"Don't, father!" interrupted Kathlyn. "Perhaps we shall escape, but
none of us is sure. Let us merely hope. I'm so tired!"
Bruce reached over and pressed her hand reassuringly; and the colonel
eyed him as from a new angle.
"Good!" he murmured under his breath; "nothing better could happen. He
is a man, and a tried one, I know. Good! If once we get clear of this
hell, I shall not stand in their way. But Winnie, Winnie; what in
God's name will that kitten be doing all these terrible weeks? Will
she try to find us? The first telegraph office we reach I must cable
her under no circumstances 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 the
curtained howdah took it for granted that some unsuccessful candidate
was returning to her home.
It was well for Kathlyn that she had made up her mind to leap for the
vines at the moment she did. For the elephants had not left the first
turn in the street when keepers and soldiers came running pell-mell
into the street with ropes and ladders, prepared for the recapture of
the treasury leopards, which, of course, were looked upon as sacred.
At the ancient gate the fugitives paused for the supplies awaiting
them. Ahmed was not known to the guards there; that was good fortune.
In the dialect he jested with them, winked and nodded toward the
curtained howdah. The guards laughed; they understood. Some
disappointed houri was returning whence she had come. Ahmed took his
time; he had no reason to hurry. Nothing must pass which would arouse
the suspicions of the guards; and haste always alarmed the Oriental.
To the colonel, however, things appeared to lag unnecessarily. He
finally lost patience and swept back the curtain despite Bruce's
restraining hand. A native mahout, who had been loitering in town that
day, recognized at once the royal turban which the colonel still wore.
The colonel's face meant nothing; the turban, everything. The mahout
stood stock-still for a moment, not quite believing his eyes. By this
time, however, Ahmed was comfortably straddled back of his elephant's
ears and was jogging along the road.
"The king!" shouted the surprised mahout to the guards, who had not
seen the man or the turban.
"What king, fool?" returned the guards.
"The white king who was betrothed this day! Ai, ai! I have seen the
royal turban. It is he!"
The guards derided him. So, finding no hope in them, he ran to his
elephant, mounted and rode back into town. Durga Ram would pay well
for this news.