THE VEILED CANDIDATES
From the four ends of the principality they came, the veiled
candidates; from the north, the east, the south and west. They came in
marvelous palanquins, in curtained howdahs, on camels, in splendid
bullock carts. Many a rupee resolved itself into new-bought finery,
upon the vague chance of getting it back with compound interest.
What was most unusual, they came without pedigree or dowry, this being
Ramabai's idea; though, in truth, Umballa objected at first to the lack
of dowry. He had expected to inherit this dowry. He gave way to
Ramabai because he did not care to have Ramabai suspect what his inner
thoughts were. Let the fool Ramabai pick out his chestnuts for him.
Umballa laughed in his voluminous sleeve.
Some one of these matrimonially inclined houris the colonel would have
to select; if he refused, then should Ramabai do the selecting. More,
he would marry the fortunate woman by proxy. There was no possible
loophole for the colonel.
The populace was charmed, enchanted, as it always is over a new
excitement. Much as they individually despised Umballa, collectively
they admired his ingenuity in devising fresh amusements. Extra feast
days came one after another. The Oriental dislikes work; and any one
who could invent means of avoiding it was worthy of gratitude. So,
then, the populace fell in with Umballa's scheme agreeably. The bhang
and betel and toddy sellers did a fine business during the festival of
Rama.
There was merrymaking in the streets, day and night. The temples and
mosques were filled to overflowing. Musicians with reeds and tom-toms
paraded the bazaars. In nearly every square the Nautch girl danced, or
the juggler plied his trade, or there was a mongoose-cobra fight (the
cobra, of course, bereft of its fangs), and fakirs grew mango trees out
of nothing. There was a flurry in the slave mart, too.
The troops swaggered about, overbearing. They were soon to get their
pay. The gold and silver were rotting in the treasury. Why leave it
there, since gold and silver were minted to be spent?
There were elephant fights in the reconstructed arena; tigers attacked
wild boars, who fought with enormous razor-like tusks, as swift and
deadly as any Malay kris. The half forgotten ceremony of feeding the
wild pig before sundown each day was given life again. And drove after
drove came in from the jungles for the grain, which was distributed
from a platform. And wild peacocks followed the pigs. A wonderful
sight it was to see several thousand pigs come trotting in, each drove
headed by its fighting boar. When the old fellows met there was
carnage; squealing and grunting, they fought. The peacocks shrilled
and hopped from back to back for such grain as fell upon the bristly
backs of the pigs. Here and there a white peacock would be snared, or
a boar whose tusks promised a battle royal with some leopard or tiger.
And through all this turmoil and clamor Ahmed and Lal Singh moved,
sounding the true sentiments of the people. They did not want white
kings or white queens; they desired to be ruled by their kind, who
would not start innovations but would let affairs drift on as they had
done for centuries.
Nor was Bruce inactive. Many a time Umballa had stood within an arm's
length of death; but always Bruce had resisted the impulse. It would
be rank folly to upset Ramabai's plans, which were to culminate in
Umballa's overthrow.
But upon a certain hour Ramabai came to Bruce, much alarmed. During
his absence with Pundita at some palace affair his home had been
entered, ransacked, and ten thousand rupees had been stolen. His real
fortune, however, was hidden securely. The real trouble was that these
ten thousand rupees would practically undo much of what had been
accomplished. He was certain that Umballa had instigated this theft,
and that the money would be doled out to the soldiers. For upon their
dissatisfaction rested his future.
"Take Bala Khan at his word," suggested Bruce, "and ask him for his
five thousand hillmen."
Ramabai smiled. "And have Bala Khan constitute himself the king of
Allaha! No, Sahib; he is a good friend, but he is also a dangerous
one. We must have patience."
"Patience!" exploded Bruce.
"I have waited several years. Do you not see that when I strike I must
succeed?"
"But these warnings to Umballa?"
"He is not molesting me, is he?" returned Ramabai calmly.
"Well, it is more than I could stand."
"Ah, you white people waste so much life and money by acting upon your
impulses! Trust me; my way is best; and that is, for the present we
must wait."
"God knows," sighed Bruce, "but I am beginning to believe in the
colonel's guru."
"Who can say? There are some in this land who possess mighty wills,
who can make man sleep by looking into his eyes, who can override and
destroy weaker minds. I know; I have seen. You have heard of
suspended animation? Well, I have seen examples of it; and so have my
people. Can you wonder at their easiness in being swayed this way and
that? But these men I refer to do not sit about in the bazaars with
wooden bowls for coppers. It is said, however, that all curses die
with their makers. It depends upon how old the Colonel Sahib's guru
is. I know priests who are more than a hundred years old, and wrinkled
like the bride of Hathi, the god of elephants."
