“Your sin?” asked Harry. “Do you consider it a sin when you did not realize that it was love that had taken possession of you? I would not call it by such a name.”
“Still it was a sin,” said Onrai, “for I had allowed myself to be drawn into its meshes without even making an effort to extricate myself. To escape this tempter it is necessary that we guard against the influences which lead to it, and I have not done this.”
“But, King, could you, after your discovery, tear this love from your breast and go on as if you had never experienced this grand emotion?” questioned Harry again.
“I must,” answered Onrai, “for it would be death for me to nurture it and allow it to influence my life, which it would do if I did not kill it. Still, the struggle will be terrible, and I know not how it will end. It is too early now in the fight, perhaps, to expect great results, but I almost doubt my strength to overcome its machinations. But I must see her,” and Onrai hurried toward the door of Enola’s apartment, Mr. Bruce having beckoned him to come.
CHAPTER XX.
THE AGONY OF ONRAI.
The day must have seemed interminable to the wounded elephant as he lay on the hard, sand-covered earth. All that could be done for his comfort, however, had been done; his wounds had been dressed again in the evening and repeated efforts had been made to get him on his feet, but without success. They had, though, gotten him on his haunches and he seemed easier in this position. They had gone to the villa and procured ropes and a sort of pulley, which they were now rigging to one of the trees above Gip. They thought that by getting him on his feet he might be able to walk to the villa stables, as the trouble all lay in the right foreleg, which had been sprained by the log striking it. The block and fall had been rigged and the rope worked under the immense body and fastened in a loop; then two other elephants were hitched to the other end of the rope and started. They moved slowly, and as the rope tightened about Gip’s shoulders, he did all in his power to help regain his feet. But his help was not needed for the two elephants lifted him bodily until his forelegs were pulled from off the ground, his hind feet alone touching; then he was lowered until the forelegs again touched the ground, and after awhile, when he had become used to the weight, the rope was taken from about his body and the other two elephants taking up a position, one on either side of him, he was gently urged to take a step forward.
It was painful to see the effort he made to walk. His right foreleg was stiff and he had to limp in a distressing manner. It took a long time to reach the villa stables, where a soft bed had been made for him with a sling rigged above, so that he could be raised or lowered as the attendants saw fit.
“I declare,” said Mr. Bruce, “it does me good to see the brave animal housed. If it were not for him we would not now have even a small hope of Enola again being with us, alive and well.”
“It is a small hope, indeed,” said Mr. Graham. “But it is a hope, and even that is better than knowing that the bruised and mangled body lay buried under a pile of debris. Gip, you do not realize the full significance of your brave act. It may mean health and happiness or it may mean suffering and mental death. God forbid that it should be the latter.”
Mr. Graham and Mr. Bruce now turned and went into the house and direct to Enola’s apartment. She lay still in that death-like sleep into which she had fallen after taking the morphine. Mr. Bruce looked at her anxiously, and stepping up to her couch, felt her pulse.