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A parchment in Hindustani, given jestingly or ironically by a humorous old chap in orders and white linen and rhinoceros sandals. . . . A throne! Pshaw! It was bally nonsense. As if a white man could rule over a brown one by the choice of the latter! And yet, that man Umballa's face, when he had shown the king the portraits of his two lovely daughters! He would send Ahmed.
Between the announcement and the fulfilment of these remarkable proceedings 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 as it was stern. Umballa's last card, had she but known the treachery which had lured her to this mystic shore.
I'm dazed." In the city few knew anything about Ahmed, not even the keenest of Umballa's spies. Umballa had his suspicions, but as yet he could prove nothing. To the populace he was a harmless animal trainer who was only too glad not in any way to be implicated with his master. So they let him alone.
A dark frown began to settle over Umballa's face. If the colonel refused the last candidate for nuptial honors, he should die. But as Ramabai lifted the veil of this last woman the colonel nodded sharply; and Kathlyn, for a brief space, gazed into her father's eyes. The same thought occurred to both; what a horrible mockery it all was, and where would it lead finally?
"I have had a dream, Sahib," answered Ramabai, still smiling. "Umballa will 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 the last of Umballa's soldiers disappeared whence they had come, "I should feel content."
Everything went forward without a hitch; so smoothly that had the object of her visit been other than Winnie, Kathlyn must have sensed something unusual. She entered the palace and even led the way to Winnie's chamber a fact which appeared natural enough to the women about, but which truly alarmed Umballa's spy, who immediately set off in search of the man.
Umballa sank to his knees and then fought madly to rise but the hands at his throat were the hands of a madman, steel, resistless. The colonel's chains clinked sharply. Lower and lower went Umballa's head; he saw death peering into the cell. His cry rattled in his throat. Not a sound from Kathlyn. She watched the battle, unfeeling as marble.
The populace howled and cheered about her palanquin to the very gates. Not in many a big rain had they had such excitement. The fury in Umballa's heart might have disquieted Bruce had he known of its existence. Kathlyn, arriving in her chamber, flung herself down upon her cushions and lay there like one dead, nor would she be comforted by the worshiping Pundita.
The Oriental dislikes work; and any one who could invent means of avoiding it was worthy of gratitude. So, then, the populace fell in with Umballa's scheme agreeably. The bhang and betel and toddy sellers did a fine business during the festival of Rama. There was merrymaking in the streets, day and night. The temples and mosques were filled to overflowing.
When the day came the Khan insisted that his guests should use his own camels and servants, and upon Ramabai's return the elephants would be turned over to him for his journey back to Allaha. Thus, one bright morning, the caravan set forth for what was believed to be the last journey. And Umballa's spy hastened away.
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