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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 24, 1914)
The Adventures of Kathlyn HAROLD MAC GRATH Illustrated by Picture* from the Moving Picture Production of the Selig Polyscope Ce. \ {Copyright by Harold MacUratU SYNOPSIS. Kathlyn Hare; believing her father. Col. Hare. In peril, has summoned her, leaves her home In California to go to him In Allaha, India. Un\balla, pretender to the throne, lias Imprisoned the colonel, named by the late king as his heir. CHAPTER II—Continued. Sadly the wretch told her the tale: the will of the king, his death, and the rubsequent death of her father In his, Lturga Rain's, arms. Yonder urn con tained his ashes. For the first time la her young life Kathlyn fainted. She had been living on her nerves for weeks, and at the sight of that urn something snapped. Daintily Um baila plucked forth the packet and waited. At leugth she opened her eyes. “You are a queen, Miss Hare." "You are mad!" “Nay; it was the madness of the king. But mad kings often make laws which must be obeyed. You will ac cuse me of perfidy when I tell yen all. The note which brought you here was written by me and substituted for this.” Dully Kathlyn read; “Kathlyn—If not heard from. I'm held captive in Allaha. The royal title given to me by the king made me and my de scendants direct heirs to the throne. Do not come to Allaha yourself. De stroy sealed document herewith. "FATHER.” The Council of Three entered noise lessly from the adjoining room. At (he four dark, Inscrutable faces the be wildered girl stared, her limbs numb with terror. Gravely the council told her she must come with them to the palace. » "It is impossible!" she murmured. "You are all mad. I am a white wom an. I cannot rule over an alien race whose tongue I cannot speak, whose habits 1 know nothing of. It is Impos sible. Since my father is dead, I must return to my home.” "No." said Umballa. “I refuse t9 stir!" She was all afire of a sudden: the base trickery which had brought here here! She was very lovely to the picturesque savage who stood at her elbow. As he looked down at her. in his troubled soul Umballa knew that it was not the throne so much as it was this beautiful bird of Paradise which he wished to cage. "Be brave,” he said, "like your fa ther. I do not wish to use force, byt you must go. It is useless to strug gle. Come.” She hung back for a moment; then, realizing her utter helplessness, she signified that she was ready to go. She needed time to collect her stunned and disordered thoughts. Before going to the palace they con ducted her to the royal crypt. The urn containing her father's ashes was deposited in a niche. Many other niches contained urns, and Umballa explained to her that these held the t.shes of many rulers. Tears welled Into K&thlyn's eyes, but they were of a hysterical character. “A good sign," mused Umballa, who thought he knew something of women, like all men beset with vanity. Oddly enough, he had forgotten all about the Incident of the lion in the freight ca boose. All women are felines to a cer tain extent. This golden-haired woman had claws, and the day was coming when he would feel them drag over his heart. ^ From the crypt they proceeded to the palace zenana (harem), which sur rounded a court of exceeding beauty. Three ladies of the harem were sitting in the portico, attended by slaves. All were curiously interested at the sight of a woman with white skin, tinted like the lotus. Umballa came to a halt before a latticed door. “Here your majesty must remain till the day of your coronation." ^ “How did my father die?" “He was assassinated on the palace steps by a Mahomedan fanatic. As I told you, he died in my arms." “His note signified that he feared imprisonment. How came he on the palace steps?" "He was not a prisoner He came and went as he pleased in the city.” He bowed and left her. Alone in her chamber, the dullness of her mind diminished and finally cleared away lifie a fog in a wind. Her dear, kind, blue-eyed father was dead, and she was virtually a prisoner, and Winnie was all alone. A queen! They were mad. or she was in the' midst of some hideous nightmare. Mad. mad, mad! She began to laugh, and it was not a pleasant sound. A queen, she Kathlyn Hare! Her father was dead, bhe was a queen, and Winnie was all alone A gale of laughter brought to the marble lattice many wondering eyes. The white cockatoo shrilled his displeasure. Those outside the lattice saw this marvelous white-skinned woman, with hair like the gold threads in Chinese brocades, suddenly throw herself upon a pile of cushions, and they saw her shoulders rock and heave, but heard no sound of wailing. After a while she