And then Bruce discovered her upon the wall.  It took but a moment to bring the elephant alongside; and Kathlyn dropped down into the howdah.

“A narrow squeak, dad,” was all she said.

“Let us get on our way,” said the colonel hoarsely.  “And remember, shoot to kill any man who attempts to stop us.  My Kit!” embracing Kathlyn.  “Perhaps the escape of the leopards is the luckiest thing that could have happened.  It will keep them all busy for an hour or more.  Since Umballa believes you to be dead, he will be concerned about my disappearance only.  And it will be some time ere they learn of my escape.  Forward, Ahmed!  This time . . .”

“Don’t, father!” interrupted Kathlyn.  “Perhaps we shall escape, but none of us is sure.  Let us merely hope.  I’m so tired!”

Bruce reached over and pressed her hand reassuringly; and the colonel eyed him as from a new angle.

“Good!” he murmured under his breath; “nothing better could happen.  He is a man, and a tried one, I know.  Good!  If once we get clear of this hell, I shall not stand in their way.  But Winnie, Winnie; what in God’s name will that kitten be doing all these terrible weeks?  Will she try to find us?  The first telegraph office we reach I must cable her under no circumstances to stir from home.  Ahmed,” he said aloud, “how far are we from the nearest telegraph station?”

“Three days, Sahib.”

“Shall we be obliged to stop at the gate to change our mounts?”

“No, Sahib; only to take supplies enough to last us.”

“Lose as little time as you can.  Now drop the curtains, Bruce.”

So through the streets they hurried, unmolested.  Those who saw the curtained howdah took it for granted that some unsuccessful candidate was returning to her home.

It was well for Kathlyn that she had made up her mind to leap for the vines at the moment she did.  For the elephants had not left the first turn in the street when keepers and soldiers came running pell-mell into the street with ropes and ladders, prepared for the recapture of the treasury leopards, which, of course, were looked upon as sacred.

At the ancient gate the fugitives paused for the supplies awaiting them.  Ahmed was not known to the guards there; that was good fortune.  In the dialect he jested with them, winked and nodded toward the curtained howdah.  The guards laughed; they understood.  Some disappointed houri was returning whence she had come.  Ahmed took his time; he had no reason to hurry.  Nothing must pass which would arouse the suspicions of the guards; and haste always alarmed the Oriental.

To the colonel, however, things appeared to lag unnecessarily.  He finally lost patience and swept back the curtain despite Bruce’s restraining hand.  A native mahout, who had been loitering in town that day, recognized at once the royal turban which the colonel still wore.  The colonel’s face meant nothing; the turban, everything.  The mahout stood stock-still for a moment, not quite believing his eyes.  By this time, however, Ahmed was comfortably straddled back of his elephant’s ears and was jogging along the road.