"I want to go home, Ahmed, home!"
"Here's the gharry. Here, Sahib!" He held out a handful of cartridges
toward Bruce. "These fit Lal Singh's pistols. Hurry, hurry!"
Bruce helped Kathlyn into the vehicle and jumped in beside her, and
Ahmed struck the horse. The gharry was a rickety old contrivance,
every hinge creaking like some lost soul; but Ahmed had reasoned that
the more dilapidated the vehicle, the less conspicuous it would be. He
urged the horse. He wanted the flying mob to think that he was flying,
too, which, indeed, he was. The gharry rolled and careened like a dory
in a squall. A dozen times Bruce and Kathlyn were flung together, and
quite unconsciously she caught hold of his lean, strong brown hand. It
would not be true to say that he was unconscious of the act.
Presently they entered the paved streets of the bazaars, and the going
improved. Kathlyn leaned back.
"I am Kathlyn Hare, and this is the year . . ."
"Come now, Miss Kathlyn, no thinking; leave the whole business to me,
the worry and the planning. If we can reach my elephants, all right;
we'll be in Delhi within seven days. The rest of the going will be as
simple as falling off a log."
That Yankee phrase did more to rehabilitate her than all his assurances.
From time to time Bruce stole a glance through the curtained window.
Stragglers were hastening along close to the walls, and there were
soldiers who had forgot to bring their guns from the elephant arena.
Once he heard the clatter of hoofs. A horseman ran alongside the
gharry, slowed up, peered down and shrugged. Kathlyn shrank toward
Bruce. The rider proceeded on his way. Ahmed recognized him as the
ambassador from the neighboring principality, ruled by a Kumor, who was
in turn ruled by the British Raj. Kathlyn could not shut out the leer
on his face.
By midafternoon the gharry reached Bruce's camp. Ramabai and Pundita
greeted Kathlyn with delight. All their troubles were over. They had
but to mount the elephants and ride away.
"Ahmed," urged Kathlyn, "leave the gharry and come with us."
"No, Mem-sahib,"--Ahmed gazed at her strangely--"I have work to do,
much work. Allah guard you!" He struck the horse with his bamboo
stick and careened away.
"Let us be off!" cried Bruce. "We have sixty miles to put between us
and freedom in fact. We can not make the railway. Ali, pack! Go to
the bungalow and remain there. You will be questioned. Tell the
truth. There is not an elephant in the royal stables that can beat
Rajah. All aboard! No stops!"--smiling as he helped Kathlyn into the
howdah. "We shall be forced to ride all night."
The elephants started forward, that ridden by Bruce and Kathlyn in the
lead, Ramabai and Pundita following a few yards in the rear.