fell asleep, & kind of dreamless- stupor. When she awoke it was twilight in the court. The doves were cooing and fluttering In the cornices and the cockatoo was preen ing his lemon-colored topknot. At first Kathlyn had not the least Idea where she was, but tbe light beyond the lat tice, the flitting shadows, and the tin kle of a stringed instrument assured her that she was awake, terribly awake. She sat perfectly still, slowly gather ing her strength, mental and physical. She was not her father's daughter- for nothing. She was to fight in some strange warfare, Instinctively she felt this; but from what direction, in what shape, only God knew. Yet she must prepare for It; that waa the vital thing; she must marshal her forces, feminine and only defensive, and watch. Rao! Her hands clutched the pil lows. In five days’ time he would be off to seek John Bruce; and there would be white men there, and they would come to her though a thousand legions of these brown men stood be tween. She must play for time; she must pretend docility and humility, meet guile with guile. She could get no word to her faithful khitmatgar; none here, even if open to bribery, could be made to understand. Only Umballa and the council spoke Eng lish or understood it. She had ten days’ grace; within that time she hoped to find some loophole. Slave girls entered noiselessly. The hanging lamps were lit. A tabaret was set before her. There were quail and roast kid, fruits and fragrant tea. She was not hungry, but she ate. Within a dozen yards of her sat her father, stolidly munching his chupat tis, because he knew that now he must live. • •••••• One of the chief characteristics of the East Indian is extravagance. To outvie each other in celebrations of births, weddings, deaths and corona tions they beggar themselves. In this' the oriental and the occidental have one thing in common. This principal ity was small, but there was a deal of wealth in it because of its emerald mines and turquoise pits. The durbar brought out princes and princelings from East, South and West, and even three or four wild-eyed amirs from the North. The British government at Calcutta heard vaguely about this fete, but gave it Bcant attention for the sim ple fact that it had not been invited to attend. Still it watched the per formance covertly. Usually durbar* took months of preparation; this one had been called into existence within ten days. Elephants and camels and bullocks; palanquins, gharris, tongas; cloth of gold and cloth of jewels; color, confu sion, maddening noises, and more col or. There was very little semblance of order; a rajah preceded a prince ling, and so on down. The wailing of reeds and the muttering of kettle drums; music, languorous, haunting, elusive, low minor chords seemingly struck at random, intermingling a droning chant; a thousand streams ot incense, crossing and recrossing; and fireworks at night, fireworks which had come all the way across China by caravan—these things Kathlyn saw and heard from her lattice. The populace viewed all these mani festations quietly. They were perfect ly willing to wait. If this white queen proved kind they w ould go about their affairs, leaving her in peace: but they were determined that she should be no puppet in the bands of Umballa. whom they hated for -his cruelty and money leeching ways.’ O, everything was ripe in the state for murder and loot—and the reaching, holding hand of the Brit ish Raj. As Kathlyn advanced to the can opied dais upon which she was to be The Al Fresco Throne of Allaha. crowned, a hand filled with flowers reached out. She turned to see Ah med. “Bruce Sahib,’" she whispered. Ahmed salaamed deeply as she passed on. The impression that she was dreaming again seized her. This could not possibly be real. Her feet did not seem to touch the carpets; she did not seem to breathe; she floated, it was only when the crown was placed upon her head that she realized the reality and the finality of the pro ceedings. "Be wise.” whispered Umballa, cold ly. “If you take off that crown now, neither your gods nor mine could save you from that mob down yonder. Be advised. Rise!” She obeyed. She wanted to cry out to that sea of bronze faces: “People. I do not want to be your queen. Let me go!” They would not understand. Where was Rao? Where was Bruce? What of the hope that now flickered and died in her heart, like a guttering candle light? There waa a small dag ger hidden in the folds of her white robe; she could always use that She heard Umballa speaking in the native ; tongue. A great shouting followed. The populace surged. “What have you said to them?” she demanded. “That her majesty had chosen Durga Ram to be her consort and to him now forthwith