"Tell her she is free," said Kathlyn.

"Free?" came from the amazed Pundita's lips.

"You speak English?" cried Kathlyn excitedly.

"Yea, Majesty."

Kathlyn could have embraced her for the very joy of the knowledge. A

woman who could talk English, who could understand, who perhaps could

help! Yes, yes; the God of her fathers was good.

Umballa smiled. All this was exactly what he had reason to expect.

Seven days of authority; it would amuse him to watch her.

"Tell me your story," urged Kathlyn kindly. "Be not afraid of these

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men. I shall make you my lady in waiting . . . so long as I am queen,"

with a searching glance at Umballa's face. She learned nothing from

the half smile there.

Pundita's narrative was rather long but not uninteresting. She had

learned English from the old white priest who had died during the last

plague. She was of high caste; and far back in the days of the Great

Mogul in Delhi her forebears had ruled here; but strife and rebellion

had driven them forth. In order that her immediate forebear might

return to their native state and dwell in peace they had waived all

possible rights of accession. They had found her husband standing over

a dead man in the bazaars. He was innocent.

Umballa smoothed his chin. Pundita had not told her queen how he,

Umballa, had made the accusation, after having been refused money by

Ramabai. He secretly admired the diplomacy of the young woman. He did

not at this moment care to push his enmity too far. As a matter of

fact, he no longer cared about her; at least, not since his arrival at

the Hare wild animal farm in California.

"Where is this man Ramabai confined?" demanded Kathlyn.

"In the murderers' pit in the elephant arena."

"Send and bring him here. I am certain that he is innocent."

So they brought in Ramabai in chains. Behind him came a Nautch girl,

at whom Umballa gazed puzzledly. What part had she in this affair? He

soon found out.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Lalla Ghori, and I live over the shoemaker, Lal Singh, in the

Kashmir Gate bazaar. I dance."

"And why are you here?"

"I saw the murder. Ramabai is innocent. He came upon the scene only

after the murderer had fled. They were fighting about me," naively.

"I was afraid to tell till now."

"Knock off those chains," said Kathlyn. Of Pundita she asked: "Does

he, too, speak English?"

"Yes, heaven born."

"Then for the present he shall become my bodyguard. You shall both

remain here in the palace."

"Ah, Your Majesty!" interposed Umballa. Pundita he did not mind, but

he objected to Ramabai, secretly knowing him to be a revolutionist,

extremely popular with the people and the near-by ryots (farmers), to

whom he loaned money upon reasonable terms.




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