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.