The Adventures of Kathlyn

In the blue of night the temple looked as though it had been sculptured

out of mist. Here and there the heavy dews, touched by the moon

lances, flung back flames of sapphire, cold and sharp. To Kathlyn the

temple was of marvelous beauty. She urged Rajah toward the crumbling

portico.

It was a temple in ruins, like many in Hind. Broken pillars,

exquisitely carved, lay about, and some of the tall windows of marble

lace were punctured, as if the fist of some angry god had beaten

through. Under the decayed portico stood an iron brazier. Near this

reposed a cracked stone sarcophagus: an unusual sight in this part of

the world. It was without its lid. But one god now brooded

hereabouts--Silence. Not a sound anywhere, not even from the near-by

trees. She saw a noiseless lizard slide jerkily across a patch of

moonshine and dissolve into the purple shadow beyond.

What was this temple? What gods had been worshiped here? And why was

it deserted? She had heard her father tell of the ruined city of

Chitor. Plague? . . . Kathlyn shuddered. Sometimes villages, to the

last soul in them, were brushed from existence and known no more to

man. And this might be one of them. Yet indications of a village were

nowhere to be seen. It was merely a temple, perhaps miles from the

nearest village, deserted save by prowling wild beasts, the winds, the

sunshine and the moonshine. She looked far and wide for any signs of

human habitation.

She commanded Rajah to kneel. So held by the enchanting picture was

Kathlyn that the elephant's renewed restlessness (and he had reason, as

will be seen) passed unobserved by her. He came to his knees, however,

and she got out of the howdah. Her legs trembled for a space, for her

nerves were in a pitiable condition. Suddenly Rajah's ears went

forward, he rose, and his trunk curled angrily. With a whuff he

wheeled and shuffled off toward the jungle out of which he had so

recently emerged.

"Halt!" cried Kathlyn. What had he heard? What had he seen? "Halt!"

But even as she called the tall grass closed in behind the elephant.

What water and food she had disappeared with him.

She paused by the brazier, catching hold of it for support. She

laughed hysterically: it was so funny; it was all so out of joint with

real things, with every-day life as she had known it. Weird laughter

returned to mock her astonished ears, a sinister echo. And then she

laughed at the echo, being in the grip of a species of madness. In the

purple caverns of the temple she suddenly became conscious of another

presence. A flash as of moonlight striking two chrysoberyls took the

madness out of her mind. This forsaken temple was the haunt of a

leopard or a tiger.