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The Adventures of Kathlyn

Page 66

Kathlyn, when she heard that voice, shut her eyes.

Umballa had drawn closer. There was something about this half veiled

slave that stirred his recollection. Where had he seen that graceful

poise? The clearness of the skin, though dark; the roundness of the

throat and arms. . . .

"Three thousand rupees!"

The old mahout purred and smoothed his palms together. Three thousand

rupees, a rajah's ransom! He would own his elephant; his wife should

ride in a gilded palanquin, and his children should wear shoes. Three

thousand rupees! He folded his arms and walked gently to and fro.

"Five thousand rupees!" said Umballa, impelled by he knew not what to

make this bid.

A ripple of surprise ran over the crowd. The regent, the powerful

Durga Ram, was bidding in person for his zenana.

Kathlyn's nerves tingled with life again, and the sudden bounding of

her heart stifled her. Umballa! She was surely lost. Sooner or later

he would recognize her.

The mahout stood up, delighted. He was indeed fortunate. He salaamed.

"Huzoor, she is gentle," he said.

The high-caste who had bid 3,000 rupees salaamed also.

"Highness, she is yours," he said. "I can not bid against my regent."

It was the custom to mark a purchased slave with the caste of her

purchaser. Umballa, still not recognizing her, waved her aside toward

the Brahmin caste markers, one of whom daubed her forehead with a

yellow triangle. Her blue eyes pierced the curious brown ones.

"The sahib at the river," she whispered in broken Hindustani. "Many

rupees. Bring him to the house of Durga Ram." This in case Ali failed.

The Brahmin's eyes twinkled. Her Hindustani was execrable, but "sahib"

and "river" were plain to his understanding. There was but one sahib

by the river, and he was the white hunter who had rescued the vanished

queen from the ordeals. He nodded almost imperceptibly. Inwardly he

smiled. He was not above giving the haughty upstart a Thuggee's twist.

He spoke to his neighbor quietly, assigned to him his bowls and

brushes, rose, and made off.

"Follow me," said Umballa to the happy mahout. Presently he would have

his bags of silver, bright and twinkling.

Fate overtook Ali, who in his mad race to Hare's camp fell and badly

sprained his ankle. Moaning, less from the pain than from the

attendant helplessness, he was carried into the hut of a kindly ryot

and there ministered to.

The Brahmin, however, filled with greed and a sly humor, reached his

destination in safety. Naturally cunning, double tongued, sly,

ingratiating, after the manner of all Brahmins, who will sink to any

base level in order to attain their equivocal ends his actions were

unhampered by any sense of treachery toward Umballa. A Thuggee's twist

to the schemes of the street rat Umballa, who wore the Brahmin string,

to which he had no right! The Brahmin chuckled as he paused at the

edge of Bruce's camp. A fat purse lay yonder. He approached, his

outward demeanor a mixture of pride and humility.

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