched the ground sheran quickly to Kathlyn's side.

"Winnie, I am standing on a trap. When it sinks be not alarmed."

"My Kit!" cried Winnie, squeezing her adored sister's hand.

The arena was cleared, and the doors to the lions' dens were opened.The great maned African lions stood for a moment blinking in thesunshine. One of them roared out his displeasure, and saw the twowomen. Then all of them loped toward what they supposed were to betheir victims.

That night in the bazaars they said that Umballa was warring in theface of the gods. The erstwhile white queen of the yellow hair wastruly a great magician. For did she not cause the earth to open up andswallow her sister and herself?

CHAPTER XIX

MAGIC

Through the tunnel, into the street, into the care of Ahmed and LalSingh, then hurriedly to the house of Ramabai. The fact that they hadto proceed to Ramabai's was a severe blow to Bruce and the colonel.They had expected all to be mounted the instant they came from thetunnel, a swift unobstructed flight to the gate and freedom. But Ahmedcould not find his elephants. Too late he learned that the mahouts hehad secretly engaged had misunderstood his instructions and hadstationed themselves near the main entrance to the arena!

The cursing and railing against fate is a futile thing, never bearingfruit: so Ramabai suggested his house till transportation could besecured. They perfectly understood that they could not remain in thehouse more than a few hours; for Umballa would surely send his meneverywhere, and quite possibly first of all to Ramabai's.

Still, Ramabai did not appear very much alarmed. There were secretstairways in his house that not even Pundita knew; and at a pinch hehad a plan by which he could turn away investigation. Only in thedirest need, though, did he intend to execute this plan. He wanted hisfriends out of Allaha without the shedding of any blood.

"Well," said Ahmed, angrily casting aside his disguise; "well, Ramabai,this is the crisis. Will you strike?"

Lal Singh's wrinkled face lighted up with eagerness.

"We are ready, Ramabai," he said.

"We?" Ramabai paused in his pacing to gaze keenly into the eyes ofthis old conspirator.

"Yes, we. For I, Lal Singh, propose to take my stand at your righthand. I have not been idle. Everywhere your friends are evincingimpatience. Ah, I know. You wish for a bloodless rebellion; but thatcan not be, not among our people. You have said that in their zealyour followers, if they knew, would sweep the poor old king out of yourpath. Listen. Shall we put him back on the throne, to perform someother mad thing like this gift of his throne to the Colonel Sahib?"

Ramabai, watched intently by the two conspirators for the British Rajand his white friends, paced back and forth, his hands behind his back,his head bent. He was a Christian; he was not only a Christian, he wasa Hindu, and the shedding of blood was doubly abhorrent to his mind.

"I am being pulled by two horses," he said.

"Act quickly," advised Ahmed; "one way or the other. Umballa willthrow his men round the whole city and there will not be a space largeenough for a rat to crawl through. And he will fight like a rat thistime; mark me."

Ramabai paused suddenly in front of his wife and smiled down at her.

"Pundita, you are my legal queen. It is for you to say what shall bedone. I had in mind a republic."

Lal Singh cackled ironically.

"Do not dream," said Ahmed. "Common sense should tell you that therecan be no republic in Allaha. There must be an absolute ruler, nothingless. Your Majesty, speak," he added, salaaming before Pundita.

She looked wildly about the room, vainly striving to read the faces ofher white friends; but their expressions were like stone images. Nohelp there, no guidance.

"Is the life of a decrepit old man," asked Lal Singh, "worth the livesof these white people who love and respect you?"

Pundita rose and placed her hands upon her husband's shoulders.

"We owe them our lives. Strike, Ramabai; but only if our need demandsit."

"Good!" said Lal Singh. "I'm off for the bazaars for the night. Iwill buy chupatties and pass them about, as they did in my father'stime at Delhi, in the Great Mutiny."

And he vanished.

Have you ever witnessed the swarming of bees? Have you ever heard thehum and buzz of them? So looked and sounded the bazaars that night.At every intersection of streets and passages there were groups,buzzing and gesticulating. In the gutters the cocoanut oil lampsflickered, throwing weird shadows upon the walls; and squatting aboutthese lamps the fruit sellers and candy sellers and cobblers andtailors jabbered and droned. Light women, with their painted faces,went abroad boldly.

And there was but one word on all these tongues: Magic!

Could any human being pass through what this white woman had? No! Shewas the reincarnation of some forgotten goddess. They knew that, andUmballa would soon bring famine and plague and death among them.Whenever they uttered his name they spat to cleanse their mouths of thedefilement.

For the present the soldiers were his; and groups of them swaggeredthrough the bazaars, chanting drunkenly and making speech with thelight women and jostling honest men into the gutters.

All these things Lal Singh saw and heard and made note of as he wentfrom house to house among the chosen and told them to hold themselvesin readiness, as the hour was near at hand. Followed the clinking ofgunlocks and the rattle of cartridges. A thousand fierce youths, readyfor anything, death or loot or the beauties of the zenanas. Forpatriotism in Southern Asia depends largely upon what treasures one maywring from it.

But how would they know the hour for the uprising? A servant wouldcall and ask for chupatties. Good. And the meeting-place? Ramabai'sgarden. It was well. They would be ready.

Flicker-flicker danced the lights; flicker-flicker went the tongues.And the peaceful oriental stars looked down serenely.

Umballa remained in the palace, burning with the fires of murder.Messenger after messenger came to report that the fugitives were stillat large. Contrary to Ahmed's expectations, Umballa did not believethat his enemies would be foolhardy enough to seek refuge in the houseof Ramabai. The four roads leading out of the city were watched, thecolonel's bungalow and even the ruins of Bruce's camp. They were stillin the city; but where?

A king's peg, and another; and Umballa stormed, his heart filled withDutch courage.

Ramabai made his preparations in case the hunters entered the house.He opened a secret door which led into a large gallery, dim and dustybut still beautiful. Ancient armor covered the walls; armor of thedays when there existed in Delhi a peaco*ck throne; armor inlaid withgold and silver and turquoise, and there were jewel-incrusted swordsand daggers, a blazing helmet which one of Pundita's ancestors had wornwhen the Great Khan came thundering down from China.

"Here," said Ramabai to the colonel, "you will be safe. They mightsearch for days without learning this room existed. There will be noneed to remain here now. Time enough when my servant gives warning."

They filed out of the gallery solemnly. Kathlyn went into the garden,followed by Bruce.

"Do you know," said Kathlyn, "the sight of all that armor, old andstill magnificent, seemed to awaken the recollection of another age tome?"

He wanted to take her in his arms, but he waited for her to continuethe thought.

"I wonder if, in the dim past, I was not an Amazon?"

She stretched out her arms and suddenly he caught them and drew themdown.

"I love you, Kathlyn!"

"No, no!" She struggled back from him. "Let us return to father andWinnie," she said.

During this talk in the garden Umballa had not been inactive. Heordered his captain of the guard to proceed at once to the house ofRamabai and learn if they were there, or had been.

The captain salaamed and departed with his men.

As Bruce and Kathlyn reached the door leading into the house they weremet by Ramabai, whose face was grave.

"Ah, Mem-sahib, you ought not to have come out here. You might beseen." The servant who had been watching the street burst in with thecry: "Soldiers!"

The colonel, Winnie and Pundita appeared. For a moment they believedthat Ramabai was going to guide them to the secret gallery. Butsuddenly he raised his head and stared boldly at the gate. And by thatsign Bruce and the colonel understood: Ramabai had taken up the dice tomake his throw. The two men put their hands on their revolvers andwaited.

Soon the captain and his men came rushing in, only to stop short at asign from Ramabai.

"Be with me on the morrow, and I promise out of my own chest will I payyou your arrears and earnest money for the future. On the other hand,what will you gain by taking us prisoners to Umballa?"

"My lord's word is known. I myself will take charge of the affairs atthe palace; and Umballa shall go to the burning ghats. I will announceto him that I found you not."

The captain and his men departed, while Ramabai and his friendsreentered the house, to find the imperturbable Lal Singh decked out inhis lawful finery.

"All is ready," he announced.

"Dawn," replied Ramabai.

"The servant goes forth for the chupatties."

Dawn. The garden was filling with silent armed men. With Ramabai, inthe secret gallery, were the chiefs. Ramabai indicated the blazingswords.

"My friends, choose among these weapons. The gems are nothing, but thesteel is tried and true."

Lal Singh selected the simplest, salaamed and slid the scabbard throughhis cumme*rbund.

As for Kathlyn, she could not keep her eyes off the beautiful chaincuirass which had once upon a time been worn by one of Pundita'sforebears, a warrior queen.

"Beautiful, beautiful!" she exclaimed. "Pundita, may I put it on? Andtell me the story of the warrior queen. To be brave like that, tofight side by side with the man she loved!" She put the cuirass on.

The sky was yellow when the little army started off upon its desperateenterprise. A guard was left behind for the women.

Pundita solemnly gave each of the girls a dagger. War! Rebellion!Great clamor and shouting before the palace stairs!

"Give us Umballa and the council!"

Umballa heard the shouting, and at first did not understand; but soonthe truth came to him. The city was in revolt. He summoned whatservants he could trust and armed them. And when the captain of theguard entered to seize Umballa he was himself overpowered. Thedespatch with which this was accomplished stunned the soldiers, whoknew not what to do without their leader.

When Lal Singh staggered into the house of Ramabai holding his side inmortal agony, dying, Kathlyn felt the recurrence of that strangeduality which she had first known in the Temple of the Lion.

"We have failed," whispered Lal Singh. "The palace soldiers betrayedus! All are prisoners, shortly to be shot.… The secretgallery… Food and water there!— Fly!" And thus Lal Singhgave up his cobbler's booth.

As in a dream Kathlyn ran from the house into the street.

With the sun breaking in lances of light against the ancient chainarmor, her golden hair flying behind her like a cloud, on, on, Kathlynran, never stumbling, never faltering, till she came out into thesquare before the palace. Like an Amazon of old, she called to thescattering revolutionists, called, harangued, smothered them under herscorn and contempt, and finally roused them to frenzy.

In her madness Kathlyn turned the tide; and when her father's armsclosed round her she sank insensible upon his breast.

CHAPTER XX

BATTLE, BATTLE, BATTLE

"Kit, Kit!" cried Kathlyn's father when she came to her senses. "Mygirl, my girl!"

They left the palace immediately.

The overthrow of Umballa seemed to be complete. Everywhere thesoldiers surrendered, for it was better to have food in the stomachthan lead.

When Kathlyn left the palace a thunder of cheers greeted her. Kathlynwas forced to mount the durbar throne, much as she longed to be off.But Bruce anticipated her thought and despatched one of therevolutionists to the house of Ramabai. Kathlyn held out her handstoward the excited populace, then turned to Ramabai expressively.Ramabai, calm and unruffled as ever, stepped forward and was about toaddress the people, when the disheveled captain of the guard, whomUmballa had sent to the arena lions, pushed his way to the foot of theplatform.

"The arena lions have escaped!"

And there were a dozen lions in all, strong, cruel, and no doubt hungry!

Panic. Men who had been at one another's throat, bravely and hardily,turned and fled. It was a foolish panic, senseless, but, like allpanics, uncontrollable. Those on the platform ran down the steps andat once were swallowed up by the pressing trampling crowd.

Bruce and the colonel, believing that Kathlyn was behind them, foughttheir way to a clearing, determined to secure nets and take the lionsalive. When they turned Kathlyn was gone. For a moment the two menstood as if paralyzed. Then Bruce relieved the tension by smiling. Helaid his hand on the colonel's shoulder.

"She has lost us; but that will not matter. Ordinarily I should bewild with anxiety; but to-day Kathlyn may go where she will, andnothing but awe and reverence will follow her. Besides, she has herrevolver."

At the same time Kathlyn was fighting vigorously to get free of themob, Winnie was struggling with Pundita, striving to wrench the daggerfrom the grief-stricken wife's hand.

"No, no, Pundita!"

"Let me go! My lord is dead, and I wish to follow!"

As the latter's eyes opened wildly Winnie heard a pounding at the door.She flung open the door.

"Pundita?" cried the man.

Winnie caught him by the sleeve and dragged him into the chamber.

"Highness," he cried, "he lives!" And he recounted the startlingevents of the morning.

"They live!" cried Pundita, and covered her face.

To return to Kathlyn: by and by she was able to slip into a doorway,and the bawling rabble passed on down the narrow street. The house wasdeserted, and the hallway and what had been a booth was filled withrubbish. Kathlyn, as she leaned breathlessly against the door, felt itgive. And very glad she was of this knowledge a moment later, when twolions galloped into the street, their manes stiff, their tails arched.Doubtless, they were badly frightened.

Kathlyn reached for the revolver she carried and fired at the animals,not expecting to hit one of them, but hoping that the noise of thefirearm would swerve them into the passage across the way. Instead,they came straight to where she stood.

She stepped inside and slammed the door, holding it and feeling aboutin vain for lock or bolt.

She then espied a ladder which gave to the roof top, and up this sheclimbed. They could not possibly follow her up the ladder, and as shereached the top and it turned back at her pressure, she knew that forthe present she had nothing to fear from the lions.

Then, round the passage she saw a palanquin, carried by slaves. Sheleaned far over.

"Help!" she cried. "Help!"

