"Mr. Bruce, I am sure Ahmed has some information regarding father. I
don't know what. Who knows? They may have lied to me. He may be
alive, alive!"
"I'll return and find out, once I've got you safe. I don't blame you
for thinking all this a nightmare. God knows it is nightmarish. Do
you know, I've been thinking it over. It appears to me that the king
latterly took a dislike to his protege, Umballa, and turned this little
trick to make him unhappy. I dare say he thought your father wise
enough to remain away. Umballa hangs between wind and water; he can go
neither forward nor backward. But poor Ramabai back there will lose
his gold for this."
"Ramabai has always been very kindly to the poor, and the poor man
generally defends his benefactor when the night-time comes. To Umballa
I was only a means to the end. If he declared himself king, that would
open up the volcano upon which he stands; but as my prince consort,
that would leave him fairly secure."
"Only a means," mused Bruce inwardly, stealing a glance at her sad yet
lovely profile. Umballa was a man, for all his color; he was human;
and to see this girl it was only human to want her. "Your father was
one of the best friends I had. But, oddly enough, I never saw a
photograph of you. He might have been afraid we young chaps . . ." He
paused embarrassedly. "If only you had taken me into your confidence
on board the _Yorck_!"
"Ah, but did you offer me the chance?" she returned.
"I never realized till now that a chap might be too close lipped
sometimes. Well, here we are, in flight together!"
That night for the first time in many hours Kathlyn closed her eyes
with a sense of security. True, it was not the most comfortable place
to sleep in, the howdah; there were ceaseless rollings from side to
side, intermingled with spine racking bumps forward, as the elephant
occasionally hastened his stride. Kathlyn succeeded in stealing from
the god of sleep only cat naps. Often the cold would awaken her, and
she would find that Bruce had been bracing her by extending his arm
across the howdah and gripping the rail.
"You mustn't do that," she protested feebly. "You will be dead in the
morning."
"You might fall out."
"Then I shan't go to sleep again till the journey ends. You have been
so good and kind to me!"
"Nonsense!"
They came out into the scrub jungle, and the moonlight lay magically
over all things. Sometimes a shadow crossed the whitened sands;
scurried, rather; and quietly Bruce would tell her what the animals
were--jackals, with an occasional prowling red wolf. They were not
disturbed by any of the cat family. But there was one interval of
suspense. Bruce spied in the distance a small herd of wild elephants.
So did Rajah, who raised his trunk and trumpeted into the night. The
mahout, fully awake to the danger, beat the old rascal mightily with
his goad. Yet that would have failed to hold Rajah. Bruce averted the
danger by shooting his revolvers into the air. The wild elephants
stampeded, and Rajah, disgruntled, was brought to the compass.