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Updated: June 1, 2025
Precious rigmarole of some sort. The facts!" "She is also the young lady who traveled in the same boat from Hongkong to Singapore." Ramabai paused to see the effect of this information. Bruce lowered his fork slowly. The din about him dwindled away into nothing.
The chief called to his men to seize Ramabai and Pundita, when Kathlyn interfered. "Go, Ramabai; it is useless to fight against these men who mean all they 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, disturbed in mind.
He greeted Ramabai cordially, struck his hands and ordered out the servants to take charge of what luggage there was and to lead away the elephants to be fed and watered. Courteously he asked Kathlyn how she had become injured and Ramabai acted as interpreter.
They were the best mannered of the half dozen owned or rented by Colonel Hare. Mahouts sat astride. Rifles reposed in the side sheaths. This was to be no light adventure. There might be a small warfare. Pundita flung her arms around Ramabai, and he consoled her. She was then led away to the colonel's camp. "Remember," Ramabai said at parting, "she saved both our lives. We owe a debt."
"We have bent our heads to your will so far in everything, but we refuse to sacrifice these heads because of a personal spite against Ramabai, whom we frankly and wisely fear. We dare not break into the treasury. The keepers are unbribable; the priests are with them, and the people are with the priests. Bring back the white man and his daughter.
"With this stipulation: Ramabai is yours, 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 king would be, then, Umballa's affair. "He is ill?"
It seemed incredible to Bruce that the enormous beasts could move so soundlessly. It was a part of their business; 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 returned almost at once with the good news that there was none.
He slept a little before dawn, and was aroused by voices below. He listened. "I am Jawahir Lal, the water carrier. Each day at dawn I water the garden of Ramabai to pay a debt." Bruce looked toward Ramabai, who slept the sleep of the profoundly wearied. A bheestee, perhaps a messenger. "Go around to the rear gate, which can be opened," said the trooper.
The events which followed were of breathless rapidity. Ramabai and Umballa met upon the parapet in a struggle which promised death or the treadmill to the weaker. At the same time Bruce opened the door to the Court of Death as the final bar dropped in the cage. At the sight of him the colonel and his daughters rushed to the door.
The Mem-sahib must at least stand the ordeal of terror, for she is guarded too well. Yet, if they were not going to bind her, I should not worry. She has animal magic in her eye, in her voice. I have seen wild beasts grow still when she spoke. Who knows? Now, I sleep." Bruce and Ramabai had no difficulty in passing the guards.
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