she will be wed.” He sa laamed. So the mask was off! “Marry you? O, no! Mate with you, a black?” X- . ‘ “Black?" he cried, as If a whiplash had struck him across the face. “Yes, black of skin and black of heart. I have submitted to the farce of this durbar, but that is as far as my patience will go. God will guard me.” “God?” mockingly. “Yes. my God and the God of my far thers!" To the mutable faces below she looked the queen at that Instant. They saw the attitude, but could not inter pret it. “So be it. There are other things besides marriage.” “Yes,” she replied proudly; “there is death.” CHAPTER III. The Two Ordeals. Umballa was not a coward; he was only ruthless and predatory after the manner of his kind. A thrill of admi ration tingled his spine. The women of his race were chattels, lazy and in ert, without Are, merely drudges or playthings. Here was one worth con quering, a white flame to be controlled. To bend her without breaking her, that must be his method of procedure. The skin under her chin was as white as the heart of a mangosteen, and the longing to sweep her into his arms was almost irresistible. A high priest spoke to Kathlyn. “What does he say?” she asked. “That you must marry me.” “Tell him I refuse!” Umballa shrugged and repeated her words. Here the Council of Three in terposed, warning Kathlyn that she must submit to the law as it read. There was no appeal from it. “Then I shall appeal to the British raj.” “How?" asked Umballa, urbanely. Swiftly she stepped to the front of the platform and extended her arms. It was an appeal. She pointed to Um balla and shook her head. Her arms went out again. A low murmur rippled over the pressing crowd; it grew in volume; and a frown of doubt flitted over Umballa's brow. The soldiers were swaying restlessly. Kathlyn saw this sign and was quick to seize upon its possibilities, She renewed her ges ture toward them. It seemed that she must burst forth in their mad dening tongue: “I appeal to the chivalry of Allaha! . . . Soldiers, you now wear my uniform! Liberate me!” But her tongue was mute: yet her eyes, her face, her arms spoke eloquently enough to the turbulent sol diers. Besides, they welcomed the op portunity to show the populace how strong they were and how little they feared Umballa. At a nod from their leader they came romping up the steps to the dais and surrounded Kathlyn. A roar came from the populace; an elephant trumpeted; the pariah dogs barked. Umballa stepped back, bis hand on his jeweled sword. He was quite un prepared for any such flagrant mutiny —mutiny from his angle of vision, though in law the troopers had only responded to the desire of their queen. He turned questioningly to the Council and the priests. He himself could move no further. His confreres appre ciated the danger in which their power stood. They announced that it was decreed to give the queen a respite of seven days in which to yield. It would at least hold the bold troopers on the leash till they could be brought to see the affair In its true light by the way of largess in rupees. Umballa consented because he was at the bot tom of the sack. A priest read from a scroll the law, explaining that no woman might rule unmarried. Because the young queen was not conversant with the laws of the state she would be given seven days. Thus the dur bar ended. With a diplomacy which would have graced a better man Umballa directed the troopers to escort Kathlyn to her chamber in the zenana. He had in mind seven days. Many things could be accomplished in that space of time. “For the present,” he said, smiling at Kathlyn, "the God of your fathers has proven strongest. But tomorrow! . . . Ah, tomorrow! There will be seven days Think then, deeply and wisely. Your khitmatgar Kao is a prisoner. It will be weeks ere your presence Is known here. You are helpless as a bird in the net. Struggle if you will; you will only bruise your wings. The British raj? The British raj does not want a great border war. and I can bring down ten thousand wild hill men outlaws between whom and the British raj there is a blood feud; ten thousand from a land where there is never peace, only truce. In seven days. Salaam, heaven born!” She returned bis ironical gaze calm ly over the shoulder of a trooper. “Wait," she said. “I wish you to understand the enormity of your crime.” “Crime?" with elevated eyebrows. “Yes. You have abducted me.” “No. You came of your own free will.” “The white men of my race will not pause to argue over any such subtlety. Marry you? I do not like your color.” A dull red settled under Umballa’s skin. “I merely wish to warn you,” she went on. "that my blood will be upon your head. And woe to you if it is. There are white men who will not await the coming of the British raj.” "Ah, yes; some brave, hardy Ameri can; Bruce Sahib, for instance. Alas, he is in the straits settlements! Seven days.” “I am not afraid to die.” “But there are many kinds of death.” and with this sinister reflection he stepped aside. The multitude, seeing Kathlyn com ing down from the dais, still surround ed by her cordon of troopers, began reluctantly to disperse. “Br< ,d and the circus!”