“For that,” said Bruce, “thanks.”

“Keep your men from the walls,” cried Kathlyn, “and bring me the white elephant.  I would deal with this man Umballa.”

Her request was granted.  So when Durga Ram and has soldiers arrived before the closed gates they beheld Kathlyn mounted on the white elephant alone.

“What wish you here, Durga Ram?” she called down to the man on the richly caparisoned war elephant.

“You!  Your father and those who have helped you to escape.”

“Indeed!  Well, then, come and take us.”

“I would speak with Bala Khan,” imperiously.

“You will deal with me alone,” declared Kathlyn.

Umballa reached for his rifle, but a loud murmur from the men stayed his impulse.

“It is the sacred white elephant, Highness.  None dare fire at that,” his captain warned him.  “Those with him or upon him are in sanctity.”

“Tell Bala Khan,” said Umballa, controlling his rage as best he could, “tell Bala Khan that I would be his friend, not his enemy.”

“Bala Khan,” boomed a voice from the other side of the wall, “cares not for your friendship.  Whatever the Mem-sahib says is my word.  What!  Does Allaha want war for the sake of gratifying Durga Ram’s spite?  Begone, and thank your evil gods that I am not already at your lying treacherous throat.  Take yourself off, Durga Ram.  The people of Bala Khan do not make war on women and old men.  The Mem-sahib and her friends are under my protection.”

“I will buy them!” shouted Umballa, recollecting the greed of Bala Khan.

“My word is not for sale!” came back.

Kathlyn understood by the expression on Umballa’s countenance what was taking place.  She smiled down at her enemy.

“So be it, Bala Khan,” snarled Umballa, his rage no longer on the rein.  “In one month’s time I shall return, and of your city there will not be one stone upon another when I leave it!”

“One month!” Ramabai laughed.

“Why are you always smiling, Ramabai?” asked Bruce.

“I have had a dream, Sahib,” answered Ramabai, still smiling.  “Umballa will not return here.”

“You could tell me more than that.”

“I could, but will not,” the smile giving way to sternness.

“If only I knew what had become of Ahmed,” said the colonel, when the last of Umballa’s soldiers disappeared whence they had come, “I should feel content.”

“We shall find him, or he will find us, if he is alive,” said Kathlyn.  “Now let us make ready for the last journey.  One hundred miles to the west is the Arabian gulf.  It is a caravan port, and there will be sailing vessels and steamships.”  She shook him by the shoulders joyously.  “Dad, we are going home, home!”

“Kit, I want to see Winnie!”

The word sent a twinge of pain through Bruce’s heart.  Home!  Would he ever have a real one?  Was she to go out of his life at last?  Kathlyn Hare.