Bruce, indeed!  At that very moment he was rushing out of the Kumor’s presence, wild to be off toward the road to Allaha, since Kathlyn had not been seen upon it.  He found where Rajah had veered off into the jungle again, and followed the trail tirelessly.  But it was to be his misfortune always to arrive too late.

To Kathlyn the day passed with nothing more than the curiosity of the natives to disturb her.  They brought her cotton blankets which she arranged in the sarcophagus.  There were worse beds in the world than this; at least it shielded her from the bitter night wind.

She ate again at sundown and builded high the sacred fire and tried to plan some manner of escape; for she did not propose to be a demi-goddess any longer than was necessary.  From Pundita she had learned many words and a few phrases in Hindustani, and she ventured to speak them to the holy men, who seemed quite delighted.  They could understand her, but she on her part could make little or nothing of their jabbering.  Nevertheless, she pretended.

Finally the holy men departed, after having indicated the sacred fire and the wood beside it.  This fire pleased Kathlyn mightily.  While it burned brightly the lion would not prowl in her immediate vicinity.  She wondered where this huge cat had come from, since she knew her natural history well enough to know that African lions did not inhabit this part of the globe.  Doubtless it had escaped from some private menagerie.

The fire, then, giving her confidence, she did not get into the sarcophagus, but wandered about, building in her fancy the temple as it had stood in its prime.  The ceilings had been magnificently carved, no two subjects alike; and the walls were of marble and jasper and porphyry.  A magic continent this Asia in its heyday.  When her forefathers had been rude barbarians, sailing the north seas or sacrificing in Druidical rites, there had been art and culture here such as has never been surpassed.  India, of splendid pageants, of brave warriors and gallant kings!  Alas, how the mighty had fallen!  About her, penury, meanness, hypocrisy, uncleanliness, thievery and unbridled passions. . . .  What was that?  Her heart missed a beat.  That pad-pad; that sniffling noise!

She whirled about, knocking over an idol.  It came down with a crash and, being of clay, lay in shards at her feet. (Unfortunately it was the holy of holies in this temple.) How she gained the shelter of the sarcophagus she never knew, but gain it she did, and cowered down within.  She could hear the beast trotting round and round, sniffling and rumbling in his throat.  Then the roaring of the preceding night was repeated.  The old fellow evidently could not find those other lions who roared back at him so valiantly.  Evidently fire had no terrors for him.  For an hour or more he patrolled the portico, and all this time Kathlyn did not stir, hardly daring to breathe for fear he might undertake to peer into the sarcophagus.