—the mobs will cry it down the ages; they will alwa. pause to witness bloodshed, from a s '1 dis tance, you may be sufe. There >K' deal of rioting in the bazaars •’ night, and many a measure of and toddy kept the Area burning, ori ental politics is like the winds of the equinox: It blows from all directions. The natives were taxed upon every conceivable subject, not dissimilar to the old days in Urdu, where a man paid so much for the privilege of squeezing the man under him. Mutiny was afoot, rebellion, but it had not yet found a head. The natives wanted a change, something to gossip about dur lng the hot, lazy afternoons, over their hookahs and coffee. To them reform meant change only, not the alleviation of some of their heavy burdens. The talk of freeing slaves was but talk; slaves were lucrative investments; a man would be a fool to free them. An old man, with a skin white like this new queen’s and hair like spun wool, dressed in a long black cloak and a broad-brimmed hat, had started the agitation of liberating the slaves. More than that, be carried no idol of his God, never bathed in the ghats, or took flowers to the temples, and seemed always silently communing with the simple iron cross suspended from his neck. But he had died during the last visitation of the plague. They had wearied of their tolerant king, who had died mysteriously; they were now wearied of the council and Umballa; in other words, they knew not what they wanted, being People. Who was this fair-skinned woman who stood so straight before Umbal la's eye? Whence had she come? To be ruled by a woman who appeared to be tongue tied! Well, there were worse things than a woman who could not talk. Thus they gabbled in the ba zaars, round braziers and dung Hres. And some talked of the murder The proud Ramabai bad been haled to prison; his banker’s gold had not saved him. O, this street rat Umballa generally got what he wanted. Ra mabai s wife was one of the beauties or Hind. Through the narrow, evil smelling streets of the bazaars a man hurried that n gilt, glancing behind frequently to see if by any mischance some one followed. He stopped at the house of Lai Singh, the shoemaker, whom he found drowsing over his water pipe. “Is it well?" said the newcomer, in toning. "It la well,” answered Lai Singh, dropping the mouthpiece of his pipe. He had spoken mechanically. When he saw who his visitor was bis eyes brightened. “Ahmed?" “Hush!” with a gesture toward the ceiling. “She is out merrymaking, like the rest of her kind. The old saying: if a man waits, the woman comes to him. I am alone. There is news?” “There is a Journey. Across Hind to Simla.” “The hour has arrived?” “At least the excuse. Give these to one in authority with the British raj, whose bread we eat.” Ahmed slid across the table a very small scroll. “The memsahib is my master’s daugh ter. She must be spirited away to safety.” "Ah!" Lai Singh rubbed his fat hands. “So the time nears when we shall wring the vulture’s neck. Ai, It Is good! Umballa, the toad, who swells and swells as the days go by. Shiva has guarded him well. The king picks him out of the gutter for a pretty bit of impudence, sends him afar to Um balla, where he learns to speak Eng lish, where he learns to wear shoes that button and stiff linen bands round the neck. He has gone on, gone on! The higher up, the harder the falL” “The cellar?” “There are pistols and guns and ammunition and strange little wires by which I make magic fires.” “Batteries?” “One never knows what may be needed. You have the key?” “Yes.” "Hare Sahib's daughter. And Hare Sahib?”with twinkling eyes. “In some dungeon, mayhap. There all avenues seemed closed up.” “Umballa needs money,” said Lai Singh, thoughtfully. “But he will not find It,” in afterthought. “Tomorrow?” “At dawn.” These two men were spiders In that great web of secret service that the British raj weaves up and down and across Hind, to Persia and Afghanis tan, to the borders of the Bear. Even as Lai Singh picked up his mouthpiece again and Ahmed sallied forth into the bazaars Umballa had brought to him in the armory that company of soldiers who had shown such open mutiny, not against the state, but against him. Gravely he questioned the captain. “Pay our wages, then, heaven born.” said the