The bearers paused abruptly, and the curtain of the palanquin was sweptback. The dark sinister visage of Umballa was revealed.

Umballa left the palanquin, opened the door of the house, espied therubbish in the hall; was in the act of mounting the first steps whenone of the lions roared again. Drunk as he was, filled with adrunkard's courage, Umballa started back. The lions! Out into thestreet he went. He turned to the bearers and ordered them to fire theinflammables in the hall. But they refused, for they recognized thechain armor. Mad with rage Umballa struck at them, entered the hallagain, and threw a lighted match into the rubbish.

CHAPTER XXI

THE WHITE GODDESS

The painted dancing girl in the house where Umballa had taken temporaryrefuge began to gather her trinkets, her amber and turquoise necklaces,bracelets and anklets. These she placed in a brass enameled box andtucked it under her arm. Next she shook the sodden Umballa by thesleeve.

"Come!" she cried.

"I would sleep," he muttered.

She seized a bowl containing some flowers and cast the contents intohis face. "Fire, fire and death!" she shrilled at him.

The douche brought the man out of his stupor.

"Fire?" he repeated.

"Come!"

This time he followed her docilely, wiping his face on his sleeve.

They heard a great shouting in the street, but did not tarry to learnwhat had caused it.

One of Umballa's bearers, upon realizing what his master had done, hadrun down the street for aid. He had had two objects in view—to savethe white goddess and to buy his freedom.

A few hundred yards away, in another street, the colonel, Bruce andAhmed were dragging a net for the purpose of laying it for a lion atbay in a blind alley. Into their presence rushed the wild-eyed bearer.

"Save the white goddess!" he cried.

Bruce seized him by the shoulder. "What is that?"

"The white goddess, Sahib! She is on the roof of a burning house.Durga Ram, my master, set fire to it. He is drunk and hiding in ahouse near by."

"The man is mad," declared the colonel. "Kit would not have lost herway this far. He is lying. He wants money."

Ahmed spoke. The bearer fell upon his knees.

Three shots, at intervals!

The colonel and Bruce stared into each other's eyes.

"God in Heaven!" gasped the colonel; "those are revolver shots!"

"Bring the net!" shouted Ahmed. To the trembling bearer he said: "Leadus; we follow. And if you have spoken the truth you shall not onlyhave your freedom, but rupees for your old age."

A lion's net is a heavy affair, but with the aid of the keepers the menran as quickly and lightly as if burdenless. Smoke. There was a fire.The hearts of the white men beat painfully. And the same thoughtoccurred to both of them; they should have gone to Ramabai's housefirst, then turned their attention to the lions. And Umballa washiding in a house near by!

Well for them that they entered the doomed quarter as they did.Kathlyn saw them, and the muzzle of the revolver which she was pressingto her heart lowered, the weapon itself slipping from her hand to theroof. God was not going to let her die like this.

"Spread out the net!" commanded Bruce. "Kathlyn, can you hear me?" heshouted, cupping his hands before his mouth. Faintly he heard herreply. "When I give the word, jump. Do not be afraid."

Kathlyn stepped upon the parapet. A great volume of smoke obscured herfor a moment. Out of the windows the vivid tongues of flame darted,flashing upward. She summoned all her courage and waited for the callof the man she loved. Inside a floor gave way with a crash and thecollateral walls of the building swayed ominously. A despairing roaraccompanied the thunder of falling beams. The lions had gone to theirdeath.

"Jump!"

Without hesitation Kathlyn flung herself into space. A murmur ranthrough the crowd which had, for the moment, forgot its own danger inthe wonder of this spectacle. The men holding the net threw themselvesbackward as Kathlyn struck the mesh. Even then her body touched thestreet cobbles and she was bruised and shaken severely, but, oh, alive,alive! There rose the great shouting which Umballa and the dancinggirl had heard.

Shortly after the house collapsed. The fire spread to the houses oneach side.

Bruce seized the bearer by the arm. "Now, the house which Umballaentered?"

Eagerly enough the slave directed him. For all the abuse and beatingsthe slave was to have his hour. But they found the house empty, exceptfor a chattering monkey and a screaming parrakeet, both attached topedestal perches. Bruce liberated them and returned to the colonel.

"Gone! Well, let him hide in the jungle, a prey to fear and hunger.At least we are rid of him. But I shall die unhappy if in this life wetwo fail to meet again. Kit!"

"John!" She withdrew from her father's arms and sought those of theman who loved her and whom she loved, as youth will and must. "Let himgo. Why should we care? Take me to my sister."

Ahmed smiled as he and his men rolled the net. This was as it shouldbe. For what man was a better mate for his golden-haired Mem-sahib?And then he thought of Lal Singh, and he choked a little. For LalSingh and he had spent many pleasant hours together. They had workedtogether in play and in war, shared danger and bread and glory, all ofwhich was written in the books of the British Raj in Calcutta.

It was the will of Allah; there was but one God, and Mahomet was Hisprophet. Then Ahmed dismissed Lal Singh and the past from histhoughts, after the philosophical manner of the Asiatic, and turned tothe more vital affairs under hand.

At Ramabai's house there was a happy reunion; and on her knees Punditaconfessed to her lord how near she had been to Christian damnation.She had fallen from grace; she had reverted to the old customs of herrace, to whom suicide was no sin, Ramabai took her in his arms andtouched the forehead with his lips.

"And now," said the colonel, "the king!"

Ramabai's head sank.

"What is the matter? Is he dead?"

"If I knew that," answered Ramabai, "I would rest content."

"But you searched the royal prison?"

"And found nothing, nothing!"

"What do you believe?"

"I believe that either the council or Umballa has forestalled us. Weshall visit the council at once, They are prisoners. If they have hadno hand in the disappearance of the king then we are facing a stonewall over which we can not leap. For Umballa has fled, whither no oneknows, and with him has gone the secret. Come; we shall go at once tothe palace prison."

The council which had ruled so long in Allaha was very humble indeed.They had imprisoned the king because he had given many evidences ofmental unbalance. Perhaps unwisely they had proclaimed his death.Durga Ram had discovered what they had done and had held it over theirheads like a sword blade. That the king was not in his dungeon, whyand wherefor, was beyond their knowledge. They were in the power ofRamabai; let him work his will upon them. They had told the truth.And Ramabai, much as he detested them, believed them. But for thepresent it was required that they remain incarcerated till the king wasfound, dead or alive.

In the palace soldiers and servants alike had already forgot Umballa.To them it was as if he had not existed. All in a few hours. Therewas, however, one man who did not forget. Upon a certain day Umballahad carelessly saved his life, and to his benefactor he was nowdetermined to devote that life. This man was the majordomo, the chiefservant in the king's household. It was not that he loved Umballa;rather that he owed Umballa a debt and resolved to pay it.

Two days later, when the fires were extinguished and the populace hadsettled back into its former habits, this majordomo betook himself toUmballa's house. It was well guarded, and by men who had never beenclose to Umballa, but had always belonged to the dissatisfied section,the frankly and openly mutinous section. No bribery was possible here;at least, nothing short of a fabulous sum of money would dislodge theirloyalty to Ramabai, now the constitutional regent. No one could leavethe house or enter it without scrutiny and question.

The servants and the women of the zenana remained undisturbed. Ramabaiwould have it so. Things had been put in order. There had not beenmuch damage done by the looters on the day of the revolt. They hadlooked for treasure merely, and only an occasional bit of vandalism hadmarked their pathway.

On the pain of death no soldier might enter the house.

The majordomo was permitted to enter without question. He passed theguards humbly. But once inside, beyond observation, he became adifferent man. For in Umballa's house, as in Ramabai's, there weresecret chambers, and to-day the majordomo entered one of them—througha panel concealed behind a hanging Ispahan rug.

On the night after the revolt, Umballa, sober and desperate, had slunkback disguised as a candy seller. The house was not guarded then; sohe had no difficulty in gaining admittance. But he had to gainentrance through a window in the zenana. He would not trust either hisservants, his slaves, or his chief eunuch. To the women of his ownzenana he had always been carelessly kind, and women are least bribableof the two sexes.

Umballa entered at once his secret chamber and food and water werebrought, one of the women acting as bearer. On the morning after theguards arrived, and Umballa knew not how long he might have to wait.Through one of the women he sent a verbal message to the majordomo withthe result that each day he learned what was taking place in thepalace. So they hunted for the king.

He was very well satisfied. He had had his revenge; and more thanthis, he was confident when the time came he would also gain hisliberty. He had a ransom to pay: the king himself!

Now then, Ramabai felt it incumbent on him to hold a banquet in thepalace, there to state to his friends, native and white, just what heintended to do. And on the night of this sober occasion he sat in thethrone room before a desk littered with documents. As he finishedwriting a note he summoned the majordomo.

"Have this delivered at once to Hare Sahib, whom you will find at hisbungalow outside the city. Tell him also that he must be presentto-night, he, his friend and his daughters. It is of vital importance."

Pundita, who was staring out of the window, turned and asked her lordwhat he was sending the Colonel Sahib that he could not give him at thebanquet.

"A surprise, an agreeable surprise."

The majordomo co*cked his ears; but Ramabai said nothing more.

At the colonel's bungalow there was rejoicing. Ramabai had writtenthat, since the king could not be found he would head the provisionalgovernment as regent, search for and arrest Umballa, and at any timethe Colonel Sahib signified would furnish him with a trusty escort tothe railway, three days' journey away. He added, however, that hehoped the Colonel Sahib would be good enough to remain till order wasestablished.

The majordomo contrived to tarry long enough to overhear as much of theconversation as needed for he understood English—and then returned tothe city to carry the news to Umballa. To him Umballa gave a whitepowder.

"To-night, you say, Ramabai gives a banquet?"

"Yes, Huzoor."

"Well, put this in his cup and your obligation to me is paid."

The majordomo stared a long time at that little packet of powder. Acold sweat formed upon his brow under his turban.

"Well?" said Umballa ironically.

"Huzoor, it is murder!"

Umballa shrugged and held out his hand for the packet.

The majordomo swallowed a few times, and bowed his head. "It shall bedone, Huzoor. My life is yours to do with as you please. I have saidit."

"Begone, then, and bring me the news on the morrow that Ramabai isdead. You alone know where the king is. Should they near the hut inwhich I have hidden him, see that he is killed. He is also useless."

The majordomo departed with heavy heart. Ramabai was an honest man;but Durga Ram had spoken.

At the banquet, with its quail and pheasant, its fruits and flowers,its rare plates and its rarer goblets for the light wines high castespermitted themselves occasionally to drink, Ramabai toyed idly with hisgoblet and thoughtlessly pushed it toward Kathlyn, who sat at his right.

Imbued with a sense of gratitude for Ramabai's patience and kindnessand assistance through all her dreadful ordeals, Kathlyn sprang upsuddenly, and without looking reached for what she supposed to be herown goblet, but inadvertently her hand came into contact withRamabai's. What she had in mind to say was never spoken.

The majordomo stood appalled. This wonderful white woman over whom thegods watched as they watched the winds and the rains, of whom he hadnot dared speak to Umballa. She? No! He saw that he himself mustdie. He seized the goblet ere it reached her lips, drank and flung itaside, empty. He was as good as dead, for there were no antidotes forpoisons Umballa gave. Those seated about the table were too astonishedto stir. The majordomo put his hands to his eyes, reeled, steadiedhimself, and then Ramabai understood.

"Poison!" he gasped, springing up and catching the majordomo by theshoulders. "Poison, and it was meant for me! Speak!"

"Lord, I will tell all. I am dying!"

It was a strange tale of misplaced loyalty and gratitude, but it waspeculiarly oriental. And when they learned that Umballa was hidden inhis own house and the king in a hut outside the city, they knew thatGod was just, whatever His prophet's name might be. Before he died themajordomo explained the method of entering the secret chamber.

The quail and pheasant, the fruits and wine remained untouched. Thehall became deserted almost immediately. To the king, first; to theking! Then Umballa should pay his debt.

They found the poor king in the hut, in a pitiable condition. Helaughed and babbled and smiled and wept as they led him away. But inthe secret chamber which was to have held Umballa there was no livingthing.

For Umballa had, at the departure of the majordomo, conceived a planfor rehabilitation so wide in its ramifications, so powerful andwhelming, that nothing could stay it; once it was set in motion. Thepriests, the real rulers of Asia; the wise and patient gurus, who heldthe most compelling of all scepters, superstition! Double fool that hehad been, not to have thought of this before! He knew that they hatedRamabai, who in religion was an outcast and a pariah, who worshiped buta single God whom none had ever seen, of whom no idol had been carvedand set up in a temple.

Superstition!

Umballa threw off his robes and donned his candy seller's tatters, leftthe house without being questioned by the careless guard, and soughtthe chief temple.

Superstition!

To cow the populace, to bring the troops to the mark, with threats ofcurses, famine, plague, eternal damnation! Superstition! And this iswhy Ramabai and his followers found an empty chamber.

CHAPTER XXII

BEHIND THE CURTAINS

In the rear of the temple Umballa sought was a small chamber that wasused by the priests, when they desired to rest or converse privately,which was often. The burning temple lamps of brass emphasized thedarkness of the room rather than dispelled it. A shadow occasionallyflickered through the amber haze—an exploring bat. A dozen or morepriests stood in one of the dim corners, from which their own especialidol winked at them with eyes like coals blown upon. The Krishna ofthe Ruby Eyes, an idol known far and wide but seen by few.