"But a child could see through all this rigmarole."
"Can Bruce Sahib?" Again Ramabai smiled. "My people are sometimes
children in that they need constant amusement. Have patience, my
friend; for I understand. Do I not love Pundita even as you love the
Mem-sahib?"
"What do you mean?" demanded Bruce roughly.
"I have eyes."
"Well, yes; it is true. Behind you are your people; behind us,
nothing. That is why I am frantic. Umballa, whenever he finds himself
checkmated, digs up what he purports to be an unused law. There is
none to contest it. I tell you, Ramabai, we must escape soon, or we
never will. You suggested this impossible marriage. It is horrible."
"But it lulls Umballa; and lulled, he becomes careless. Beyond the
north gate there are ever ready men and elephants. And when the moment
arrives, thither we shall fly, all of us. But," mysteriously, "we may
not have to fly. When Umballa learns that the Colonel Sahib will
refuse to sign the necessary treasury release the soldiers will
understand that once again they have been trifled with."
"We must wait. But it's mighty hard."
The garden of brides has already been described. But on this day when
the ten veiled candidates sat in waiting there was spring in the air;
and there were roses climbing trellises, climbing over the marble
walls, and the pomegranate blossoms set fire to it all. At the gate
stood Ramabai, dressed according to his station, and representing by
proxy the king. Presently a splendid palanquin arrived, and within it
a tardy candidate. She was laden with jewels, armlets, anklets and
head ornaments; pearls and uncut sapphires and rubies. Upon lifting
her veil she revealed a beautiful high caste face. Ramabai bade her
pass on. No sooner had she taken her place than still another
palanquin was announced, and this last was drawn by fat sleek bullocks,
all of a color.
Ramabai held up his hand. The bullock drivers stopped their charges,
and from the palanquin emerged a veiled woman. This was Kathlyn.
The selected candidates were now all present. As master of ceremonies,
Ramabai conducted them into the palace, thence into the throne room
gaily decorated for the occasion. In a balcony directly above the
canopy of the throne were musicians, playing the mournful harmonies so
dear to the oriental heart.
Upon the throne sat Colonel Hare, gorgeously attired, but cold and
stern of visage, prepared to play his part in this unutterable
buffoonery. Near by stood Durga Ram, so-called Umballa, smiling. It
was going to be very simple; once yonder stubborn white fool was
wedded, he should be made to disappear; and there should be another
wedding in which he, Durga Ram, should take the part of the bridegroom.
Then for the treasury, flight, and, later, ease abroad. Let the
filigree basket of gems stay where it was; there were millions in the
treasury, the accumulated hoardings of many decades.
The council and high priests also wore their state robes, and behind
them were officers and other dignitaries.
There was a stir as Ramabai entered with the veiled candidates. The
colonel in vain tried to hide his interest and anxiety. Kathlyn was
there, somewhere among these kotowing women; but there was nothing by
which he could recognize her. As the women spread about the throne,
Ramabai signified to the musicians to cease.
Silence.
Then Ramabai brought candidate after candidate close to the colonel, so
that he alone might see the face behind the veil. At each uplifting of
the veil the colonel shook his head. A dark frown began to settle over
Umballa's face. If the colonel refused the last candidate for nuptial
honors, he should die. But as Ramabai lifted the veil of this last
woman the colonel nodded sharply; and Kathlyn, for a brief space, gazed
into her father's eyes. The same thought occurred to both; what a
horrible mockery it all was, and where would it lead finally?
"Take care!" whispered Kathlyn as she saw her father's fingers move
nervously with suppressed longing to reach out and touch her.
The spectators of this little drama which was hidden from them evinced
their approval by a murmuring which had something like applause in it.
A queen was chosen! A real queen at last had been chosen. Ramabai had
accomplished by diplomacy what yonder Durga Ram had failed to do by
force. But Umballa secretly smiled as he sensed this undercurrent.
Presently they should see.
The colonel extended his hand and drew Kathlyn up beside him; and now
for a moment the whole affair trembled in the balance: Kathlyn felt
herself possessed with a wild desire to laugh.
The chain of gold, representing the betrothal, was now ordered brought
from the treasury.
The populace, outside the palace, having been acquainted with what was
taking place, burst out into cheers.
The treasure room, guarded by leopards in charge of incorruptible
keepers, was now approached by Umballa and his captain of the guard.
Umballa presented his order on the treasury. The leopards were driven
into their cages, and the magic door swung open. The two gasped for
breath; for Umballa had never before looked within. Everywhere gold
and gems; fabulous riches, enough to make a man ten times a king.
"Highness," whispered the captain, "there is enough riches here to
purchase the whole of Hind!"