captain, with veiled insolence. "Pay us, for we have seen not so much as betel money since the last big rains.” “Money,” mused Umballa, marking down this gallant captain for death when the time capm. “Ai, money; bright rupees, or, better still, yellow British gold. Pay us!” “Let us be frank with each other,” said Umballa, smiling to cover the fire in his eyes. "That is what we desire,” replied the captain, with a knowing look at his silent troopers. "I must, buy you.” The captain salaamed. “But after I have bought you?” Iron ically. “Heaven born, our blood ia yours to spill where and when you will.” From under the teak table Umballa drew forth two heavy bags of silver coin. These he emptied upon the table dramatically; white, shining metal, sparkling as the candle flames wav ered. Umballa arranged the coin in stacks, one of them triple in size. "Yours, captain," said Umballa, In dicating the large stack. The captain pocketed it, and one by I one his troopers passed and helped | themselves and fell back along the ' wall in military alignment, bright eyed 1 and watchful. “Thanks, heaven born!” The captain and his troopers filed out. Umballa fingered the empty bags, his brow wrinkled. Cut off a cobra’s head and it could only wriggle till sunset. Umballa gave the vanishing captain two weeks. Then he should vanish indeed. The nest morning while the Coun cil and Umballa were in session rela tive as to what should be done with Kathlyn in the event of her refusal to A Queen Ir Spite of Herself. bend, two soldiers entered, bringing with them a beautiful native young woman, one Pundita, wife of Ramabai, found in murder. Umballa wiped his betel-stained lips J and salaamed mockingly. Not so long ! ago he had been attentive to this young woman—after her marriage. She bad sent him about his business with burning ears and a hot cheek, made so by the contact of her strong young hand. Revenge, great or small, was always sweet to Umballa. To the slave girl who attended Pundita he said: “Go summon the queen. It is for her to decide what shall be done with this woman." Through the veil Pundita’s eyes sparkled with hatred. When Kathlyn came in it was at once explained to her that the worn i an's husband had been taken for mur der; by law his wife became the queen’s property, to dispose of as she willed. The veil was plucked from Pundita's face. She was ordered to salaam in submission to her queen. Pundita salaamed, but stoutly refused to kneel. They proceeded to force her roughly, when Kathlyn intervened. "Tell her she is free,” said Kathlyn. “Free?" came from the amazed Pundita's lips. “You speak English?” cried Kathlyn excitedly. "Yes; majesty.” Kathlyn could have embraced her for the very joy of the knowledge. A woman who could talk English, who conic, understand, who perhaps could help! Yes. yes; the God of her fa thers was good. Umballa smiled. All this was ex actly w hat he had reason to expect Seven days of authority; it would amuse him to watch her. “Tell me your story,” urged Kath lyn kindly. “Be not afraid of these men I shall make you my lady in waiting ... so long as I am a queen.” with a searching glance atUm balla's face She learned nothing from the half smile there. (TO BE CONTINUED.) SANS CLOTHES, SANS DIGNITY Paul’s Views Concerning Modest Dress of Women Were Im bibed in Childhood. The Tarsians were celebrated for the extremely modest dress of their women, who were always deeply veiled when they went abroad, remarks the Christian Herald. “As Tarsian ladies walked in the streets you could not see any part either of their faces or of their whole person, nor could they themselves see anything of their path.” In this respect they were dif ferent ffom the women of other cities which had been more thoroughly Hel enized. Those early impressions of Paul’s childhood doubtless account in part for Paul's strict rules as laid down to the Corinthians about the veiling of their women. "Every wom an that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered, dtehonoretb her head.” In another place he says, “The woman ought to have authority upon her head.” This should be translated, we are told, “The woman who has a veil on her bead wears authority on her head.” Being interpreted, this signifies that ‘‘in oriental lands the veil is the power and the honor and dignity of the woman; with the veil on her head she can go anywhere in security and profound respect; she is not seen. It is the mark of thoroughly bad manners to observe a veiled woman in the street. ... A wom an’s authbrit.v and dignity vanish along with the all-covering veil that she discards. That is the oriental view which Paul learned in Tarsus.” Inhabitability of Mar*. The question of the habitability of Mars is one on which astronomers diifer greatly. The sole .evidence in favor of the existence of intelligent beings on it is the obviously artificial nature of the so-called canals as some astronomers see them. There cannot be said to be evidence of additional canal construction on the planet, the whole question of the existence of any canal being still a matter of contro versy. *- " Good Things Must Be Used. Good is no good, but If it be spent; God gives good for no other end.