In the temple itself there was a handful of tardy worshipers. The heatof the candles, the smell of the eternal lotus flower and smokingincense sticks made even the huge vault stifling. Many of the idolswere bejeweled or patched with beaten gold leaf, and many had beencoveted by wandering white men, who, when their endeavor became known,disappeared mysteriously and were never more known in the haunts of men.

A man in tatters appeared suddenly in the great arched doorway. Histurban came down almost to his eyes and a neckcloth covered his mouth.All that could be seen of him in the matter of countenance was a pairof brilliant eyes and a predatory nose. He threw a quick piercingglance about, assured himself that such devotees as he saw wereharmless, then strode boldly, if hurriedly, toward the rear chamber,which he entered without ado. Instantly the indignant priests rushedtoward him to expel him and give him a tongue-lashing for hisimpudence, when a hand was thrust out, and they beheld upon a finger agreat green stone. They stopped as suddenly as though they had met aninvisible electric current.

The curtain fell behind the man in tatters, and he remained motionlessfor a space. A low murmuring among the priests ensued, and presentlyone of their number—the youngest—passed out and stationed himselfbefore the curtain. Not even a privileged dancing girl might enter now.

The man in tatters stepped forward. He became the center of the group;his gestures were quick, tense, authoritative. At length priestturned to priest, and the wrinkled faces became more wrinkled still:smiles.

"Highness," said the eldest, "we had thought of this, but you did notmake us your confidant."

"Till an hour gone it had not occurred to me. Shall Ramabai, then,become your master, to set forth the propaganda of the infidel?"

"No!" The word was not spoken loudly, but sibilantly, with somethingresembling a hiss. "No!"

"And shall a king who has no mind, no will, no strength, resume hisauthority? Perhaps to bring more white people into Allaha, perhaps togive Allaha eventually to the British Raj?"

Again the negative.

"But the method?"

Umballa smiled. "What brings the worshiper here with candles andflowers and incense? Is it love or reverence or superstition?"

The bald yellow heads nodded like porcelain mandarins.

"Superstition," went on Umballa, "the sword which bends the knees ofthe layman, has and always will through the ages!"

In the vault outside a bell tinkled, a gong boomed melodiously.

"When I give the sign," continued the schemer, "declare the curse uponall those who do not bend. A word from your lips, and Ramabai's troopsvanish, reform and become yours and mine!"

"While the king lives?" asked the chief priest curiously.

"Ah!" And Umballa smiled again.

"But you, Durga Ram?"

"There is Ramabai, a senile king, and I. Which for your purposes willyou choose?"

There was a conference. The priests drifted away from Umballa. He didnot stir. His mien was proud and haughty, but for all that his kneesshook and his heart thundered. He understood that it was to be all ornothing, no middle course, no half methods. He waited, wetting hiscracked and swollen lips. When the priests returned to him, theirheads bent before him a little. It represented a salaam, as much asthey had ever given to the king himself. A glow ran over Umballa.

"Highness, we agree. There will be terms."

"I will agree to them without question."

Life and power again; real power! These doddering fools should servehim, thinking the while that they served themselves.

"Half the treasury must be paid to the temple."

"Agreed!" Half for the temple and half for himself; and theabolishment of the seven leopards. "With this stipulation: Ramabai isyours, but the white people are to be mine."

The priests signified assent.

And Umballa smiled in secret. Ramabai would be dead on the morrow.

"There remains the king," said the chief priest.

Umballa shrugged.

The chief priest stared soberly at the lamp above his head. The kingwould be, then, Umballa's affair.

"He is ill?"

"He is moribund… Silence!" warned Umballa.

The curtains became violently agitated. They heard the voice of theyoung priest outside raised in protest, to be answered by the shrilltones of a woman.

"You are mad!"

"And thou art a stupid fool!"

Umballa's hand fell away from his dagger.

"It is a woman," he said. "Admit her."

The curtains were thrust aside, and the painted dancing girl, who hadsaved Umballa from death or capture in the fire of his own contriving,rushed in. Her black hair was studded with turquoise, a necklace ofamber gleamed like gold around her neck, and on her arms and ankles aplentitude of silver bracelets and anklets. With her back to thecurtains, the young priest staring curiously over her shoulder, shepresented a picturesque tableau.

"Well!" said Umballa, who understood that she was here from no idlewhim.

"Highness, you must hide with me this night."

"Indeed?"

"Or die," coolly.

Umballa sprang forward and seized her roughly.

"What has happened?"

"I was in the zenana, Highness, visiting my sister, whom you hadtransferred from the palace. All at once we heard shouting andtrampling of feet, and a moment later your house was overrun with men.They had found the king in the hut and had taken him to the palace.That they did not find you is because you came here."

"Tell me all."

"It seems that the majordomo gave the poison to Ramabai, but the whitegoddess…"

"The white goddess!" cried Umballa, as if stung by a cobra's fang.

"Ay, Highness. She did not die on that roof. Nothing can harm her.It is written."

"And I was never told!"

She lived, lived, and all the terrors he had evoked for her were asnaught! Umballa was not above superstition himself for all hisEuropean training. Surely this girl of the white people was imbuedwith something more than mortal. She lived!

"Go on!" he said, his voice subdued as was his soul.

"The white goddess by mistake took Ramabai's goblet and was about todrink when the majordomo seized the goblet and drained the poisonhimself. He confessed everything, where the king was, where you were.They are again hunting through the city for you. For the present youmust hide with me."

"The white woman must die," said Umballa in a voice like one beingstrangled.

To this the priests agreed without hesitation. This white woman whomthe people were calling a goddess was a deadly menace to that scepterof theirs, superstition.

"What has gone is a pact?"

"A pact, Durga Ram," said the chief priest. With Ramabai spreadingChristianity, the abhorred creed which gave people liberty of personand thought, the future of his own religion stood in imminent danger."A pact," he reflected. "To you, Durga Ram, the throne; to us half thetreasury and all the ancient rites of our creed restored."

"I have said it."

Umballa followed the dancing girl into the square before the temple.He turned and smiled ironically. The bald fools!

"Lead on, thou flower of the jasmine!" lightly.

And the two of them disappeared into the night.

But the priests smiled, too, for Durga Ram should always be more intheir power than they in his.

There was tremendous excitement in the city the next morning. Itseemed that the city would never be permitted to resume its oldcareless indolence. Swift as the wind the news flew that the old kingwas alive, that he had been held prisoner all these months by Durga Ramand the now deposed council of three. No more the old rut of dulness.Never had they known such fetes. Since the arrival of the whitegoddess not a day had passed without some thrilling excitement, whichhad cost them nothing but shouts.

So they deserted the bazaars and markets that morning to witness themost surprising spectacle of all: the king who was dead was not dead,but alive!

He appeared before them in his rags. For Ramabai, no mean politician,wished to impress upon the volatile populace the villainy of Umballaand the council, to gain wholly, without reservation, the sympathy ofthe people, the strongest staff a politician may lean upon. Like abrave and honest man he had cast from his thoughts all hope of power.The king might be old, senile, decrepit, but he was none the less theking. If he had moments of blankness of thought, there were othermoments when the old man was keen enough; and keen enough he was torealize in these lucid intervals that Ramabai, among all his people,was loyalest.

So, in the throne room, later, he gave the power to Ramabai to act inhis stead till he had fully recovered from his terrible hardships.More than this, he declared that Pundita, the wife of Ramabai, shouldultimately rule; for of a truth the principality was lawfully hers. Hewould make his will at once, but in order that this should be legal hewould have to destroy the previous will he had given to Colonel Hare,his friend.

"Forgive me, my friend," he said. "I acted unwisely in your case. ButI was angry with my people for their cowardice."

"Your Majesty," replied the colonel, "the fault lay primarily with me.I should not have accepted it or returned. I will tell you the truth.It was the filigree basket of gold and precious stones that brought meback."

"So? And all for nothing, since the hiding-place I gave you is not thetrue one. But of that, more anon. I want this wretch Durga Ram spreadout on an ant hill…"

And then, without apparent reason, he began to call for Lakshmi, thebeautiful Lakshmi, the wife of his youth. He ordered preparations foran elephant fight; rambled, talked as though he were but twenty; hiseyes dim, his lips loose and pendulent. And in this condition he mightlive ten or twenty years. Ramabai was sore at heart.

They had to wait two days till his mind cleared again. His firstquestion upon his return to his mental balance was directed to Kathlyn.Where was the document he had given to his friend Hare? Kathlynexplained that Umballa had taken it from her.

"But, Your Majesty," exclaimed the colonel rather impatiently, "whatdifference does it make? Your return has nullified that document."

"Not in case of my death. And in Allaha the elder document is alwaysthe legal document, unless it is legally destroyed. It is not well toantagonize the priests, who hold us firmly to this law. I might make awill in favor of Pundita, but it would not legally hold in justice ifall previous wills were not legally destroyed. You must find thisdocument."

"Did you ever hear of a law to equal that?" asked Bruce of the colonel.

"No, my boy, I never did. It would mean a good deal of red tape for aman who changed his mind frequently. He could not fool his relations;they would know. The laws of the dark peoples have always amazed me,because if you dig deep enough into them you are likely to find commonsense at the bottom. We must search Umballa's house thoroughly. Iwish to see Ramabai and Pundita in the shadow of their rights. Can'tdestroy a document offhand and make a new one without legallydestroying the first. Well, let us be getting back to the bungalow.We'll talk it over there."

At the bungalow everything was systematically being prepared for thehomeward journey. The laughter and chatter of the two girls was musicto their father's ears. And sometimes he intercepted secret glancesbetween Bruce and Kathlyn. Youth, youth; youth and love! Well, so itwas. He himself had been a youth, had loved and been beloved. But hegrew very lonely at the thought of Kathlyn eventually going intoanother home; and some young chap would soon come and claim Winnie, andhe would have no one but Ahmed. If only he had had a boy, to bring hisbride to his father's roof!

Pictures were taken down from the walls, the various wild animal heads,and were packed away in strong boxes. And Ahmed went thither and yon,a hundred cares upon his shoulders. He was busy because then he had notime to mourn Lal Singh.

Bruce's camp was, of course, in utter ruin. Not even the cookingutensils remained: and of his men there was left but Ali, whose legstill caused him to limp a little. So Bruce was commanded by no lessperson than Kathlyn to be her father's guest till they departed forAmerica. Daily Winnie rode Rajah. He was such a funny old pachyderm,a kind of clown among his brethren, but as gentle as a kitten. Runningaway had not paid. He was like the country boy who had gone to the bigcity; he never more could be satisfied with the farm.

The baboon hung about the colonel's heels as a dog might have done;while Kathlyn had found a tiger cub for a plaything. So for a whilepeace reigned at the camp.

They found the much sought document in the secret chamber in Umballa'shouse (just as he intended they should); and the king had it legallydestroyed and wrote a new will, wherein Pundita should have back thatwhich the king's ancestors had taken from her—a throne.

After that there was nothing for Colonel Hare to do but proceed to shiphis animals to the railroad, thence to the ports where he could disposeof them. Never should he enter this part of India again. Life was tooshort.

High and low they hunted Umballa, but without success. He was hiddenwell. They were, however, assured that he lingered in the city and wassinisterly alive.

Day after day the king grew stronger mentally and physically. Many ofthe reforms suggested by Ramabai were put into force. Quiet at lengthreally settled down upon the city. They began to believe that Umballahad fled the city, and vigilance correspondingly relaxed.

The king had a private chamber, the window of which overlooked thegarden of brides. There, with his sherbets and water pipe he resumedhis old habit of inditing verse in pure Persian, for he was a scholar.He never entered the zenana or harem; but occasionally he sent for someof the women to play and dance before him. And the woman who lovedUmballa was among these. One day she asked to take a journey into thebazaars to visit her sister. Ordinarily such a request would have beendenied. But the king no longer cared what the women did, and the chiefeunuch slept afternoons and nights, being only partly alive in themornings.

An hour later a palanquin was lowered directly beneath the king'swindow. To his eye it looked exactly like the one which had departed.He went on writing, absorbed. Had he looked closely, had he been theleast suspicious… !

This palanquin was the gift of Durga Ram, so-called Umballa. It hadbeen built especially for this long waited for occasion. It wasnothing more nor less than a cunning cage in which a tiger was huddled,in a vile temper. The palanquin bearers, friends of the dancing girl,had overpowered the royal bearers and donned their costumes. At thismoment one of the bearers (Umballa himself, trusting no one!) crawledstealthily under the palanquin and touched the spring which liberatedthe tiger and opened the blind. The furious beast sprang to thewindow. The king was too astonished to move, to appreciate his danger.From yon harmless palanquin this striped fury!

The tiger in his leap struck the lacquered desk, broke it and scatteredthe papers about the floor.

Ramabai and his officers were just entering the corridor which led tothe chamber when the tragedy occurred. They heard the noise, theking's cries. When they reached the door silence greeted them.

The room was wrecked. There was evidence of a short but terrificstruggle. The king lay dead upon the floor, the side of his headcrushed in. His turban and garments were in tatters. But he had diedlike a king; for in the corner by the window lay the striped one, ajeweled dagger in his throat.

