"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. We
shall visit the council at once, They are prisoners. If they have had
no hand in the disappearance of the king then we are facing a stone
wall over which we can not leap. For Umballa has fled, whither no one
knows, and with him has gone the secret. Come; we shall go at once to
the 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 of
mental unbalance. Perhaps unwisely they had proclaimed his death.
Durga Ram had discovered what they had done and had held it over their
heads like a sword blade. That the king was not in his dungeon, why
and wherefor, was beyond their knowledge. They were in the power of
Ramabai; let him work his will upon them. They had told the truth.
And Ramabai, much as he detested them, believed them. But for the
present it was required that they remain incarcerated till the king was
found, 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. There
was, however, one man who did not forget. Upon a certain day Umballa
had carelessly saved his life, and to his benefactor he was now
determined to devote that life. This man was the majordomo, the chief
servant 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 had
settled back into its former habits, this majordomo betook himself to
Umballa's house. It was well guarded, and by men who had never been
close 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 their
loyalty to Ramabai, now the constitutional regent. No one could leave
the house or enter it without scrutiny and question.
The servants and the women of the zenana remained undisturbed. Ramabai
would have it so. Things had been put in order. There had not been
much damage done by the looters on the day of the revolt. They had
looked for treasure merely, and only an occasional bit of vandalism had
marked their pathway.
On the pain of death no soldier might enter the house.