Slave girls entered noiselessly. The hanging lamps were lighted. A
tabouret was set before her. There were quail and roast kid, fruits
and fragrant tea. She was not hungry, but she ate.
Within a dozen yards of her sat her father, stolidly munching his
chupatties, because he knew that now he must live.
* * * * * * One of the chief characteristics of the East Indian is extravagance.
To outvie one another in celebrations of births, weddings, deaths and
coronations they beggar themselves. In this the Oriental and the
Occidental have one thing in common. This principality was small, but
there was a deal of wealth in it because of its emerald mines and
turquoise pits. The durbar brought out princes and princelings from
east, south and west, and even three or four wild-eyed ameers from the
north. The British government at Calcutta heard vaguely about this
fete, but gave it scant attention for the simple fact that it had not
been invited to attend. Still, it watched the performance covertly.
Usually durbars took months of preparation; this one had been called
into existence within ten days.
Elephants and camels and bullocks; palanquins, gharries, tongas; cloth
of gold and cloth of jewels; color, confusion, maddening noises, and
more color. There was very little semblance of order; a rajah preceded
a princeling, and so on down. The wailing of reeds and the muttering
of kettle drums; music, languorous, haunting, elusive, low minor chords
seemingly struck at random, intermingling a droning chant; a thousand
streams of incense, crossing and recrossing; and fireworks at night,
fireworks which had come all the way across China by caravan--these
things Kathlyn saw and heard from her lattice.
The populace viewed all these manifestations quietly. They were
perfectly willing to wait. If this white queen proved kind they would
go about their affairs, leaving her in peace; but they were determined
that she should be no puppet in the hands or Umballa, whom they hated
for his cruelty and money leeching ways. Oh, everything was ripe in
the state for murder and loot--and the reaching, holding hand of the
British Raj.
As Kathlyn advanced to the canopied dais upon which she was to be
crowned, a hand filled with flowers reached out. She turned to see
Ahmed.
"Bruce Sahib," she whispered.
Ahmed salaamed deeply as she passed on. The impression that she was
dreaming again seized her. This could not possibly be real. Her feet
did not seem to touch the carpets; she did not seem to breathe; she
floated. It was only when the crown was placed upon her head that she
realized the reality and the finality of the proceedings.
[Illustration: Ahmed salaamed deeply.] "Be wise," whispered Umballa coldly. "If you take off that crown now,
neither your gods nor mine could save you from that mob down yonder.
Be advised. Rise!"