Ramabai was first to discover the deserted palanquin, and proceeded toinvestigate. It did not take him more than a minute to understand whathad happened. It was not an accident; it was cold-blooded murder, andback of it stood the infernal ingenuity of one man.

Thus fate took Allaha by the hair again and shook her out of thepastoral quiet. What would happen now?

This!

On the morning after the tragic death of the old king, those who wentearly to worship, to propitiate the gods to deal kindly with themduring the day, were astounded to find the doors and gates of all thetemples closed! Nor was any priest visible in his usual haunts. Thepeople were stunned. For there could be but one interpretation to thisact on the part of the gurus: the gods had denied the people. Why?Wherefore? Twenty-four hours passed without their learning the cause;the priests desired to fill them with terror before they struck.

Then came the distribution of pamphlets wherein it was decreed that thepopulace, the soldiery, all Allaha in fact, must bow to the will of thegods or go henceforth accursed. The gods demanded the reinstatement asregent of Durga Ram; the deposing of Ramabai, the infidel; the fealtyof the troops to Durga Ram. Twenty-four hours were given the people tomake their choice.

Before the doors of all the temples the people gathered, wailing andpouring dust upon their heads, from Brahmin to pariah, from high castematrons to light dancing girls. And when the troops, company bycompany, began to kneel at the outer rim of these gatherings, Ramabaidespatched a note to Colonel Hare, warning him to fly at once. But themessenger tore up the note and flew to his favorite temple.Superstition thus won what honor, truth and generosity could not hold.

Strange, how we Occidentals have stolen out from under the shadow ofanathema. Curse us, and we smile and shrug our shoulders; for a curseis but the mouthing of an angry man. But to these brown and yellow andblack people, from the steps of Lhassa to the tangled jungles ofmid-Africa, the curse of fake gods is effective. They are really akindly people, generous, and often loyal unto death, simple and patientand hard-working; but let a priest raise his hand in anathema and atonce they become mad, cruel and remorseless as the tiger.

Allaha surrendered; and Umballa came forth. All this happened soquickly that not even a rumor of it reached the colonel's bungalow tillit was too late. They were to have left on the morrow. The king dead,only a few minor technicalities stood an the way of Ramabai and Pundita.

Bruce and Kathlyn were fencing one with the other, after the manner oflovers, when Winnie, her eyes wide with fright, burst in upon them withthe news that Umballa, at the head of many soldiers, was approaching.The lovers rushed to the front of the bungalow in time to witness thecolonel trying to prevent the intrusion of a priest.

"Patience, Sahib!" warned the priest.

The colonel, upon seeing Umballa, made an attempt to draw his revolver,but the soldiers prevented him from carrying into execution his wildimpulse.

The priest explained what had happened. The Colonel Sahib, his friendBruce Sahib, and his youngest daughter would be permitted to depart inpeace; but Kathlyn Mem-sahib must wed Durga Ram.

When the dazed colonel produced the document which had been legallycanceled, Umballa laughed and declared that he himself had forged thatparticular document, that the true one, which he held, was not legallydestroyed.

Burning with the thought of revenge, of reprisal, how could Durga Ramknow that he thus dug his own pit? Had he let them go he would haveeventually been crowned, as surely as now his path led straight to thetreadmill.

Ahmed alone escaped, because Umballa had in his triumph forgot him!

CHAPTER XXIII

REMORSE

There is an old saying in Rajput that woman and the four winds wereborn at the same time, of the same mother: blew hot, blew cold,balmily, or tempestuously, from all points at once. Perhaps.

In the zenana of the royal palace there was a woman, tall, lithe, witha skin of ivory and roses and eyes as brown as the husk of a waterchestnut. On her bare ankles were gem-incrusted anklets, on her armsbracelets of hammered gold, round her neck a rope of pearls andemeralds and rubies and sapphires. And still she was not happy.

From time to time her fingers strained at the roots of her glossy blackhair and the whites of her great eyes glistened. She bit her lips tokeep back the sobs crowding in her throat. She pressed her handstogether so tightly that the little knuckles cracked.

"Ai, ai!" she wailed softly.

She paced the confines of her chamber with slow step, with fast step;or leaned against the wall, her face hidden in her arms; or pressed herhot cheeks against the cool marble of the lattice.

Human nature is made up of contraries. Why, when we have had thecourage coolly to plan murder, or to aid or suggest it, why must we betroubled with remorse? More than this, why must we battle against thesilly impulse to tell the first we meet what we have done? Remorse:what is it?

Now, this woman of the zenana believed not in the God of your fathersand mine. She was a pagan; her Heaven and hell were ruled by athousand gods, and her temples were filled with their images. Yet thisthing, remorse, was stabbing her with its hot needles, till no torturedevised by man could equal it.

She was the poor foolish woman who loved Durga Ram; loved him as thesewild Asiatic women love, from murder to the poisoned cup. Loved him,and knew that he loved her not, but used her for his own selfish ends.There you have it. Had he loved her, remorse never would have liftedits head or raised its voice. And again, had not Umballa sought thewhite woman, this butterfly of the harem might have died of old agewithout unburdening her soul. Remorse is the result of a crimecommitted uselessly. Humanity is unchangeable, for all its variety ofskins.

And here was this woman, wanting to tell some one!

Umballa had done a peculiar thing: he had not laid hand upon eitherRamabai or Pundita. When asked the reason for this generosity toward aman who but recently put a price on his head, Umballa smiled andexplained that Ramabai was not only broken politically, but was areligious outcast. It was happiness for such a person to die, so hepreferred that Ramabai should live.

Secretly, however, Ramabai's revolutionary friends were still back ofhim, though they pretended to bow to the yoke of the priests.

So upon this day matters stood thus: the colonel, Kathlyn, Bruce andWinnie were prisoners again; Ahmed was in hiding, and Ramabai and hiswife mocked by those who once had cheered them. The ingratitude ofkings is as nothing when compared to the ingratitude of a people.

A most ridiculous country: to crown Kathlyn again (for the third time!)and then to lock her up! Next to superstition as a barrier to progressthere stands custom. Everything one did must be done as some one elsehad done it; the initiative was still chained up in the temples, itbelonged to the bald priests only.

But Umballa had made two mistakes: he should have permitted the whitepeople to leave the country and given a silken cord to the chiefeunuch, to apply as directed. There are no written laws among the darkpeoples that forbid the disposal of that chattel known as a woman ofthe harem, or zenana. There are certain customs that even the allpowerful British Raj must ignore.

The catafalque of the dead king rested upon the royal platform. Twotroopers stood below; otherwise the platform was deserted. WhenRamabai and Pundita arrived and mounted the platform to pay their lastrespects to a kindly man, the soldiers saluted gravely, evensorrowfully. Ramabai, for his courage, his honesty and justice, wastheir man; but they no longer dared serve him, since it would be at theexpense of their own lives.

"My Lord!" whispered Pundita, pressing Ramabai's hand. "Courage!" ForPundita understood the man at her side. Had he been honorless, shewould this day be wearing a crown.

"Pundita, they hissed us as we passed."

"Not the soldiers, my Lord."

"And this poor man! Pundita, he was murdered, and I am powerless toavenge him. It was Umballa; but what proof have I? None, none! Well,for me there is left but one thing; to leave Allaha for good. We twoshall go to some country where honor and kindness are not crimes butvirtues."

"My Lord, it is our new religion."

"And shall we hold to it and go, or repudiate it and stay?"

"I am my Lord's chattel; but I would despise him if he took the basecourse."

"And so should I, flower of my heart!" Ramabai folded his arms andstared down moodily at the man who, had he lived, could have madePundita his successor. "Pundita, I have not yet dared tell you all;but here, in the presence of death, truth will out. We can not leave.Confiscation of property and death face us at every gate. No! Umballaproposes to crush me gradually and make my life a hell. No man who wasmy friend now dares receive me in his house. Worship is denied us,unless we worship in secret. There is one pathway open." He paused.

"And what is that, my Lord?"

"To kneel in the temple and renounce our religion. Do we that, and weare free to leave Allaha."

Pundita smiled. "My Lord is not capable of so vile an act."

"No."

And hand in hand they stood before the catafalque forgetting everythingbut the perfect understanding between them.

"Ai, ai!"

It was but a murmur; and the two turned to witness the approach of thewoman of the zenana. She flung herself down before the catafalque,passionately kissing the shroud. She leaned back and beat her breastand wailed. Ramabai was vastly puzzled over this demonstration. Thata handsome young woman should wail over the corpse of an old man whohad never been anything to her might have an interpretation far removedfrom sorrow. Always in sympathy, however, with those bowed with grief,Ramabai stooped and attempted to raise her.

She shrank from his touch, looked up and for the first time seemed tobe aware of his presence. Like a bubble under water, that which hadbeen striving for utterance came to the surface. She snatched one ofRamabai's hands.

"Ai, ai! I am wretched. Lord, wretched! There is hot lead in myheart and poison in my brain! I will confess, confess!"

Ramabai and Pundita gazed at each other, astonished.

"What is it? What do you wish to confess?" cried Ramabai quickly."Perhaps…"

She clung to his hand. "They will order my death by the silken cord.I am afraid. Krishna fend for me!"

"What do you know?"

"His majesty was murdered!" she whispered.

"I know that," replied Ramabai. "But who murdered him? Who built thatcage in the palanquin? Who put the tiger there? Who beat andoverpowered the real bearers and confiscated their turbans? Speak,girl; and if you can prove these things, there will be no silken cord."

"But who will believe a poor woman of the zenana?"

"I will."

"But you can not save men from the cord. They have taken away yourpower."

"And you shall give it back to me!"

"I?"

"Even so. Come with me now, to the temple."

"The temple?"

"Aye; where all the soldiers are, the priests… and Durga Ram!"

"Ai, ai! Durga Ram; it was he! And I helped him, thus: I securedpermission to go into the bazaars. There an assault took place underthe command of Durga Ram, and my bearers were made prisoners. DurgaRam, disguised as a bearer, himself freed the tiger which killed theking. Yes! To the temple! She who confesses in the temple, herperson is sacred. It is the law, the law! I had forgot! To thetemple, my Lord!"

Before the high tribunal of priests, before the unhappy Kathlyn, beforethe astonished Umballa, appeared Ramabai and Pundita, between them theyoung woman of the zenana, now almost dead with terror.

"Hold!" cried Ramabai when the soldiers started toward him to eject himfrom the temple.

"What!" said Umballa; "will you recant?"

"No, Durga Ram. I stand here before you all, an accuser! I know thelaw. Will you, wise and venerable priests, you men of Allaha, yousoldiers, serve a murderer? Will you," with a wave of his hand towardthe priests, "stand sponsor to the man who deliberately planned andexecuted the miserable death of our king? Shall it fly to Benares,this news that Allaha permits itself to be ruled and bullied by acommon murderer; a man without family, a liar and a cheat? Durga Ram,who slew the king; you turned upon the hand that had fed and clothedyou and raised you to power.… Wait! Let this woman speak!"

A dramatic moment followed; a silence so tense that the flutteringwings of the doves in the high arches could be heard distinctly.Ramabai was a great politician. He had struck not only wisely butswiftly before his public. Had he come before the priests and Umballaalone, he would have died on the spot. But there was no way ofcovering up this accusation, so bold, direct; it would have to beinvestigated.

Upon her knees, her arms outstretched toward the scowling priests, thewoman of the zenana tremblingly told her tale: how she had savedUmballa during the revolt; how she had secured him shelter with hersister, who was a dancer; how she had visited Umballa in his secretchamber; how he had confided to her his plans; how she had seen himwith her own eyes become one of the fake bearers of the palanquin.

"The woman lies because I spurned her!" roared Umballa.

"Away with her!" cried the chief priest, inwardly cursing Umballa forhaving permitted this woman to live when she knew so much. "Away withher!"

"The law!" the woman wailed. "The sanctity of the temple is mine!"

"Hold!" said Kathlyn, standing up. In her halting Hindustani shespoke: "I have something to say to you all. This woman tells thetruth. Let her go unafraid. You, grave priests, have thrown your lotwith Umballa. Listen. Have you not learned by this time that I am nota weak woman, but a strong one? You have harried me and injured me andwronged me and set tortures for me, but here I stand, unharmed. Thisday I will have my revenge. My servant Ahmed has departed for thewalled city of Bala Khan. He will return with Bala Khan and an armysuch as will flatten the city of Allaha to the ground, and crows andvultures and tigers and jackals shall make these temples theirabiding-places, and men will forget Allaha as they now forget themighty Chitor." She swung round toward the priests. "You haveyourselves to thank. At a word from me, Bala Khan enters or stops atthe outer walls. I have tried to escape you by what means I had at mycommand. Now it shall be war! War, famine, plague!"

Her young voice rang out sharp and clear, sending terror to allcowardly hearts, not least among these being those beating in thebreasts of the priests.

"Now," speaking to the soldiers, "go liberate my father, my sister andmy husband-to-be; and woe to any who disobey me! For while I standhere I shall be a queen indeed! Peace; or war, famine and the plague.Summon the executioner. Arrest Durga Ram. Strip him before my eyes ofhis every insignia of rank. He is a murderer. He shall go to thetread-mill, there to slave till death. I have said it!"

