"God knows!" murmured the colonel. "One thing I know, if we stand here much longer we'll all spend the rest of the night in prison."
There was wisdom in this. They marched away at once, following the path of the elephant and the loyal keepers. There was no pursuit. Soldiers with purses filled with promises are not overeager to face skilled marksmen. The colonel and his followers, not being aware of this indecision, proposed camping in the first spot which afforded protection from the chill of night, not daring to make for the bungalow, certain that it was being watched. In this they were wise, for a cordon of soldiers (with something besides promises in their purses) surrounded the camp on the chance that its owner might hazard a return.
"Now, Ramabai, what is your plan?" asked the colonel, as he wrapped Kathlyn in the howdah blanket. "We are to pose as animal trainers. Good. What next?"
"A trap and a tunnel."
"Ah!"
"There used to be one. A part of it caved in four or five years ago. It can be reexcavated in a night. The men who do that shall be my own. Your animals will be used. To Kathlyn Mem-sahib your pet leopards will be as play fellows. She has the eye, and the voice, and the touch. She shall be veiled to her eyes, with a bit of ocher on her forehead. Who will recognize her?"
"The sight of you, Ramabai, will cause him to suspect."
"That remains in the air. There must be luck in it."
"If Umballa can be lured to drink his pegs." Then, with an impatient gesture Ahmed added: "Folly! What! Umballa and the council will not recognize the Colonel Sahib's hair, the Mem-sahib's golden head?"
"In the go-down of Lal Singh, the cobbler, there are many things, even wigs and false beards," retorted Ramabai slyly.