things,
but his safety lay in the fact that the populace at large were
incapable of reasoning for themselves; they saw only that which was
visible to the eye.

On the palace steps he harangued the people, praising his deeds. He
alone had gone into the wilderness and faced death to ransom their
lawful king. Why these bonds? The king had shirked his duty; he had
betrayed his trust; but in order that the people should be no longer
without a head, this man should become their prisoner king; he should
be forced to sign laws for their betterment. Without the royal
signature the treasury could not be touched, and now the soldiers
should be paid in full.

From the soldiers about came wild huzzahs.

Ahmed and Lal Singh, packed away in the heart of the crowd, exchanged
gloomy looks. Once the army was Umballa's, they readily understood
what would follow: Umballa would acclaim himself, and the troops would
back him.

"We have a thousand guns and ten thousand rounds of ammunition,"
murmured Lal Singh.

"Perhaps we had best prevail upon Ramabai to strike at once. But wait.
The Colonel Sahib understands. He knows that if he signs anything it
will directly proved his death-warrant. There is still an obstacle at
Umballa's feet. Listen!"

Sadly Umballa recounted his adventure in full. The daughter of the
king and his friend, the American hunter, were dead. He, Umballa, had
arrived too late.

The colonel, mad with rage, was about to give Umballa the lie publicly,
when he saw a warning hand uplifted, and below that hand the face of
Ahmed. Ahmed shook his head. The colonel's shoulders drooped. In
that sign he read danger.

"They live," said Ahmed. "That is enough for the present. Let us
begone to the house of Ramabai."

"The Colonel Sahib is safe for the time being."

"And will be so long as he refuses to open the treasury door to
Umballa. There is a great deal to smile about, Lal Singh. Here is a
treasury, guarded by seven leopards, savage as savage can be. Only two
keepers ever dare approach them, and these keepers refuse to cage the
leopards without a formal order from the king or queen. Superstition
forbids Umballa to make way with the brutes. The people, your people
and mine, Lal Singh, believe that these leopards are sacred, and any
who kills them commits sacrilege, and you know what that amounts to
here. So there he dodders; too cowardly to fly in the face of
superstition. He must torture and hum