When the elephants were properly saddled with the howdahs Umballa gave his attention to the prisoners. He hailed them jovially. They were old friends. What could he do for them?
"Conduct us to the seaport," said the colonel, "and on my word of honor I will tell you where we have hidden the treasure."
"Ho!" jeered Umballa, arms akimbo, "I'd be a fool to put my head into such a trap. I love you too well. Yet I am not wholly without heart. Tell me where it lies and I will let you go."
"Cut our throats at once, you beast, for none of us will tell you under any conditions save those I have named. Men," the colonel continued, "this man is an ingrate, a thief and a murderer. He has promised you much gold for your part in this. But in the end he will cheat you and destroy you."
Umballa laughed. "They have already had their earnest. Soon they will have more. But talk with them—plead, urge, promise. No more questions? Well, then, listen. Reveal to me the treasure and you may go free. If you refuse I shall take you back to Allaha—not publicly, but secretly—there to inflict what punishments I see fit."
"I have nothing more to say," replied the colonel.
"No? And thou, white goddess?"
Kathlyn stared over his head, her face expressionless. It stirred him more than outspoken contempt would have done.
"And you, pretty one?" Umballa eyed Winnie speculatively.
Winnie drew closer to her sister, that was all.