And now, waiting for the ship to warp into its pier, she realized what
a fatal mistake her reticence had been. A friend of her father!
Bruce had left the Lloyder before dinner (at Singapore), and as
Kathlyn's British-India coaster did not leave till morning she had
elected to remain over night on the German boat.
As Bruce disappeared among the disembarking passengers and climbed into
a 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 the
sack of a musk deer, and that is the most dangerous of all sports. He
collects animals."
Then Kathlyn knew. The name had been vaguely familiar, but the young
man's reticence had given her no opportunity to dig into her
recollection. 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 journey
to the last word. Well, what was done could not be recalled and done
over.
"My father is a great hunter, too," she said simply, eying wistfully
the road taken by Bruce into town.
"What? _Herr Gott_! Are you Colonel Hare's daughter?" exclaimed the
captain.
"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 these
waters. _Herr Gott_! And you never said anything! What a woman for a
man 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 a
sister. _Ach_, yes! He was always taking out some photographs in the
smoke-room and showing them to us old chaps."
Tears filled Kathlyn's eyes. In an Indian prison, out of the
jurisdiction of the British Raj, and with her two small hands and
woman's mind she must free him! Always the mysterious packet lay close
to 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 the
gangplank was lowered; and presently the tourists flocked down with
variant 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, stolid
Chinamen; a riot of color and a bewildering babel of tongues.
Kathlyn found a presentable carriage, and with her luggage pressing
about her feet directed the driver to the Great Eastern Hotel.