LORD OF THE WORLD
Umballa began to go about cheerfully. He no longer doubted his star.
Gutter born, was he? A rat from the streets? Very well; there were
rats and rats, and some bit so deep that people died of it. He
sometimes doubted the advisability of permitting Colonel Hare's head
man Ahmed to roam about; the rascal might in the end prove too sharp.
Still it was not a bad idea to let Ahmed believe that he walked in
security. All Umballa wanted was the colonel, Kathlyn and the young
hunter, Bruce. It would be Ahmed, grown careless, who would eventually
lead him or his spies to the hiding-place.
That the trio were in the city Umballa did not doubt in the least, nor
that they were already scheming to liberate the younger sister. All
his enemies where he could put his hand on them!
Cheerful was the word.
The crust of civilization was thin; the true savage was cracking out
through it. In the days of the Mutiny Umballa would have been the Nana
Sahib's right hand. He would have given the tragedy at Cawnpur an
extra touch.
Ten thousand rupees did not go far among soldiers whose arrears called
for ten times that sum. So he placed it where it promised to do the
most good. It was a capital idea, this of cutting Ramabai's throat
with his own money. The lawless element among the troops was his,
Umballa's; at least his long enough for the purpose he had in mind.
When the multitude round the platform dissolved and Winnie was led to
her chamber in the zenana, Umballa treated himself to a beverage known
as the king's peg--a trifle composed of brandy and champagne. That he
drank to stupefaction was God's method of protecting that night an
innocent child--for Winnie was not much more than that.
Alone, dazed and terrified, she dropped down upon the cushions and
cried herself to sleep--exactly as Kathlyn had done. In the morning
she awoke to find tea and food. She had heard no one enter or leave.
Glancing curiously round her prison of marble and jasper and porphyry,
she discovered a slip of white paper protruding through a square in the
latticed window which opened out toward the garden of brides.
Hope roused her into activity. She ran to the window and snatched the
paper eagerly. It was from Kathlyn, darling Kit. The risk with which
it had been placed in the latticed window never occurred to Winnie.
The note informed her that the woman doctor of the zenana had been
sufficiently bribed to permit Kathlyn to make up like her and gain
admittance to the zenana. Winnie must complain of illness and ask for
the doctor, but not before the morning of the following day. So far as
she, Kathlyn, could learn, Winnie would be left in peace till the
festival of the car of Juggernaut. Ill, she would not be forced to
attend the ceremonies, the palace would be practically deserted, and
then Kathlyn would appear.
This news plucked up Winnie's spirits considerably. Surely her father
and Kit were brave and cunning enough to circumvent Umballa. What a
frightful country! What a dreadful people! She was miserable over the
tortures her father had suffered, but nevertheless she held him
culpable for not telling both her and Kit all and not half a truth. A
basket of gems! She and Kit did not wish to be rich, only free and
happy. And now her own folly in coming would but add to the miseries
of her loved ones.
Ahmed had told her of the two ordeals, the black dungeon, the whipping;
he had done so to convince her that she must be eternally on her guard,
search carefully into any proposition laid before her, and play for
time, time, for every minute she won meant a minute nearer her ultimate
freedom. She must promise to marry Umballa, but to set her own date.
Unlike Kathlyn, who had Pundita to untangle the intricacies of the
bastard Persian, Winnie had to depend wholly upon sign language; and
the inmates of the zenana did not give her the respect and attention
they had given to Kathlyn. Kathlyn was a novelty; Winnie was not.
Besides, one of them watched Winnie constantly, because the bearded
scoundrel had attracted her fancy and because she hoped to enchain his.
So the note from Kathlyn did not pass unnoticed, though Winnie believed
that she was without espionage.
Kathlyn, her father, Bruce, Ramabai and Pundita met at the colonel's
bungalow, and with Ahmed's help they thrashed out the plan to rescue
Winnie. Alone, the little sister would not be able to find her way out
of the garden of brides. It was Kathlyn's idea to have Winnie pretend
she needed air and sunshine and a walk in the garden after the doctor's
visit. The rescue would be attempted from the walls.
