The Adventures of Kathlyn

Meantime Lal Singh was hurrying on a racing camel toward the railway,

toward Simla, more than a thousand miles away. He was happy. Here was

the long delayed opportunity for the hand of the British Raj: a captive

white woman. What better excuse was needed? There would be armed Sikhs

and Gurhas and Tommies near Rawal Pindi. Ai! how time moved, how fate

twisted! How the finest built castle in schemes came clattering down!

At the very moment when he had secretly worked upon the king to throw

himself into the protecting arms of the British Raj--assassinated! The

council? Umballa? Some outsider, made mad by oppression? The egg of

Brahma was strangely hatched--this curious old world!

Ahmed remained hidden in the bazaars, to await the ordeals. Nothing

should harm his mistress; he was ready now and at all times to lay down

his life for her; in this the British Raj came second. He had sent a

courier to Bruce Sahib's bungalow, but the man had returned to report

that it was still unoccupied.

And while he bit his nails in futile wrath and smoked till his tongue

grew bitter, some miles away there was much confusion in the jungle by

the water. Tents were being set up, native bearers and coolies were

running to and fro, building fires, carrying water, hobbling the pack

elephants. Wandering in and out of this animated scene was a young man,

clean shaven, deeply tanned, with blue eyes which were direct, small

pupiled, yet kindly. Presently he called to one of the head men.

"Ali, you might send three or four men on to the bungalow to clean up

things. We shall make it tomorrow. It's but two hours' ride, but

there's no hurry; and besides there's a herd of elephants behind us

somewhere. They've come up far for this time of year."

"Any news worth while?"

"Yes, Sahib."

Ali made a gesture; it signified a great many things.

"Bruce Sahib will not believe."

"Believe what?" said Bruce, emptying his pipe against his heel.

"There is a white queen in the city."

"What? What bally nonsense is this?"

"It is only what I've been told, Sahib. Hare Sahib is dead."

Bruce let his pipe slip through his fingers. "Hare? Good lord!"

"Yes, Sahib. But that is not all. It seems the king went mad after we

went to Africa. You remember how Hare Sahib saved him from the leopard?

Well, he made Hare Sahib his heir. He had that right; the law of the

childless king has always read so in Allaha. The white queen is Hare

Sahib's daughter."

Bruce leaned against a tent pole. "Am I dreaming or are you?" he gasped.

"It is what they tell me, Sahib. I know it not as a fact."