The Adventures of Kathlyn

Briefly she recounted her adventures, and when she had done he bowed

his head upon her bare shoulder and wept as only strong men, made weak,

weep.

To Kathlyn it was terrible. "Father, don't, don't! You hurt me! I

can't stand it!"

After a while he said: "What shall we do, Kit; what shall we do?"

"I will marry him, father," she answered quietly. "We can take our

revenge afterward."

"What!"

"If it will save you."

"Child, let me rot here. What! Would you trust him, knowing his false

heart as you do? The moment you married him would be my death warrant.

No, no! If you weaken now I shall curse you, curse you, my Kit! There

has been horror enough. I can die."

"Well, and so can I, father."

Silence. After a cockatoo shrilled; a laugh came faintly through the

window, and later the tinkle of music. Up above the world was going on

the same as usual. Trains were hurrying to and fro; the great ships

were going down the sapphire seas; children were at play, and the world

wide marts were busying with the daily affairs of men.

"Jewels!" she murmured, gazing at the sky beyond the grilled window.

Was there ever a precious stone that lay not in the shadow of blood and

misery? Poor, poor, foolish father! As if jewels were in beauty a

tithe of the misery they begot!

"Ay, Kit, jewels; sapphires and rubies and emeralds, diamonds and

pearls and moonstones. And I wanted them for my pretty cubs! Umballa

knew that I would return for them and laid his plans. But were they

not mine?"

"Yes, if you intended to rule these people; no, if you thought to take

them away. Do you not know that to Winnie and me a hair of your head

is more precious than the Koh-i-noor? We must put our heads together

and plan some way to get out."

She dropped her arms from his shoulders and walked about the cell,

searching every stone. Their only hope lay in the window, and that

appeared impossible since she had no means of filing through her

father's chains and the bars of the window. She returned and sat down

beside her father and rested her aching head on her knees, thinking,

thinking.

Bruce, struggling with the soldiers (and long since their fat flesh had

been stung into such activity!) saw Umballa appear in the corridor.

"Durga Ram," he cried, with a furious effort to free his arms. "Durga

Ram, you damnable scoundrel, it would be wise for you to kill me, here

and now, for if I ever get free. God help you! O, I shan't kill you;

that would be too merciful. But I'll break your bones, one by one, and

never more shall you stand and walk. Do you hear me? Where is Kathlyn

Hare? She is mine!"