Far in the rear of the cowed assemblage, near the doors, stood Ahmed,in his old guise of bheestee, or water carrier. When he heard thatbeloved voice he felt the blood rush into his throat. Aye, they wereright. Who but a goddess would have had at such a time an inspirationso great? But it gave him an idea, and he slipped away to complete it.Bala Khan should come in fact.

So he did not see Umballa upon his knees, whining for mercy, makingfutile promises, begging for liberty. The soldiers spat contemptuouslyas they seized him and dragged him off.

The priests conferred hastily. Bala Khan was a fierce Mohammedan, aruthless soldier; his followers were without fear. The men of Allahamight put up a good defense, but in the end they would be whelmed; andthe gods of Hind would be cast out to make way for the prophet ofAllah. This young woman with the white skin had for the nonce beatenthem. Durga Ram had played the fool: between the two women, he hadfallen. They had given him power, and he had let it slip through hisfingers for the sake of reprisal where it was not needed. Let him go,then, to the treadmill; they were through with him. He had played hisgame like a tyro. They must placate this young woman whom the peoplebelieved was their queen, but who they knew was the plaything ofpolitics and expediencies.

The chief or high priest salaamed, and Kathlyn eyed him calmly, thoughher knees threatened to refuse support.

"Majesty, we bow to your will. Allaha can not hope to cope with BalaKhan's fierce hillmen. All we ask is that you abide with us till youhave legally selected your successor."

"Who shall be Pundita," said Kathlyn resolutely.

The chief priest salaamed again. The movement cost him nothing. OnceBala Khan was back in his city and this white woman out of the country,he would undertake to deal with Ramabai and Pundita. He doubted BalaKhan would stir from his impregnable city on behalf of Ramabai.

The frail woman who loved Umballa raised her hands in supplication.

Kathlyn understood. She shook her head. Umballa should end his daysin the treadmill; he should grind the people's corn. Nothing shouldstir her from this determination.

"Majesty, and what of me?" cried the unhappy woman, now filled withanother kind of remorse.

"You shall return to the zenana for the present."

"Then I am not to die, Majesty?"

"No."

"And Bala Khan?" inquired the priest.

"He shall stand prepared; that is all."

The people, crowding in the temple and in the square before it,salaamed deeply as Kathlyn left and returned to the palace. She wasrather dizzy over the success of her inspiration. A few days mightpass without harm; but sooner or later they would discover that she hadtricked them; and then, the end. But before that hour arrived theywould doubtless find some way of leaving the city secretly.

That it would be many days ere Pundita wore the crown—trust thepriests to spread the meshes of red tape!—Kathlyn was reasonablycertain.

"My girl," said the colonel, "you are a queen, if ever there was one.And that you should think of such a simple thing when we had all givenup! They would not have touched Umballa. Kit, Kit, whatever will youdo when you return to the humdrum life at home?"

"Thank God on my knees, dad!" she said fervently. "But we are not safeyet, by any means. We must form our plans quickly. We have perhapsthree days' grace. After that, woe to all of us who are found here.Ah, I am tired, tired!"

"Kit," whispered Bruce, "I intend this night to seek Bala Khan!"

"John!"

"Yes. What the deuce is Allaha to me? Ramabai must fight it outalone. But don't worry about me; I can take care of myself."

"But I don't want you to go. I need you."

"It is your life, Kit, I am certain. Everything depends upon theirfinding out that Bala Khan will strike if you call upon him. At most,all he'll do will be to levy a tribute which Ramabai, once Pundita ison the throne, can very well pay. Those priests are devils incarnate.They will leave no stone unturned to do you injury, after to-day'swork. You have humiliated and outplayed them."

"It is best he should go, Kit," her father declared. "We'll not tellRamabai. He has been a man all the way through; but we mustn'tsacrifice our chances for the sake of a bit of sentiment. John mustseek Bala Khan's aid."

Kathlyn became resigned to the inevitable.

Umballa. He tried to bribe the soldiers. They laughed and tauntedhim. He took his rings from his fingers and offered them. Thesoldiers snatched them out of his palm and thrust him along the pathwhich led to the mill. In Allaha political malefactors and murdererswere made to serve the state; not a bad law if it had always been ajust one. But many a poor devil had died at the wrist bar for no otherreason than that he had offended some high official, disturbed theserenity of some priest.

When the prisoners saw Umballa a shout went up. There were some therewho had Umballa to thank for their miseries. They hailed him andjeered him and mocked him.

"Here is the gutter rat!"

"May his feet be tender!"

"Robber of the poor, where is my home, my wife and children?"

"May he rot in the grave with a pig!"

"Hast ever been thirsty, Highness?"

"Drink thy sweat, then!"

"Give the 'heaven born' irons that are rusted!"

The keepers enjoyed this raillery. Umballa was going to afford themmuch amusem*nt. They forced him to the wrist bar, snapped the irons onhis wrist, and shouted to the men to tread. Ah, well they knew thegame! They trotted with gusto, forcing Umballa to keep pace with them,a frightful ordeal for a beginner. Presently he slipped and fell, andhung by his wrists while his legs and thighs bumped cruelly. The lashfell upon his shoulders, and he shrieked and grew limp. He had fainted.

Among the late king's papers they found an envelope addressed toKathlyn. It was in grandiloquent English. Brevity of speech isunknown to the East Indian. Kathlyn read it with frowning eyes. Shegave it to her father to read; and it hurt her to note the way his eyestook fire at the contents of that letter. The filigree basket of goldand gems; the trinkets for which he had risked his own life, Kathlyn's,then Winnie's. In turn Bruce and Ramabai perused the letter; and toRamabai came the inspiration.

They would seek this treasure, but only he, Ramabai, and Pundita wouldreturn. Here lay their way to freedom without calling upon Bala Khanfor aid. The matter, however, had to be submitted to the priests, andthose wily men in yellow robes agreed. They could very well promiseDurga Ram his freedom again, pursue these treasure seekers and destroythem; that would be Durga Ram's ransom.

The return to the palace was joyous this time; but in her heart ofhearts Kathlyn was skeptical. Till she trod the deck of a shiphomeward bound she would always be doubting.

Bruce did not have to seek Bala Khan. The night of Kathlyn's defianceAhmed had acquainted them with his errand. He was now on his way toBala Khan. They need trouble themselves no longer regarding the future.

"All goes well," said Ramabai; "for, to reach the hiding-place, we mustpass the city of Balakhan. I know where this cape is. It is notlarge. It juts off into the sea, the Persian Gulf, perhaps half adozen miles. At high tide it becomes an island. None lives aboutexcept the simple fishermen. Still, the journey is hazardous. Thetruth is, it is a spot where there is much gun running; in fact, wherewe found our guns and ammunition. I understand that there are greatsecret stores of explosives hidden there."

"Any seaport near?" asked the colonel.

"Perhaps seventy miles north is the very town we stopped at a few weeksago."

The colonel seized Kathlyn in his arms. She played at gaiety for hissake, but her heart was heavy with foreboding.

"And the filigree basket shall be divided between you and Pundita, Kit."

"Give it all to her, father. I have begun to hate what men callprecious stones."

"It shall be as you say; but we may all take a handful as a keepsake."

Two days later the expedition was ready to start. They intended topick up Ahmed on the way. There was nothing but the bungalow itself atthe camp.

Umballa was thereupon secretly taken from the treadmill. He was givena camel and told what to do. He flung a curse at the minarets andtowers and domes looming mistily in the moonlight. Ransom? He woulddestroy them; aye, and take the treasure himself, since he knew whereit now lay, this information having been obtained for him. He wouldseek the world, choosing his habitation where he would.

Day after day he followed, tireless, indomitable, as steadfast upon thetrail as a jackal after a wounded antelope, never coming within range,skulking about the camp at night, dropping behind in the morning, notabove picking up bits of food left by the treasure seekers. Money andrevenge; these would have kept him to the chase had he been dying.

As for Bala Khan, he was at once glad and sorry to see his friends.Nothing would have pleased him more than to fall upon Allaha like thethunderbolt he was. But he made Ramabai promise that if ever he hadneed of him to send. And Ramabai promised, hoping that he could adjustand regulate his affairs without foreign assistance. They went on,this time with Ahmed.

Toward the end of the journey they would be compelled to cross a chasmon a rope and vine bridge. Umballa, knowing this, circled and reachedthis bridge before they did. He set about weakening the support, sothat the weight of passengers could cause the structure to break andfall into the torrent below. He could not otherwise reach the spotwhere the treasure lay waiting.

The elephants would be forced to ford the rapids below the bridge.

Kathlyn, who had by this time regained much of her old confidence andbuoyancy, declared that she must be first to cross the bridge. Shegained the middle, when she felt a sickening sag. She turned andshouted to the others to go back. She made a desperate effort to reachthe far end, but the bridge gave way, and she was hurled into theswirling rapids. She was stunned for a moment; but the instinct tolive was strong. As she swung to and fro, whirled here, flung there,she managed to catch hold of a rock which projected above the flyingfoam.

A mahout, seeing her danger, urged his elephant toward her and reachedher just as she was about to let go.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE INVINCIBLE WILL

"Those ropes were cut," declared Ahmed.

"But who in the world could have cut them?" demanded the colonel.

Ahmed shrugged. "We may have been followed by thieves. They couldhave got here before us, as we were forced to use the elephant trails.Let us keep our eyes about us, Sahib. When one speaks of gold, thewind carries the word far. And then…" He paused, scowling.

"And then what?"

"I do not want the Mem-sahib to hear," Ahmed whispered. "But who shallsay that this is not the work of the gurus, who never forget, who neverforgive, Sahib."

"But they would not follow!"

"Nay, but their servant would, on the fear of death. I will watch atnight hereafter."

Ahmed searched thoroughly about the ledge from which the east side ofthe bridge had swung, but the barren rocks told him nothing. Armedwith his rifle, he plunged boldly back along the elephant trail, butreturned without success. Whoever was following them was an adept, assecret as a Thuggee. All this worried Ahmed not a little. He readilyunderstood that the murderous attempt had not been directed againstKathlyn alone, but against all of them. But for her eagerness andsubsequent warning some of them would have been dead at this moment.

"Sahib, it would be better to make camp on the other side of the ford.The Mem-sahib is weak from the shock and might collapse if weproceeded."

"I leave everything to you, Ahmed. But is there not some place fartherbelow where the water does not run so fast?"

"Ramabai will know."

But Ramabai knew only the bridge. They would have to investigate andexplore the bank. Half an hour's journey—rather a difficultone—brought them to still and shallow water. Here they crossed andmade camp beyond in a natural clearing. They erected the small tentfor Kathlyn, inside of which she changed her clothes, drank her tea andlay down to sleep.

"What does Ahmed think?" asked Bruce anxiously.

"That we are being followed by some assassins hired by our friends, thepriests."

"Colonel, let us make straight for the seaport and let this damnablebushel of trinkets stay where it is," urged Bruce, the lover.

"That is not possible now," replied Ramabai. "We can now reach thereonly by the seacoast itself, or return to the desert and journey overthe old trail. We must go on."

The colonel smoked his pipe moodily. He was pulled between necessityand desire. He had come to Asia for this filigree basket, and hewanted it, with a passion which was almost miserly. At one moment hesilently vowed to cast the whole thing into the sea, and at the nexthis fingers would twitch and he would sigh.

Sometimes it seemed to him that there was some invisible force workingin him, drawing and drawing him against the dictates of his heart. Hehad experienced this feeling back in California, and had fought againstit for weeks, without avail. And frequently now, when alone andundisturbed, he could see the old guru, shaking with the venom of hiswrath, the blood dripping from his lacerated fingers, which he shook inthe colonel's face flecking it with blood. A curse. It was so. Hemust obey that invincible will; he must go on and on.

His pipe slipped from his fingers and his head fell upon his knees; andthus Kathlyn found him.

"Let him sleep, Mem-sahib," warned Ahmed from across the fire. "He hasbeen fighting the old guru."

"What?" Kathlyn whispered back. "Where?"

Ahmed smiled grimly and pointed toward his forehead.

"Is there really such evil, Ahmed?"

"Evil begets evil, heaven born, just as good begets good. The ColonelSahib did wrong. And who shall deny some of these gurus a supernaturalpower? I have seen; I know."

"But once you said that we should eventually escape, all of us."

"And I still say it, Mem-sahib. What is written is written,"phlegmatically.

Wearily she turned toward her tent, but paused to touch the head of hersleeping father as she passed. Her occidental mind would not and couldnot accept as possibilities these mysterious attributes of the orientalmind. That a will could reach out and prearrange a man's misfortuneswas to her mind incredible, for there were no precedents. She neverhad witnessed a genuine case of hypnotism; those examples she had seenwere miserable buffooneries, travesties, hoodwinking not even thenewsboys in the upper gallery. True, she had sometimes read of suchthings, but from the same angle with which she had read the ArabianNights—fairy stories.

Yet, here was her father, thoroughly convinced of the efficacy of theguru's curse; and here was Ahmed, complacently watching the effects,and not doubting in the least that his guru would in the end prove thestronger of the two.

One of the elephants clanked his chains restlessly. He may have heardthe prowling of a cat. Far beyond the fire, beyond the sentinel, shethought she saw a naked form flash out and back of a tree. She staredintently at the tree for a time; but as she saw nothing more, she wasconvinced that her eyes had deceived her. Besides her body seemed deadand her mind too heavy for thought.