Juggernaut, or Jagannath in Hindustani (meaning Lord of the World), was
an idol so hideously done in wood that the Prince of Hell would have
taken it to be the personification of a damned soul, could he have
glimpsed it in the temple at Allaha. The god's face was dark, his lips
and mouth were horribly and significantly red; his eyes were polished
emeralds, his arms were of gilt, his body was like that of a toad. His
temporal reign in Allaha was somewhere near four hundred years, and no
doubt his emerald eyes had seen a crimson trail behind his car as many
hundred times.
He was married frequently. Some poor, benighted, fanatical woman would
pledge herself and would be considered with awe till she died. But in
these times no one flung himself under the car; nothing but the incense
of crushed flowers now followed his wake. His grin, however, was the
same as of old. Wood, paint, gilt and emeralds! Well, we enlightened
Europeans sometimes worship these very things, though we indignantly
deny it.
Outside the temple stood the car, fantastically carved, dull with
rubbed gold leaf. You could see the sockets where horrid knives had
once glittered in the sunlight. Xerxes no doubt founded his war
chariots upon this idea. The wheels, six in number, two in front and
two on each side, were solid, broad and heavy, capable of smoothing out
a corrugated winter road. The superstructure was an ornate shrine,
which contained the idol on its peregrinations to the river.
About the car were the devotees, some holding the ropes, others
watching the entrance to the temple. Presently from the temple came
the gurus or priests, bearing the idol. With much reverence they
placed the idol within the shrine, the pilgrims took hold firmly of the
ropes and the car rattled and thundered on its way to the river.
Of Juggernaut and his car more anon.
The street outside the garden of brides was in reality no thoroughfare,
though natives occasionally made use of it as a short cut into town.
Therefore no one observed the entrance of an elephant, which stopped
close to the wall, seemingly to melt into the drab of it. On his back,
however, the howdah was conspicuous. Behind the curtains Kathlyn
patiently waited. She was about to turn away in despair when through
the wicker gate she saw Winnie, attended by one of the zenana girls,
enter the garden. It seemed as if her will reached out to bring Winnie
to the wall and to hold the other young woman where she was.
But the two sat in the center of the garden, the thoughts of each far
away. The attendant felt no worry in bringing Winnie into the garden.
A cry from her lips would bring a dozen guards and eunuchs from the
palace. And the white girl could not get out alone. More than this,
she gave Winnie liberty in order to trap her if possible.
By and by the native girl pretended to feel drowsy in the heat of the
sun, and her head fell forward a trifle. It was then that Winnie heard
a low whistle, an old familiar whistle such as she and Kit had used
once upon a time in playing "I spy." She sat up rigidly. It was hard
work not to cry out. Over the wall the drab trunk of an elephant
protruded, and something white fluttered into the garden.
Winnie rose. The head of the native girl came up instinctively; but as
Winnie leisurely strolled toward the palace, the head sank again.
Winnie turned and wandered along the walls, apparently examining the
flowers and vines, but all the while moving nearer and nearer to the
bit of white paper which the idle breeze stirred back and forth
tentatively. When she reached the spot she stooped and plucked some
flowers, gathering up the paper as she did so. And still in the
stooping posture, she read the note, crumpled it and stuffed it into a
hole in the wall.
Poor child! Every move had been watched as a cobra watches its prey.
She was to pretend illness at once. Plans had been changed. She stood
up, swayed slightly and staggered back to the seat. In truth, she was
pale enough, and her heart beat so fast that she was horribly dizzy.
"A doctor!" she cried, forgetting that she would not be understood.
The native girl stared at her. She did not understand the words, but
the signs were enough. The young white woman looked ill; and Umballa
would deal harshly with those who failed to stem the tide of any
illness which might befall his captive. There was a commotion behind
the fretwork of the palace. Three other girls came out, and Winnie was
conducted back to the zenana.
All this Kathlyn observed. She bade the mahout go to the house of the
zenana's doctor, where she donned the habiliments familiar to the
guards and inmates of the zenana.
Everything went forward without a hitch; so smoothly that had the
object of her visit been other than Winnie, Kathlyn must have sensed
something unusual. She entered the palace and even led the way to
Winnie's chamber--a fact which appeared natural enough to the women
about, but which truly alarmed Umballa's spy, who immediately set off
in search of the man.
One thing assured her: the hands of the zenana's real physician were
broad and muscular, while the hands she saw were slender and beautiful,
brown though they were. She had seen those hands before, during the
episode of the leopards of the treasury.
