The Adventures of Kathlyn

Umballa came in, followed by four troopers, who stationed themselves on

each side of the door.

"Your Majesty----"

"Wait!" thundered the colonel. Suddenly he turned to the troopers.

"Am I your king?"

"Yes, Majesty!"

The four men salaamed.

"Then I order you to arrest this man Durga Ram for treason against the

person of your king!"

The troopers stared, dumfounded, first at the colonel, then at Umballa.

"I command it!"

Umballa laughed. The troopers did not stir.

"Ah," said the colonel. "That is all I desire to know. I am not a

king. I am merely a prisoner. Therefore those papers which you bring

me can not lawfully be signed by me." The colonel turned his back to

Umballa, sought the latticed window and peered forth.

"There are ways," blazed forth Umballa.

"Bah! You black fool!" replied the colonel, wheeling. "Have I not yet

convinced you that all you can do is to kill me? Don't waste your time

in torturing me. It will neither open my lips nor compel me to take a

character brush in my hand. If my daughter is dead, so be it. At any

rate, she is at present beyond your clutches. You overreached

yourself. Had you brought her back it is quite possible I might have

surrendered. But I am alone now."

"You refuse to tell where the filigree basket is hidden?"

"I do."

"You refuse to exercise your prerogative to open the doors of the

treasury?"

"I do."

Umballa opened the door, motioning to the troopers to pass out. He

framed the threshold and curiously eyed this unbendable man. Presently

he would bend. Umballa smiled.

"Colonel Sahib, I am not yet at the end of my resources," and with this

he went out, closing the door.

That smile troubled the colonel. What deviltry was the scoundrel up to

now? What could he possibly do?

Later, as he paced wearily to and fro, he saw something white slip

under the door. He stooped and picked up a note, folded European

fashion. His heart thrilled as he read the stilted script: "Ahmed and I shall watch over you. Be patient. This time I am

pretending to be your enemy, and you must act accordingly. A messenger

has arrived from Bala Khan. Your daughter and Bruce Sahib are alive,

and, more, on the way to Allaha in native guise. Be of good cheer,

Ramabai."' And Umballa, as he lifted his fruit dish at supper, espied another of

those sinister warnings. "Beware!" This time he summoned his entire

household and threatened death to each and all of them if they did not

immediately disclose to him the person who had placed this note under

the fruit dish. They cringed and wept and wailed, but nothing could be

got out of them. He had several flogged on general principles.