The men remounted after this and rode away, but not far, for when the shores of the lake were reached they halted, and made preparations to spend the night. Even at the villa the low hum of their voices could be heard as they discussed the subject which had brought them here.
After their departure Mr. Bruce stepped up to Onrai, who was standing, lost in thought over the unexpected turn which events had taken, and said, “What is it, Onrai?”
“I cannot tell,” said the King, “but the people seem to have taken a sudden fear of your party. Never before have I seen this quality in my people and it worries me, for now that it is aroused it is hard to tell where it will end.”
“But why should this sudden dislike and fear of us have taken possession of them,” asked Mr. Bruce. “Heretofore they have done all in their power to make our stay in their country pleasant. Something strange must have happened to make them change so suddenly.”
“Have no fear, my friends,” said Onrai. “Whatever it is, I will learn to-morrow and then I will know how to meet their arguments. They will abide by my decision and will again extend to you their friendship.”
They were now called into the sick-room for Enola had again awakened. She was still raving about Gip, nothing else seeming to break through the dark pall which had fallen over her mind. Loudly she called “Gip, Gip, Gip,” half raising from her couch.
As if in answer to her call a noise is heard outside and through one of the open arches Gip pushes his great bandaged head. Enola seems to hear the sound and, turning, sees the mighty head and before they can restrain her, she springs forward and clasping the trunk in her arms cries, “My noble, true friend, Gip, you have saved me.”
CHAPTER XXII.
“THEY MUST DIE!”
Yes, Gip, the great, noble, loyal Gip, had saved Enola. When that great cry of hers had broken out, it had floated through the arches and out to the open stables where Gip had been placed. He had just been raised to his feet preparatory to having his wounds rebandaged, and as the agonized cry reached him, he raised his head and listened, and when the second cry came he pushed the attendants aside who tried to stop him and limping and almost falling he started for the open arches through which the sound came. Such loyalty, such love for a mistress had never before been displayed by the domestic animals of On and Onrai and the attendants looked with astonishment at Gip as he pushed his great head through the arch of Enola’s apartment, and gave that peculiar cry.
Enola a moment before had seemed very close to death’s door, her breath being scarcely perceptible and no movement of the body showing any signs of life. But she had awakened and in her delirium had called on that friend who had shared the danger with her and had suffered in trying to protect her. Her movement had been so quick when she had seen Gip, that those about her had not time to stop her before she had fallen on the floor clasping the great trunk of the animal. But it was well perhaps that they did not, for any hindrance or objection on their part in allowing her to go to that protector, the only one she had recognized, might have resulted seriously to her reason, that reason which was already darkened, but which now gave a glimpse of light.