It was very hard for Kathlyn to curb the wild desire to crush Winnie in
her arms, arms that truly ached for the feel of her. Even as she
fought this desire she could not but admire Winnie's superb acting.
She and her father had misjudged this butterfly. To have come all this
way alone in search of them, unfamiliar with the customs and the
language of the people! How she had succeeded in getting here without
mishap was in itself remarkable.
She took Winnie's wrist in her hand and pressed it reassuringly, then
puttered about in her medical bag. Very softly she whispered:
"I shall remain with you till dusk. Give no sign whatever that you
know me, for you will be watched. To-night I will smuggle you out of
the palace. Take these, and soon pretend to be quieted."
Winnie swallowed the bits of sugar and lay back. Kathlyn signified
that she wished to be alone with her patient. Once alone with Winnie,
she cast aside her veil.
"Oh, Kit!"
"Hush, baby! We are going to get you safely away."
"I am afraid."
"So are we all; but we must not let any one see that we are. Father
and Ahmed are near by. But oh, why did you attempt to find us?"
"But you cabled me to come, weeks ago!"
"I? Never!" And the mystery was no longer a mystery to Kathlyn. The
hand of Umballa lay bare. Could they eventually win out against a man
who seemed to miss no point in the game? "You were deceived, Winnie.
To think of it! We had escaped, were ready to sail for home, when we
learned that you had left for India. It nearly broke our hearts."
"What ever shall we do, Kit?" Winnie flung her arms round her sister
and drew her down. "My Kit!"
"We must be brave whatever happens."
"And am I not your sister?" quietly. "Do you believe in me so little?
Why shouldn't I be brave? But you've always treated me like a baby;
you never tried to prove me."
Kathlyn's arms wound themselves tightly about the slender form. . . .
And thus Umballa found them.
[Illustration: And thus Umballa found them.]
"Very touching!" he said, standing with his back to the door. "But
nicely trapped!" He laughed as Kathlyn sprang to her feet, as her hand
sought the dagger at her side. "Don't draw it," he said. "I might
hurt your arm in wrenching it away from you. Poor little fool! Back
into the cage, like a homing pigeon! Had I not known you all would
return, think you I would have given up the chase so easily? You would
not bend, so then you must break. The god Juggernaut yearns for a
sacrifice to prove that we still love and worship him. You spurned my
love; now you shall know my hate. You shall die, unpleasantly."
Quickly as a cat springs he caught her hands and wrenched them toward
him, dragging her toward the door. Winnie sprang up from the cushions,
her eyes ablaze with the fighting spirit. Too soon the door closed in
her face and she heard the bolt outside go slithering home.
Said Umballa from the corridor: "To you, pretty kitten, I shall come
later. I need you for my wife. When I return you will be all alone in
the world, truly an orphan. And do not make your eyes red needlessly."
Winnie screamed, and Kathlyn fought with the fury of a netted tigress.
For a few minutes Umballa had his hands full, but in the end he
conquered.
Outside the garden of brides three men waited in vain for the coming of
Kathlyn and her sister.
The god Juggernaut did not repose in his accustomed niche in the temple
that night. The car had to be pulled up and down a steep hill, and on
the return, owing to the darkness, it was left at the top of the hill,
safely propped to prevent its rolling down of its own accord. When the
moon rose Juggernaut's eyes gleamed like the striped cat's. Long since
he had seen a human sacrifice. Perhaps the old days would return once
more. He was weary at heart riding over sickly flowers; he wanted
flesh and bones and the music of the death-rattle. His cousins, War
and Pestilence, still took their tithes. Why should he be denied?
The whispering became a murmuring, and the murmuring grew into
excitable chattering; and by ten o'clock that night all the bazaars
knew that the ancient rites of Juggernaut were to be revived that
night. The bazaars had never heard of Nero, called Ahenobarbus, and
being without companions, they missed the greatness of their august but
hampered regent Umballa.
Always the bazaars heard news before any other part of the city. The
white Mem-sahib was not dead, but had been recaptured while posing as
the zenana physician in an attempt to rescue her sister, the new queen.
Oh, the chief city of Allaha was in the matter of choice and unexpected
amusements unrivaled in all Asia.
