announced to the populace that on the next fete
day the queen would confront the lions in the elephant arena. What could
one man do against such odds? Lions brought from the far Nubian deserts,
fierce, untamable.

That night there was a conference between Bruce, Ahmed and Ramabai.

"They have taken my guns away, and God knows I can't do the impossible.
Where the devil were your camels, Ahmed?"

"Umballa has his spies, Ramabai," said Ahmed, smiling, as he got into his
bheestee rags, which Ramabai had surrendered willingly enough: "Ramabai,
thou conspirator, what about the powder mines you and your friends hid
when the late king signified that he was inclined toward British
protectorate? Eh? What about the republic thou hadst dreams of? Poor
fool! It is in our blood to be ruled by kings, oppressed; we should not
know what to do with absolute freedom. There! Fear not. Why should I
betray thee? The mines. The arena is of wood."

"But there will be many of my friends there," said the bewildered
Ramabai. Who was this strange man who seemed to know everything?

"Put the mines in the center of the arena. What we want is merely terror
and confusion. Pouf! Bang! There's your miracle. And a little one
under the royal pavilion. And Umballa and the council sleep in Shaitan's
arms. Welcome, my lambs!" And Ahmed laughed noiselessly.

"By the lord!" gasped Bruce. "But the fuses? No, no, Ahmed; it can not
be done."

"In the house of my friend Lal Singh there is a cellar full of strange
magic--magic with copper wires that spit blue fires. Eh, Sahib? You and
I know; we have traveled."

"Batteries, here, in this wilderness?"

"Even so. To you, Ramabai, the powder; to me, the spitting wires; to
you, Bruce Sahib, patience. Umballa shall yet wear raw the soles of his
feet in the treadmill. He shall grind the poor man's corn. I know what
I know. Now I must be off. I shall return to-morrow night and you,
Ramabai, shall gather together your fellow conspirators (who would blow
up the palace!) and bring the mines to the arena."

And while Kathlyn gazed through the marble lattice at the bright stars
another gazed at the sunny heavens in a far country, a sprite of a girl
with dark tearful eyes. Father gone, sister gone; silence.

But a few yards away from Kathlyn a man plucked at his chains, praying to
God that he might not lose his reason. With the finished cruelty of the
East, Umballa had not visited C