Umballa, having satisfied himself that the camp would not break tillmorning, slunk away into the shadows. He had failed again; but hishate had made him strong. He was naked except for a loin clout. Hisbeard and hair were matted, the latter hanging over his eyes. His bodywas smeared with ashes. Not even Ahmed would have recognized him ayard off. He had something less than nine hours to reach the capebefore they did; and it was necessary that he should have accomplices.The fishermen he knew to be of predatory habits, and the promise ofgold would enmesh them.

The half island which constituted the cape had the shape of a miniaturevolcano. There was verdure at the base of its slope and trees liftedtheir heads here and there hardily. It was a mile long and half a milewide; and in the early morning it stood out like a huge sapphireagainst the rosy sea. Between the land and the promontory there lay astretch of glistening sand; there was half a mile of it. Over this aflock of gulls were busy, as scavengers always are. At high tide,yonder was an island in truth.

Sometimes a British gunboat would drop down here suddenly; but italways wasted its time. The fishermen knew nothing; nothing in the wayof guns and powder ever was found; and yet the British Raj knew thatsomewhere about lay the things for which it so diligently andvigorously sought.

On the beach fishermen were disembarking. A sloop with a lateen saillay at anchor in the rude harbor. Some of the fishermen were repairingnets, and some were tinkering about their fishing boats. Beyond thebeach nestled a few huts. Toward these other fishermen were makingprogress.

The chief of the village—the head man—disembarked from this sloop.He was met by his wife and child, and the little one clambered abouthis legs in ecstasy. Among the huts stood one more imposing than theothers, and toward this the chief and his family wended their way. Infront of the hut stood an empty bullock cart. Attached to one of thewheels was a frisking kid. The little child paused to play with herpet.

Absorbed in her pastime, she did not observe the approach of a gauntbeing with matted hair and beard and ash-besmirched body. Children aregifted with an instinct which leaves us as we grow older; the sensingof evil without seeing or understanding it. The child suddenly gazedup, to meet a pair of eyes black and fierce as a kite's. She rosescreaming and fled toward the house.

The holy man shrugged and waited.

When the parents rushed out to learn what had frightened their littleone they were solemnly confronted by Umballa.

"I am hungry."

The chief salaamed and ordered his wife to bring the holy man rice andmilk.

"Thou art an honest man?" said Umballa.

"It is said," replied the chief gravely.

"Thou art poor?"

"That is with the gods I serve."

"But thou art not without ambition?"

"Who is?" The chief's wonder grew. What meant these peculiarsentences?

"Wouldst put thy hand into gold as far as the wrist and take what thoucouldst hold?"

"Yee, holy one; for I am human. Whither leads these questions? Whatis it you would of me?"

"There are some who need to be far away to see things. Well, good man,there is a treasure under your feet," falling into the vernacular.

The chief could not resist looking down at the ground, startled.

"Nay," smiled Umballa, "not there. Think; did not something unusualhappen here five years ago?"

The chief smoothed the tip of his nose. "My father died and I becamehead man of the village."

"Would you call that unusual?" ironically.

"No. Ha!" suddenly. "Five years ago; yes, yes, I remember now.Soldiers, who made us lock ourselves in our huts, not to stir forth onthe pain of death till ordered. My father alone was permitted outside.He was compelled to row out to the island. There he was blindfolded.Only two men accompanied him. They carried something that was veryheavy. My father never knew what the strange shining basket held.Then the soldiers went away and we came out. No one was allowed on theisland till my father died."

"Did he tell you what it was he helped bury yonder?"

"No, holy one. He was an honorable man. Whatever the secret was, itpassed with him. We were not curious."

"It was the private treasure of the king of Allaha, and the man was theking himself."

The fisherman salaamed.

"And I am sent, because I am holy, to recover this treasure, which waswilled to the temple of Juggernaut."

"And, holy one, I know not where it is hidden!"

"I do. What I want is the use of your sloop and men I can trust. Toyou, as much gold as your hands can hold."

"I will furnish you with men as honest as myself."

"That will be sufficient; and you shall have your gold."

The word of a holy man is never subjected to scrutiny in India.

Umballa was in good humor. Here he was, several hours ahead of hisenemies. He would have the filigree basket dug up and transferred tothe sloop before the Colonel Sahib could reach the village. AndUmballa would have succeeded but for the fact that the wind fellunaccountably and they lost more than an hour in handling the sloopwith oars.

When the sloop left the primitive landing the chief returned to his hutand told his wife what had taken place, like the good husband he was.They would be rich.

Suddenly the child set up a wailing. Through the window she had seen abold leopard trot over to the bullock cart and carry away the kid. Thechief at once summoned his remaining men, and they proceeded to set atrap for the prowler. The cat had already killed one bullock andinjured another. They knew that the beast would not return for somehours, having gorged itself upon the kid. But it was well to beprepared.

Toward noon the other treasure seekers drew up within a quarter of amile behind the village. The men-folk thought it advisable toreconnoiter before entering the village. One never could tell. Winniedeclared her intention of snoozing while they waited, and curled up inher rugs. Kathlyn, however, could not resist the longing to look uponthe sea again. She could see the lovely blue water through the spacesbetween the trees. Soon she would be flying over that water, flyingfor home, home!

She went farther from the camp than she really intended, and cameunexpectedly upon the leopard which stood guarding its cubs while theygrowled and tore at the dead kid. Kathlyn realized that she wasunarmed, and that the leopard was between her and the camp. She couldsee the roofs of the village below her; so toward the huts she ran.The leopard stood still for a while, eying her doubtfully, then made upits mind to give chase. She had tasted blood, but had not eaten.

Meantime the little child had forgot her loss in her interest in thebullock cart with its grotesque lure; and she climbed into the cartjust as Kathlyn appeared, followed by the excited leopard. She saw thechild and snatched her instinctively from the cart. The leopard leapedinto the cart at the rear, while Kathlyn ran toward the chief's hut,into which she staggered without the formality of announcing her advent.

The father of the child had no need to question, though he marveled atthe white skin and dress of this visitor, who had doubtless saved hischild from death. He flung the door shut and dropped the bar. Next hesought his gun and fired through a crack in the door. He missed; butthe noise and smoke frightened the leopard away.

And later, Bruce, wild with the anxiety over the disappearance ofKathlyn, came across the chief battling for his life. He had goneforth to hunt the leopard, and the leopard had hunted him. Bruce darednot fire, for fear of killing the man; so without hesitance or fear hecaught the leopard by the back of the neck and by a hind leg and swungher into the sea.

The chief was severely mauled, but he was able to get to his feet andwalk. The white woman had saved his child and the white man had savedhim. He would remember.

Thus the leopard quite innocently served a purpose, for all her deadlyintentions; the chief was filled with gratitude.

When the colonel and the others came into view the former seizedKathlyn by the shoulders and shook her hysterically.

"In God's name, Kit, don't you know any better than to wander offalone? Do you want to drive me mad?"

"Why, father, I wasn't afraid!"

"Afraid? Who said anything about your being afraid? Didn't you knowthat we were being followed? It is Umballa! Ah! that gives you astart!"

"Colonel!" said Bruce gently.

"I know, Bruce, I sound harsh. But you were tearing your hair, too."

"Forgive me," cried Kathlyn, penitent, for she knew she had done wrong."I did not think. But Umballa?"

"Yes, Umballa. One of the keepers found a knife by that bridge, andRamabai identified it as belonging to Umballa. Whether he is alone orwith many, I do not know; but this I do know: we must under nocirc*mstances become separated again. Now, I'm going to quiz thechief."

But the chief said that no person described had passed or been seen.No one but a holy man had come that morning, and he had gone to theisland in the sloop.

"For what?"

The chief smiled, but shook his head.

"Was it not a basket of gold and precious stones?" demanded the colonel.

The chief's eyes widened. There were others who knew, then? Brucenoticed his surprise.

"Colonel, show the good chief the royal seal on your document."

The colonel did so, and the chief salaamed when he saw the royalsignature. He was mightily bewildered, and gradually he was made tounderstand that he had been vilely tricked.

"To the boats!" he shouted, as if suddenly awakening. "We may be toolate, Lords! He said he was a holy man, and I believed."

They all ran hastily down to the beach to seize what boats they could.Here they met a heartrending obstacle in the refusal of the owners.The chief, however, signified that it was his will; and, moreover, hecommanded that the fishermen should handle the oars. They would bepaid. That was different. Why did not the white people say so atonce? They would go anywhere for money. Not the most auspicious sign,thought Ramabai. They got into the boats and pushed off.

On the way to the island the colonel consulted the map, or diagram, heheld in his hand. It was not possible that Umballa knew the exact spot.

A filigree basket of silver, filled with gold and gems! The man becameas eager and excited as a boy. The instinct to hunt for treasurebegins just outside the cradle and ends just inside the grave.

To return to Umballa. Upon landing, he asked at once if any knew wherethe cave was. One man did know the way, but he refused to show it.There were spirits there, ruled by an evil god.

"Take me there, you, and I will enter without harm. Am I not holy?"

That put rather a new face upon the situation. If the holy man waswilling to risk an encounter with the god, far be it that they shouldprevent him. An ordinary seeker would not have found the entrance in alifetime. Umballa had not known exactly where the cave was, but heknew all that the cave contained. When they came to it Umballasniffed; the tang of sulphur became evident both in his nose and on histongue. He understood. It was simply a small spring, a mineral, inwhich sulphur predominated. He came out with some cupped in his hands.He drank and showed them that it was harmless. Besides, he was a holyman, and his presence made ineffectual all evil spirits which mightroam within the cave.

Umballa, impatient as he was, had to depend upon patience. By dint ofinquiries he learned that wild Mohammedans had cast the spell upon thecave, set a curse upon its threshold. Umballa tottered and destroyedthis by reasoning that the curse of a Mohammedan could not affect aHindu. Finally, he offered each and all of them a fortune—and won.

Torches were lighted and the cave entered. There were many sidepassages; and within these the astute Umballa saw the true reason forthe curse of the Mohammedans: guns and powder, hundreds and hundreds ofpounds of black destruction! A lower gallery—the mouth of which layunder a slab of rock—led to the pit wherein rested the filigreebasket.… For a time Umballa acted like a madman. He sang,chanted, dug his hands into the gold and stones; choked, sobbed. Herewas true kingship; the private treasures of a dozen decades, all hisfor the taking. He forgot his enemies and their nearness as thefortune revealed itself to him.

As his men at length staggered out of the lower gallery with the basketslung upon an improvised litter he espied his enemies marching up thehill! Back into the cave again. Umballa cursed and bit his nails. Hewas unarmed, as were his men, and he had not time to search among thesmuggled arms to find his need.

"Heaven born," spoke up the man who had known where the cave was,"there is an exit on the other side. We can go through that withoutyonder people noticing us."

"A fortune for each of you when you put this on the sloop!"

Back through the cave they rushed, torches flaring. Once a bearerstumbled over a powder can, and the torch holder all but sprawled overhim. Umballa's hair stood on end. Fear impelled the men toward theexit.

"There is powder enough here to blow up all of Hind! Hasten!"

At the mouth of the exit the men with the torches, finding no furtherneed of them, carelessly flung them aside.

"Fools!" roared Umballa; "you have destroyed us!"

He fled. The bearers followed with the burden. Down the side of thepromontory they slid. Under a projecting ledge they paused, sweatingwith terror. Suddenly the whole island rocked. An explosion followedthat was heard half a hundred miles away, where the gunboat of theBritish Raj patrolled the shores. Rocks, trees, sand filled the air,and small fires broke out here and there. The bulk of the damage,however, was done to the far side of the promontory, not where thefrightened Umballa stood. A twisted rifle barrel fell at his feet.

"To the sloop!" he yelled. "It is all over!"

On the far side the other treasure seekers stood huddled together,scarce knowing which way to turn. The miracle of it was that none ofthem was hurt. Perhaps a quarter of an hour passed before theirfaculties awoke.

"Look!" cried Kathlyn, pointing seaward.

What she saw was Umballa, setting adrift the boats which had broughtthem from the mainland.

Came a second explosion, far more furious than the first. In thedownward rush Kathlyn stumbled and fell, the debris falling all abouther.

CHAPTER XXV

ON THE SLOOP

Blinded by the dust, tripped by the rolling stones, Bruce turned towhere he had seen Kathlyn fall. The explosion—the last one—hadopened up veins of strange gases, for the whole promontory appeared tobe on fire. He bent and caught up in his arms the precious burden,staggered down to the beach, and plunged into the water. A smalltrickle of blood flowing down her forehead explained everything; afalling stone had struck her.

"Kit, Kit! I hope to God the treasure went up also." He dashed thecold water into her face.

The others were unhurt, though dazed, and for the nonce incapable ofcoherent thought or action.

"The boats!" Bruce laid Kathlyn down on the sand and signed to Winnie."Tend to her. I must take a chance at the boats. We could cross theneck of sand at ebb, but Umballa will be far away before that time.Kit, Kit; my poor girl!" He patted her wrists and called to her, andwhen finally her lips stirred he rose and waded out into the sea,followed by four hardy fishermen. The freshening breeze, being fromthe southwest, aided the swimmers, for the boats did not drift out tosea, but in a northeasterly direction. The sloop was squaring away forthe mainland.