Yes, Umballa was not unlike Nero--to keep the populace amused so they
would temporarily forget their burdens.
But why the sudden appearance of soldiers, who stood guard at every
exit, compelling the inmates of the bazaars not to leave their houses?
Ai, ai! Why this secrecy, since they knew what was going to take
place? But the soldiers, ordinarily voluble, maintained grim silence,
and even went so far as to extend the bayonet to all those who tried to
leave the narrow streets.
"An affair of state!" was all the natives could get in answer to their
inquiries. Men came flocking to the roofs. But the moonshine made all
things ghostly. The car of the god Juggernaut was visible, but what
lay in its path could not be seen.
Umballa was not popular that night. But this was a private affair.
Well he knew the ingenuity and resources of his enemies at large.
There would be no rescue this night. Kathlyn Mem-sahib should die;
this time he determined to put fear into the hearts of the others.
Having drunk his king's peg, he was well fortified against any personal
qualms. The passion he had had for Kathlyn was dead, dead as he wanted
her to be.
Whom the gods destroy they first make mad; and Umballa was mad.
The palanquin waited in vain outside the wall of the garden of
brides--waited till a ripple of the news eddied about the conveyance in
the shape of a greatly agitated Lal Singh.
"He is really going to kill her!" he panted. "He lured her to her
sister's side, then captured her. She is to be placed beneath the car
of Juggernaut within an hour. It is to be done secretly. The people
are guarded and held in the bazaars. Ahmed, with an elephant and armed
keepers, will be here shortly. I have warned him. Umballa runs amuck!"
Suddenly they heard voices in the garden, first Umballa's, then
Kathlyn's. Sinister portents to the ears of the listeners, father and
lover and loyal friends. The former were for breaking into the garden
then and there; but a glance through the wicket gate disclosed the fact
that Umballa and Kathlyn were surrounded by fifteen or twenty soldiers.
And they dared not fire at Umballa for fear of hitting Kathlyn.
The palanquin was lastly carried out of sight.
At the end of the passage or street nearest the town was a gate that
was seldom closed. Through this one had to pass to and from the city.
Going through this gate, one could make the hill (where the car of
Juggernaut stood) within fifteen minutes, while a detour round the
walls of the ancient city would consume three-quarters of an hour.
Umballa ordered the gates to be closed and stationed a guard there.
The gates clanged behind him and Kathlyn. This time he was guarding
every entrance. If his enemies were within they would naturally be
weak in numbers; outside, they would find it extremely difficult to
make an entrance. More than this, he had sent a troop toward the
colonel's camp.
The gates had scarcely been closed when Ahmed, his elephant and his
armed keepers came into view. The men sent Pundita back to camp, and
the actual warfare began. They approached the gate, demanding to be
allowed to pass. The soldiers refused. Instantly the keepers flung
themselves furiously upon the soldiers. The trooper who held the key
threw it over the wall just before he was overpowered. But Ahmed had
come prepared. From out the howdah he took a heavy leather pad, which
he adjusted over the fore skull of the elephant, and gave a command.
The skull of the elephant is thick. Hunters will tell you that bullets
glance off it as water from the back of a duck. Thus, protected by the
leather pad, the elephant becomes a formidable battering-ram, backed by
tons of weight. Only the solidity of stone may stay him.
Ahmed's elephant shouldered through the gates grandly. For all the
resistance they offered that skull they might have been constructed of
papier mache.
Through the dust they hurried. Whenever a curious native got in the
way the butt of a rifle bestirred him out of it.
Umballa had lashed Kathlyn to a sapling which was laid across the path
of the car. The man was mad, stark mad, this night. Even the soldiers
and the devotees surrounding the car were terrified. One did not force
sacrifices to Juggernaut. One soldier had protested, and he lay at the
bottom of the hill, his skull crushed. The others, pulled one way by
greed of money and love of life, stirred no hand.
But Kathlyn Mem-sahib did not die under the broad wheels of the car of
Juggernaut. So interested in Umballa were his men that they forgot the
vigilance required to conduct such a ceremony free of interruption. A
crackling of shots, a warning cry to drop their arms, the plunging of
an elephant in the path of the car, which was already thundering down
the hill, spoiled Umballa's classic.