The Adventures of Kathlyn

Slave girls entered noiselessly. The hanging lamps were lighted. A

tabouret was set before her. There were quail and roast kid, fruits

and fragrant tea. She was not hungry, but she ate.

Within a dozen yards of her sat her father, stolidly munching his

chupatties, because he knew that now he must live.

* * * * * * One of the chief characteristics of the East Indian is extravagance.

To outvie one another in celebrations of births, weddings, deaths and

coronations they beggar themselves. In this the Oriental and the

Occidental have one thing in common. This principality was small, but

there was a deal of wealth in it because of its emerald mines and

turquoise pits. The durbar brought out princes and princelings from

east, south and west, and even three or four wild-eyed ameers from the

north. The British government at Calcutta heard vaguely about this

fete, but gave it scant attention for the simple fact that it had not

been invited to attend. Still, it watched the performance covertly.

Usually durbars took months of preparation; this one had been called

into existence within ten days.

Elephants and camels and bullocks; palanquins, gharries, tongas; cloth

of gold and cloth of jewels; color, confusion, maddening noises, and

more color. There was very little semblance of order; a rajah preceded

a princeling, and so on down. The wailing of reeds and the muttering

of kettle drums; music, languorous, haunting, elusive, low minor chords

seemingly struck at random, intermingling a droning chant; a thousand

streams of incense, crossing and recrossing; and fireworks at night,

fireworks which had come all the way across China by caravan--these

things Kathlyn saw and heard from her lattice.

The populace viewed all these manifestations quietly. They were

perfectly willing to wait. If this white queen proved kind they would

go about their affairs, leaving her in peace; but they were determined

that she should be no puppet in the hands or Umballa, whom they hated

for his cruelty and money leeching ways. Oh, everything was ripe in

the state for murder and loot--and the reaching, holding hand of the

British Raj.

As Kathlyn advanced to the canopied dais upon which she was to be

crowned, a hand filled with flowers reached out. She turned to see

Ahmed.

"Bruce Sahib," she whispered.

Ahmed salaamed deeply as she passed on. The impression that she was

dreaming again seized her. This could not possibly be real. Her feet

did not seem to touch the carpets; she did not seem to breathe; she

floated. It was only when the crown was placed upon her head that she

realized the reality and the finality of the proceedings.

[Illustration: Ahmed salaamed deeply.] "Be wise," whispered Umballa coldly. "If you take off that crown now,

neither your gods nor mine could save you from that mob down yonder.

Be advised. Rise!"