“My friend Ahmed is bitter,” replied Ramabai patiently.

“Ai, ai!  I had Umballa in my hands and let him go!  Pardon me, Ramabai; I am indeed bitter.”

“But who will suggest this animal scheme to Umballa?” inquired Bruce.

“I.”  Ramabai salaamed.

“You will walk into the lion’s den?”

“The jackal’s,” Ramabai corrected.

“God help me!  If I only had a few men!” groaned the colonel, raising his hands to heaven.

“You will be throwing away your life uselessly, Ramabai,” said Kathlyn.

“No.  Umballa and I will understand each other completely.”

“Ramabai,” put in Ahmed, with his singular smile, “do you want a crown?”

“For myself?  No, again.  For my wife?  That is a different matter.”

“And the man in the dungeon?” ironically.

Ramabai suddenly faced the moon and stared long and silently at the brilliant planet.  In his mind there was conflict, war between right and ambition.  He seemed to have forgot those about him, waiting anxiously for him to speak.

“Ramabai,” said Ahmed craftily, “at a word from you a thousand armed men will spring into existence and within twelve hours set Pundita on yonder throne.  Why do you hesitate to give the sign?”

Ramabai wheeled quickly.

“Ahmed, silence!  I am yet an honorable man.  You know and I know how far I may go.  Trifle with me no more.”

Ahmed salaamed deeply.

“Think not badly of me, Ramabai; but I am a man of action, and it galls me to wait.”

“Are you wholly unselfish?”

It was Ahmed’s turn to address mute inquiries to the moon.

“What is all this palaver about?” Bruce came in between the two men impatiently.

“God knows!” murmured the colonel.  “One thing I know, if we stand here much longer we’ll all spend the rest of the night in prison.”

There was wisdom in this.  They marched away at once, following the path of the elephant and the loyal keepers.  There was no pursuit.  Soldiers with purses filled with promises are not overeager to face skilled marksmen.  The colonel and his followers, not being aware of this indecision, proposed camping in the first spot which afforded protection from the chill of night, not daring to make for the bungalow, certain that it was being watched.  In this they were wise, for a cordon of soldiers (with something besides promises in their purses) surrounded the camp on the chance that its owner might hazard a return.

“Now, Ramabai, what is your plan?” asked the colonel, as he wrapped Kathlyn in the howdah blanket.  “We are to pose as animal trainers.  Good.  What next?”

“A trap and a tunnel.”

“Ah!”

“There used to be one.  A part of it caved in four or five years ago.  It can be reexcavated in a night.  The men who do that shall be my own.  Your animals will be used.  To Kathlyn Mem-sahib your pet leopards will be as play fellows.  She has the eye, and the voice, and the touch.  She shall be veiled to her eyes, with a bit of ocher on her forehead.  Who will recognize her?”