Did Umballa have the treasure? Bruce wondered, as at length his handreached up and took hold of the gunwale of the boat he had picked outto bring down. Would Umballa have possessed tenacity enough to hang onto it in face of all the devastation? Bruce sighed as he drew himselfup and crawled into the boat. He knew that treasure had often made ahero out of a coward; and treasure at that moment meant life andliberty to Umballa. On his return to the island he greeted the colonelsomewhat roughly. But for this accursed basket they would have beenwell out of Asia by this time.

"Umballa has your basket, Colonel. If he hasn't, then say good-by toit, for it can never be dug from under those tons and tons ofrock.… Here! where are those fishermen going?" he demanded.

The men were in the act of pushing off with the boats, which they hadonly just brought back.

Ramabai picked up his discarded rifle.

"Stop!"

"They are frightened," explained the chief.

"Well, they can contain their fright till we are in safety," Ramabaideclared. "Warn them."

"Hurry, everybody! I feel it in my bones that that black devil has thetreasure. Get those men into the boats. Here, pick up those oars.Get in, Kit; you, Winnie; come, everybody!"

Kathlyn gazed sadly at her father. Treasure, treasure; that first.She was beginning to hate the very sound of the word. The colonel hadbeen nervous, impatient and irritable ever since the document had beendiscovered. Till recently Kathlyn had always believed her father to beperfect, but now she saw that he was human, he had his flawed spot.Treasure! Before her or Winnie! So be it.

"Colonel," said Bruce, taking a chance throw, "we are less than ahundred miles from the seaport. Suppose we let Umballa clear out andwe ourselves head straight up the coast? It is not fair to the womento put them to any further hardship."

"Bruce, I have sworn to God that Umballa shall not have that treasure.Ramabai, do you understand what it will mean to you if he succeeds inreaching Allaha with that treasure, probably millions? He will be ableto buy every priest and soldier in Allaha and still have enough leftfor any extravagance that he may wish to plunge in."

"Sahib," suggested Ramabai, "let us send the women to the seaport incare of Ahmed, while we men seek Umballa."

"Good!" Bruce struck his hands together. "The very thing."

"I refuse to be separated from father," declared Kathlyn. "If he isdetermined to pursue Umballa back to Allaha, I must accompany him."

"And I!" added Winnie.

"Nothing more to be said," and Bruce signed to the boatmen to start."If only this breeze had not come up! We could have caught him beforehe made shore."

Umballa paced the deck of the sloop, thinking and planning. He saw hisenemies leaving in the rescued boats. Had he delayed them long enough?As matters stood, he could not carry away the treasure. He must havehelp, an armed force of men he could trust. On the mainland were Ahmedand the loyal keepers; behind were three men who wanted his life as hewanted theirs. The only hope he had lay in the cupidity of the men onthe sloop. If they could be made to stand by him, there was a fairchance. Once he was of a mind to heave the basket over the rail andtrust to luck in finding it again. But the thought tore at his heart.He simply could not do it.

Perhaps he could start a revolt, or win over the chief of the village.He had known honest men to fall at the sight of much gold, to fight forit, to commit any crime for it—and, if need be, to die for it. Butthe chief was with his enemies. Finally he came to the conclusion thatthe only thing to be done was to carry the treasure directly to thechief's hut and there await him. He would bribe the men with himsufficiently to close their mouths. If Ahmed was on the shore, thegame was up. But he swept the mainland with his gaze and discovered nosign of him.

As a matter of fact, Ahmed had arranged his elephants so that theycould start at once up the coast to the seaport. He was waiting on thenative highway for the return of his master, quite confident that hewould bring the bothersome trinkets with him. He knew nothing ofUmballa's exploit. The appalling thunder of the explosions worriedhim. He would wait for just so long; then he would go and see.

Every village chief has his successor in hope. This individual was oneof those who had helped Umballa to carry the treasure from the cave; infact, the man who had guided him to the cave itself. He spoke toUmballa. He said that he understood the holy one's plight; for tothese yet simple minded village folk Umballa was still the holy one.Their religion was the same.

"Holy one," he said, "we can best your enemies who follow."

"How?" eagerly.

"Yonder is the chief's bullock cart. I myself will find the bullocks!"

"What then?"

"We shall be on the way south before the others land."

"An extra handful of gold for you! Get the oars out! Let us hurry!"

"More, holy one; these men will obey me."

"They shall be well paid."

Umballa had reached the point where he could not plan withouttreachery. He proposed to carry the basket into the jungle somewhere,bury it and make way with every man who knew the secret; then, at theproper time, he would return for it with a brave caravan, his own menor those whose loyalty he could repurchase.

The landing was made, the basket conveyed to the bullock cart, whichwas emptied of its bait and leopard trap; the bullocks were brought outand harnessed—all this activity before the fishing boats had coveredhalf the distance.

"I see light," murmured Umballa.

He tried to act coolly, but when he spoke his voice cracked and theblood in his throat nigh suffocated him.

"Sand, holy one!"

"Well, what of sand?"

"You can dig and cover up things in sand and no one can possibly tell.The sand tells nothing."

They drove the bullocks forward mercilessly till they came to whatUmballa considered a suitable spot. A pit was dug, but not beforeUmballa had taken from the basket enough gold to set the men wild.They were his. He smiled inwardly to think how easily they could havehad all of it! They were still honest.

The sand was smoothed down over the basket. It would not have beenpossible for the human eye to discover the spot within a perfect range.Umballa drove down a broken stick directly over where the basket lay.He had beaten them; they would find nothing. Now to rid himself ofthese simple fools who trusted him.

The man who longed to become the chief's successor was then played uponby Umballa; to set the two factions at each other's throats; a perfectelimination. Umballa advised him to rouse his friends, declare thatthe white people had taken the gold away from the holy man, to whom itbelonged as agent.

Thus, in this peaceful fishermen's village began the old game of goldand politics, for the two are inseparable. Umballa, in hiding, watchedthe contest gleefully. He witnessed the rival approach his chief, sawthe angry gestures exchanged, and knew that dissension had begun. Themen of the village clustered about.

"Where have you hidden it?" demanded the chief. "It belongs to theSahib."

"Hidden what?"

"The treasure you and the false holy one took from the forbidden cave!"

"False holy one?"

"Ay, wretch! He is Durga Ram, the man who murdered the king of Allaha."

The mutineer laughed and waved his hand toward the smoking ruins of thepromontory.

"Look for it there," he said, "under mountains of rock and dirt andsand. Look for it there! And who is this white man who says the holyone is false?"

"I say it, you scoundrel!" cried the colonel, advancing; but Brucerestrained him, seeing that the situation had taken an unpleasant andsinister trend.

"Patience, Colonel; just a little diplomacy," he urged.

"But the man lies!"

"That may be, but just at present there seem to be more men standingback of him than back of our chief here. We have no way of getting awarning to Ahmed. Wait!"

"Jackal," spoke the chief wrathfully, "thou liest!"

"Ah! thou hast grown too fat with rule."

"Ay!" cried the men back of the mutinous one.

"Sahib," said the chief, without losing any of his natural dignity,"the man has betrayed me. I see the lust of gold in their eyes. Evilpresage. But you have saved the life of my child and mine, and I willthrow my strength with you."

"Father, can't you see?" asked Kathlyn.

"See what?"

"The inevitable. It was in my heart all the way here that we shouldmeet with disaster. There is yet time to leave here peacefully."

But her pleading fell upon the ears of a man who was treasure mad. Hewould not listen to reason. Ahmed could have told Kathlyn that the oldguru stood back of her father, pushing, pushing.

"He is mad," whispered Bruce, "but we can not leave him."

"What would I do without you, John!"

From down the beach the chief's little girl came toddling to the groupof excited men. She was clutching something in her hand. Her fathertook her by the arm and pulled her back of him. Kathlyn put her handupon the child's head, protectingly. The child gazed up shyly, openedher little hand… and disclosed a yellow sovereign!

The argument between the chief and his mutinous followers went on.

"John," said Kathlyn, "you speak the dialect. I can understand only aword here and there. But listen. Tell the chief that all we desire isto be permitted to depart in peace later," she added significantly.

"What's up?"

"The child has a coin—a British sovereign—in her hand. She knowswhere Umballa has secreted the treasure. Since father can not bebudged from his purpose, let us try deceit. You speak to the chiefwhile I explain to father."

To the chief Bruce said: "The treasure is evidently lost. So, after ashort rest, we shall return to our caravan and depart. We do not wishto be the cause of trouble between you and your people."

"But, Sahib, they have the gold!"

"The false holy one doubtless gave them that before the explosion."Bruce laid hold of his arm in a friendly fashion apparently, but inreality as a warning. "All we want is a slight rest in your house.After that we shall proceed upon our journey."

The mutineers could offer no reasonable objections to this andsignified that it was all one to them so long as the white peopledeparted. They had caused enough damage by their appearance and itmight be that it was through their agency that the promontory was allbut destroyed. The fish would be driven away for weeks. And whatwould the fierce gun-runners say when they found out that their storeshad gone up in flame and smoke? Ai, ai! What would they do but beatthem and torture them for permitting any one to enter the cave?

"When these men come," answered the chief, with a dry smile, "I willdeal with them. None of us has entered the cave. They know me for aman of truth. Perhaps you are right," he added to the mutineer."There could not have been a treasure there and escape the sharp eyesof those Arabs. Go back to your homes. These white people shall be myguests till they have rested and are ready to depart."

Reluctantly the men dispersed, and from his hiding-place Umballa sawanother of his schemes fall into pieces. There would be no fight, atleast for the present. The men, indeed, had hoped to come to actualwarfare, but they could not force war on their chief without some goodcause. After all, the sooner the white people were out of the way thebetter for all concerned.

Did the leader of this open mutiny have ulterior designs upon thetreasure, upon the life of Umballa? Perhaps. At any rate, events soshaped themselves as to nullify whatever plans he had formed in hisgold-dazzled brain.

The colonel was tractable and fell in with Kathlyn's idea. It wouldhave been nothing short of foolhardiness openly to have antagonized therebellious men.

"You have a plan, Kit, but what is it?"

"I dare not tell you here. You are too excited. But I believe I canlead you to where Umballa has buried the basket. I feel that Umballais watching every move we make. And I dare say he hoped—and eveninstigated—this mutiny to end in disaster for us. He is alone. Somuch we can rely upon. But if we try to meet him openly we shall lose.Patience for a little while. There, they are leaving us. They aregrumbling, but I do not believe that means anything serious."

"Now, then, white people," said the chief, "come to my house. You arewelcome there, now and always. You have this day saved my life andthat of my child. I am grateful."

Inside the hut Kathlyn drew the child toward her and gently pressedopen the tightly clutched fingers. She plucked the sovereign from thelittle pink palm and held it up. The child's father seized it,wonderingly.

"Gold! They lied to me! I knew it."

"Yes," said Bruce. "They did find the treasure. They brought it hereand buried it quickly. And we believe your little girl knows where.Question her."

It was not an easy matter. The child was naturally shy, and thepresence of all these white skinned people struck her usually babblingtongue with a species of paralysis. But her father was patient, andword by word the secret was dragged out of her. She told of the stolenbullock cart, of the digging in the sand, of the holy one.

In some manner they must lure Umballa from his retreat. It was finallyagreed upon that they all return to the camp and steal back at once ina roundabout way. They would come sufficiently armed. Later, thechief could pretend to be walking with his child.

So while Umballa stole forth from his hiding-place, reasonably certainthat his enemies had gone, got together his mutineers and madearrangements with them to help him carry away the treasure that night,the rightful owners were directed to the broken stick in the damp sand.

That night, when Umballa and his men arrived, a hole in the sandgreeted them. It was shaped like a mouth, opened in laughter.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE THIRD BAR

It was Ahmed's suggestion that they in turn should bury the filigreebasket. He reasoned that if they attempted to proceed with it theywould be followed and sooner or later set upon by Umballa and the menhe had won away from the village chief. The poor fishermen were goldmad and at present not accountable for what they did or planned to do.He advanced that Umballa would have no difficulty in rousing them tothe pitch of murder. Umballa would have at his beck and call no lessthan twenty men, armed and ruthless. Some seventy miles beyond wasBritish territory and wherever there was British territory there wereBritish soldiers. With them they would return, leaving the women insafety behind.

"The commissioner there will object," said the colonel.

"No, Sahib," replied Ahmed. "The Mem-sahib has every right in theworld to this treasure. You possess the documents to prove it, andnothing more would be necessary to the commissioner."

"But, Ahmed," interposed Bruce, "we are none of us British subjects."

"What difference will that make, Sahib?"

"Quite enough. England is not in the habit of protecting anybody buther own subjects. We should probably be held up till everything wasverified at Allaha; and the priests there would not hesitate to chargeus with forgery and heaven knows what else. Let us bury the basket, byall means, return for it and carry it away piecemeal. To carry it awayas it is, in bulk, would be courting suicide."

Ahmed scratched his chin. Trust a white man for logic.

"And, besides," went on Bruce, "the news would go all over the Orientand the thugs would come like flies scenting honey. No; this must bekept secret if we care to get away with it. It can not be worth lessthan a million. And I've known white men who would cut our throats fora handful of rupees."

For the first time since the expedition started out the colonel becamenormal, a man of action, cool in the head, and foresighted.

