o give me proper aid. There is no
possible way for you to cover up my appearance here. Send me to the
commissioner's bungalow, where I may await the coming of my friends."

"Indeed!" The Kumor saw here a conflict not altogether to his liking.
He was lazy, and there was the damnable, unrelenting hand of the
British Raj looming in the distance. He shrugged. "Achmet, call the
captain of the guard and have him convey this runaway queen to Allaha.
Surely, I may not meddle with the affairs of a friendly state." With a
wave of his fat bejeweled hand he appeared to dismiss the matter from
his mind.

Kathlyn was led away. The human mind can stand only so many shocks.

Outside the palace courtyard stood Rajah, the howdah securely attached
once more, Kathlyn was bidden to mount. A water bottle and some cakes
were placed in the howdah beside her. Then a drunken mahout mounted
behind Rajah's ears. The elephant did not like the feel of the man's
legs, and he began to sway ominously. Nevertheless, he permitted the
mahout to direct him to one of the city gates, the soldiers trooping
alongside.

It appeared that there was a much shorter route to Allaha. Time being
essential, Bruce had had to make for the frontier blindly, as it were.
The regular highway was a moderately decent road which led along the
banks of one of those streams which eventually join the sacred Jumna.
This, of course, was also sacred. Many Hindus were bathing in the
ghats. They passed by these and presently came upon a funeral pyre.

Sometimes one sleeps with one's eyes open, and thus it was with
Kathlyn. Out of that funeral pyre her feverish thoughts builded a
frightful dream.

* * * * * *

The drunken mahout slid off Rajah; the soldiers turned aside. Hired
female mourners were kneeling about, wailing and beating their breasts,
while behind them stood the high caste widow, her face as tragic as
Dido's at the pyre of Aeneas. Suddenly she threw her arms high over
her head.

"I am suttee!"

Suttee! It was against the law of the British Raj. The soldiers began
arguing with the widow, but only half heartedly. It was a pious rite,
worthy of the high caste Hindu's wife. Better death on the pyre than a
future like that of a pariah dog. For a wife who preferred to live
after her husband was gone was a social outcast, permitted not to wed
again, to exist only as a drudge, a menial, the scum and contempt of
all wh