As he stared Umballa surrendered to a passing dream. Presently he
shook himself, sought the chain for which he had come, and reluctantly
stepped out into the corridor again. He would return soon to this
door. But for that fool of a white man who had saved the king from the
leopard, he would have opened this door long since. As he walked to
the outer door he thought briefly of the beauty of Kathlyn. She was
dead, and dead likewise was his passion for her.
Beyond the gate to the garden of brides Ahmed and Lal Singh waited with
elephants. From here they would make the north gate, transfer to new
elephants, and leave Allaha and its evil schemes behind. They created
no suspicion. There were many elephants about the palace this day. In
one of the howdahs sat Bruce, armed; in the other, Pundita, trembling
with dread. So many arms had Siva, that evil spawn, that Pundita would
not believe all was well till they had crossed the frontier.
"They will be coming soon, Sahib," said Ahmed. Bruce wiped the sweat
from his palms and nodded.
Now, when Umballa and his captain of the guard departed with the
betrothal chain they did not firmly close the outer door, which shut
off the leopards from the main palace. The leopards were immediately
freed and began their prowling through the corridors, snarling and
growling as they scented the air through which the two men had just
passed. One paused by the door, impatiently thrusting out a paw.
The door gave.
In the throne room the mockery of the betrothal was gone through, and
then the calm Ramabai secretly signified that the hour for escape was
at hand; for everywhere, now that the ceremony was done, vigilance
would be lax.
Immediately the high priest announced that the successful candidate
would be conducted to the palace zenana and confined there till the
final ceremonies were over.
Umballa dreamed of what he had seen.
To Ramabai was given the exalted honor of conducting the king and his
betrothed to their respective quarters. Once in the private passageway
to the harem, or zenana, Ramabai threw caution to the winds.
"We must go a roundabout way to the garden of brides, which will be
deserted. Outside the gate Bruce Sahib and Ahmed and Lal Singh await
with elephants. Once we can join them we are safe. And in a month's
time I shall return."
Meantime one of the leopard keepers rushed frantically into the throne
room, exclaiming that the seven guardian leopards were at large. Even
as he spoke one of the leopards appeared in the musicians' balcony.
The panic which followed was not to be described. A wild scramble
ensued toward all exits.
The fugitives entered the royal zenana. Kathlyn proceeded at once to
the exit which led to the garden of brides. There she waited for her
father and Ramabai, who had paused by the door of one of the zenana
chambers. Between them and Kathlyn lay the plunge.
Ramabai addressed the lady of the zenana, telling her that if guards
should come to state that Kathlyn was concealed in her own chamber. To
this the young woman readily agreed.
Suddenly a leopard appeared behind the colonel and Ramabai. Kathlyn,
being first to discover the presence of the animal, cried out a warning.
"Fly, Kit! Save yourself! I am accursed!" called the colonel.
Ramabai and the young woman at the chamber door hurriedly drew the
colonel into the chamber and shut the door. The colonel struggled, but
Ramabai held him tightly.
"We are unarmed, Sahib," he said; "and the Mem-sahib never loses her
head."
"Ramabai, I tell you I shall die here. It is useless to attempt to aid
me. I am accursed, accursed! Kit, Kit!"
The leopard stood undecided before the door which had closed in his
face. Then he discovered Kathlyn, fumbling at the wicker door at the
far side of the swimming pool. There was something upon which to wreak
his temper; for all this unusual commotion and freedom had disturbed
him greatly. Kathlyn opened the wicker door, closing it behind her.
Clear headed, as Ramabai had said, she recollected the palanquin which
had been last to enter the garden of brides. She ran into the garden,
flew to the palanquin just as she heard the leopard crash through the
flimsy wicker door. She reached and entered the palanquin not a moment
too soon. She huddled down close to the door. The leopard trotted
round and round, snarling and sniffing. Presently he was joined by
another. From afar she could hear shouting. She readily understood.
Through some carelessness the leopards of the treasury were at liberty,
and that of her own and her father was in jeopardy. Just without the
garden of brides was Bruce and help, and she dared not move!
Bruce, from his howdah, heard the noise in the palace; female shrieks,
commands, a shot from a musket. What in heaven's name had happened?
Where was Kathlyn? Why did she not appear? He fingered his revolvers.
But Ahmed signaled to him not to stir. The knowledge of whatever had
happened must be brought to them; on their lives they dared not go in
search of it.
"This comes from your damnable oriental way of doing things. If I had
had my way, Umballa would be dead and buried."
"All in good time, Sahib."
The elephants stirred restlessly, for they scented the cat whom they
hated.
Within the palanquin Kathlyn dared scarcely to breathe; for outside
seven leopards prowled and sniffed and snarled!