"Ahmed, spread out the men around the camp," he ordered briskly."Instruct them to shoot over the head of any one who approaches; thisthe first time. The second time, to kill. Bruce has the right idea;so let us get busy. Over there, where that boulder is. The groundwill be damp and soft under it, and when we roll it back there will beno sign of its having been disturbed. I used to cache ammunition thatway. Give me that spade."

It was good to Kathlyn's ears to hear her father talk like this.

At a depth of three feet the basket was lowered, covered and theboulder rolled into place. After that the colonel stooped and combedthe turf where the boulder had temporarily rested. He showed hiswoodcraft there. It would take a keener eye than Umballa possessed tonote any disturbance. The safety of the treasure ultimately, however,depended upon the loyalty of the keepers under Ahmed. They had beenwith the colonel for years; yet… The colonel shrugged. He had totrust them; that was all there was to the matter.

A sentinel came rushing up—one of the keepers.

"Something is stampeding the elephants!" he cried.

Ahmed and the men with him rushed off. In Ahmed's opinion, consideringwhat lay before them, elephants were more important than colored stonesand yellow metal. Without the elephants they would indeed findthemselves in sore straits.

"Let us move away from here," advised Bruce, picking up the implementsand shouldering them. He walked several yards away, tossed shovel andpick into the bushes, tore at the turf and stamped on it, giving itevery appearance of having been disturbed. The colonel noddedapprovingly. It was a good point and he had overlooked it.

They returned hastily to camp, which was about two hundred yards beyondthe boulder. Kathlyn entered her tent to change her clothes, ragged,soiled and burned. The odor of wet burned cloth is never agreeable.And she needed dry shoes, even if there was but an hour or two beforebedtime.

Only one elephant had succeeded in bolting. In some manner he hadloosed his peg; but what had started him on the run they never learned.The other elephants were swaying uneasily; but their pegs were deep andtheir chains stout. Ahmed and the keepers went after the truant onfoot.

The noise of the chase died away. Bruce was lighting his pipe. Thecolonel was examining by the firelight a few emeralds which he hadtaken from the basket. Ramabai was pleasantly gazing at his wife.Kathlyn and Winnie were emerging from the tent, when a yell greetedtheir astonished ears. The camp was surrounded. From one side cameUmballa, from the other came the mutineers. Kathlyn and Winnie flew totheir father's side. In between came Umballa, with Bruce and Ramabaiand Pundita effectually separated. Umballa and his men closed in uponthe colonel and his daughters. Treasure and revenge!

Bruce made a furious effort to join Kathlyn, but the numbers againsthim were too many. It was all done so suddenly and effectually, andall due to their own carelessness.

"Kit," said her father, "our only chance is to refuse to discover toUmballa where we have hidden the basket. Winnie, if you open your lipsit will be death—yours, Kit's, mine. To have been careless like this!Oh, Kit, on my honor, if Umballa would undertake to convoy us to theseaport I'd gladly give him all the treasure and all the money I haveof my own. But we know him too well. He will torture us all."

"I have gone through much; I can go through more," calmly repliedKathlyn. "But I shall never wear a precious stone again, if I live. Iabhor them!"

"I am my father's daughter," said Winnie.

"Put the howdahs on the two elephants," Umballa ordered.

The men obeyed clumsily, being fishermen by occupation and mahouts bycompulsion.

Kathlyn tried in vain to see where they were taking Bruce and theothers. Some day, if she lived, she was going to devote a whole day toweeping, for she never had time to in this land. The thought causedher to smile, despite her despair.

When the elephants were properly saddled with the howdahs Umballa gavehis attention to the prisoners. He hailed them jovially. They wereold friends. What could he do for them?

"Conduct us to the seaport," said the colonel, "and on my word of honorI will tell you where we have hidden the treasure."

"Ho!" jeered Umballa, arms akimbo, "I'd be a fool to put my head intosuch a trap. I love you too well. Yet I am not wholly without heart.Tell me where it lies and I will let you go."

"Cut our throats at once, you beast, for none of us will tell you underany conditions save those I have named. Men," the colonel continued,"this man is an ingrate, a thief and a murderer. He has promised youmuch gold for your part in this. But in the end he will cheat you anddestroy you."

Umballa laughed. "They have already had their earnest. Soon they willhave more. But talk with them—plead, urge, promise. No morequestions? Well, then, listen. Reveal to me the treasure and you maygo free. If you refuse I shall take you back to Allaha—not publicly,but secretly—there to inflict what punishments I see fit."

"I have nothing more to say," replied the colonel.

"No? And thou, white goddess?"

Kathlyn stared over his head, her face expressionless. It stirred himmore than outspoken contempt would have done.

"And you, pretty one?" Umballa eyed Winnie speculatively.

Winnie drew closer to her sister, that was all.

"So be it. Allaha it shall be, without a meddling Ramabai; back to thegurus who love you so!" He dropped his banter. "You call me amurderer. I admit it. I have killed the man who was always throwinghis benefits into my face, who brought me up not as a companion but asa plaything. He is dead. I slew him. After the first, what are twoor three more crimes of this order?" He snapped his fingers. "I wantthat treasure, and you will tell me where it is before I am done withyou. You will tell me on your knees, gladly, gladly! Now, men! Thereis a long journey before us."

The colonel, Kathlyn and Winnie were forced into one howdah, whileUmballa mounted the other. As for the quasi-mahouts, they were notparticularly happy behind the ears of the elephants, who, with thatkeen appreciation of their herd, understood instinctively that they hadto do with novices. But for the promise of gold that dangled beforetheir eyes, threats of violent death could not have forced them uponthe elephants.

They started east, and the jungle closed in behind them.

As for Umballa, he cared not what became of the other prisoners.

They were being held captive in one of the village huts. The chief hadpleaded in vain. He was dishonored, for they had made him break hisword to the white people. So be it. Sooner or later the glitter ofgold would leave their eyes and they would come to him and beg forpardon.

Moonlight. The village slept. Two fishermen sat before the hutconfining the prisoners, on guard. An elephant squealed in thedistance. Out of the shadow a sleek leopard, then another. The guardsjumped to their feet and scrambled away for dear life to the nearesthut, crying the alarm. Bruce opened the door, which had no lock, andpeered forth. It was natural that the leopards should give theirimmediate attention to the two men in flight. Bruce, realizing whathad happened, called softly to Ramabai and Pundita; and the three ofthem stole out into the night, toward the camp. Bruce did not expectto find any one there. What he wanted was to arm himself and toexamine the boulder.

Meantime, Ahmed returned with the truant elephant to find nothing butdisorder and evidence of a struggle. A tent was overturned, the longgrass trampled, and the colonel's sola-topee hat lay crumpled nearKathlyn's tent.

"Ai, ai!" he wailed. But, being a philosopher, his wailing was ofshort duration. He ran to the boulder and examined it carefully. Ithad not been touched. That was well. At least that meant that hisSahib and Mem-sahib lived. Treasure! He spat out a curse… andthrew his rifle to his shoulder. But his rage turned to joy as hediscovered who the arrivals were.

"Bruce Sahib!"

"Yes, Ahmed. Umballa got the best of us. We were tricked by thetruant elephant. He has taken Kathlyn back toward Allaha."

"And so shall we return!"

Ahmed called his weary men. His idea was to fill the elephantsaddle-bags with gold and stones, leave it in trust with Bala Khan, whoshould in truth this time take his tulwar down from the wall. Hedivided his men, one company to guard and the other to labor. It tookhalf an hour to push back the boulder and dig up the basket. Afterthis was done Bruce and Ramabai and Ahmed the indefatigable carried thegold and precious stones to the especially made saddle-bags. All told,it took fully an hour to complete the work.

With water and food, and well armed, they began the journey back toAllaha, a formidable cortege and in no tender mood. They proceeded inforced marches, snatching what sleep they could during the preparationof the meals.

Many a time the impulse came to Bruce to pluck the shining metal andsparkling stones from the saddle-bags and toss them out into thejungle, to be lost till the crack of doom. There were also momentswhen he felt nothing but hatred toward the father of the girl he loved.For these trinkets Kathlyn had gone through tortures as frightfulalmost as those in the days of the Inquisition. Upon one thing he andAhmed had agreed, despite Ramabai's wild protest; they would leave thetreasure with Bala Khan and follow his army to the walls of Allaha. Ifharm befell any of their loved ones not one stone should remain uponanother. And Bruce declared that he would seek Umballa to the ends ofthe earth for the infinite pleasure of taking his black throat in histwo hands and squeezing the life out of it.

Eventually and without mishap they came to the walled city of thedesert, Bala Khan's stronghold. Bala Khan of necessity was alwaysready, always prepared. Before night of the day of their arrival anarmy was gathered within the city.

Ramabai sat in his howdah, sad and dispirited.

"Bala Khan, we have been friends, and my father was your good friend."

"It is true."

"Will you do a favor for the son?"

"Yes. If the Colonel Sahib and his daughter live, ask what you will."

Ramabai bowed.

"I will set my camp five miles beyond your walls and wait. When I seethe Mem-sahib I will salaam, turn right about face, and go home. Now,to you, Bruce Sahib: Leave not your treasure within my walls when Ishall be absent, for I can not guarantee protection. Leave it where itis and bring it with you. Save myself, no one of my men knows whatyour saddle-bags contain. Let us proceed upon our junket—or our war!"

Umballa reached the ancient gate of Allaha at the same time Brucestopped before the walls of Bala Khan's city. He determined to wringthe secret from either the colonel or his daughter, return for thetreasure and depart for Egypt down the Persian Gulf.

He made a wide detour and came out at the rear of his house. No onewas in sight. He dismounted and entered, found three or four of hiswhilom slaves, who, when he revealed his identity, felt the old terrorand fear of the man. His prisoners were brought in. A slave took theelephants to the stables. He wanted to run away and declare Umballa'spresence, but fear was too strong.

Ironically Umballa bade the fishermen to enter to eat and drink whatthey liked. Later he found them in a drunken stupor in the kitchen.That was where they belonged.

He ordered his prisoners to be brought into the Court of Death and leftthere.

"You see?" said Umballa. "Now, where have you hidden the treasure?"

Kathlyn walked over to one of the cages and peered into it. A sleektiger trotted up to the bar; and purred and invited her to scratch hishead.

"I am not answered," said Umballa.

A click resounded from the four sides, and a bar disappeared from eachof the cages.

"That will be all for the present," said Umballa. "Food and water youwill not require. To-morrow morning another bar will be removed."

And he left them.

Early the next morning the town began to seethe in the squares. BalaKhan's army lay encamped outside the city!

When Bruce, Ramabai, Pundita and Ahmed halted their elephants beforethe temple they were greeted by the now terrified priests who begged tobe informed what Bala Khan proposed to do.

"Deliver to us the Mem-sahib."

The priests swore by all their gods that they knew nothing of her.

"Let us enter the temple," said Ramabai. "Ahmed, bring the treasureand leave it in the care of the priests." A few moments later Ramabaiaddressed the assemblage. "Bala Khan is hostile, but only for the sakeof his friends. He lays down this law, however—obey it or disobey it.The Colonel Sahib and his daughters are to go free, to do what theyplease with the treasure. Pundita, according to the will of the lateking, shall be crowned."

The high priest held up his hand for silence. "We obey, on onecondition—that the new queen shall in no manner interfere with her oldreligion nor attempt to force her new religion into the temple."

To this Pundita agreed.

"Ramabai, soldiers! To the house of Umballa! We shall find himthere," cried Ahmed.

Umballa squatted upon his cushions on the terrace. The second bar hadbeen removed. The beasts were pressing their wet nozzles to theopenings and growling deep challenges.

"Once more, and for the last time, will you reveal the hiding-place ofthe treasure?"

Not a word from the prisoners.

"The third bar!"

But it did not stir.

"The third bar; remove it!"

The slave who had charge of the mechanism which operated the barsrefused to act.

The events which followed were of breathless rapidity. Ramabai andUmballa met upon the parapet in a struggle which promised death or thetreadmill to the weaker. At the same time Bruce opened the door to theCourt of Death as the final bar dropped in the cage. At the sight ofhim the colonel and his daughters rushed to the door. Roughly hehurled them outside, slamming the iron door, upon which the infuriatedtigers flung themselves.

The young newspaper man to whom Winnie was engaged and the grizzledAhmed sat on the steps of the bungalow in California one pleasantafternoon. The pipe was cold in the hand of the reporter and Ahmed'scigar was dead, which always happens when one recounts an exciting taleand another listens. Among the flower beds beyond two young womenwandered, followed by a young man in pongee, a Panama set carelesslyupon his handsome head, his face brown, his build slender but round andmuscular.

"And that, Sahib, is the story," sighed Ahmed.

"And Kathlyn gave the treasures to the poor of Allaha? That was fine."

"You have said."

"They should have hanged this Umballa."

"No, Sahib. Death is grateful. It is not a punishment; it is peace.But Durga Ram, called Umballa, will spend the remainder of his days inthe treadmill, which is a concrete hell, not abstract."

"Do you think England will ever step in?"

"Perhaps. But so long as Pundita rules justly, so long as her consortabets her, England will not move. Perhaps, if one of them dies.…There! the maids are calling you. And I will go and brew the ColonelSahib's tea."