— Spenser. __— '. 1 IF you are looking for something in a style of hair dressing consider this revival of one of the fascinating achievements of the time of the Em pire. After due consideration one is constrained to ponder as to whether we have ever had anything better since then. A century and more has faded into the past since this coiffure played its part, along with other super excellent modes, which helped the beauties of Napoleon's time to immor talize their charme. This pretty arrangement of the hair in waves and short curls is not intend ed to be worn with workaday clothes in the prosaic business of everyday living. It is an affair of evening dress, when satins and laces and jewels and flowers bespeak joyous appareling. Mile. Montague is shown in the pic ture wearing it with a satin and lace evening dress with flowers at her belt and pearls about her neck. Her long coat'is of brocaded Batin in rose color, bordered with a ruche of plaited ma line. She wears a moire girdle of rose color, also. Her garments are the most tasteful of up-to-date modes. The hair is waved and parted a little to one side in a very short part. This waved portion is brought to the back of the head and arranged in loose, flat coils pinned flat below the crown. The hair over the ears is separated into strands and curled in three rather tight curls. A strand of pearls, fin ished with three settings at the front, is clasped round the head. Below it across the forehead there is a slightly curled fringe of hair. Almost any fairly youthful face will find all its good points enhanced by a style of hair dressing so remarkably good that it challenges the classic models of the Greeks and divides hon ors with them. Vestees and Collars in Fall Styles TO make sure of a bit of white next the face is to be sure of added be comingness in coat or gown. Vestees and collars jn one, or collars alone, are the dominating features in fall neckwear, and they are shown in many fabrics and a still greater number of designs. Nearly all of these smart accessories are made of washable fabrics, al though fragile chiffons and silk mus lins and the finest of silk crepes are utilized to make the short-lived glory of some of them. But crisp freshness and immaculate cleanliness belong to the vestee and collar; are the essen tial reasons for their existence, in fact, so that all the finest and sheerest of wash fabrics are employed in their making. These include organdie, swiss, thin lawns, swiss embroidery, batiste, mulls, nets, voiles and laces. The choice is wide enough. Collars and vestees made the firm er weaves in wash fabrics are finished with hemstitching and often decorated with tucks. Insertions and narrow edgings of fine lace or the finest em broideries are used on them. ■ The daintiest of these neck pieces are prettily ornamented with sprays of embroidery. Narrow plaited frill* make possible a great variety in deco ration. Hemstitching. embroidered dots, and small pearl or covered but tons are additional factors that go to make up the endless variety one finds in neckwear. Roll-over collars are leaders in pop ularity, combined either with long vestees or short dickies. Severe de signs, like that shown in the picture given here, of sheer organdie, are charmingly delicate. A plain roll-over collar to which net ties are attached is decorated with tiny black pearl but tons and makes a stunnilig finish for a tailored gown. Vestees and roll-over collars of pique are compelling attention. Re cently dress sets showing collar and cuffs to match, or collar, vestee and cuffs, proclaim the revival of an old but fine style, well worthy of a new vogue. There is literally no end to the number of designs in neckwear. With so many fabrics available and a free field for the play of fancy in a world of inexpensive materials we are likely to find new things every day. I JULIA BOTT0MLEY. A Rose on the Shoulder. A rose on the shoulder Is the latest whim of fashionable milady. Of course, the rose matches or harmonizes with the gafwn or its trimming. For ex ample, & white tulle dancing costume with a pink sash has a pink rose caught against the shoulder; a yellow dance gown, with which jet beads are worn is embellished with a yellow and black rose; a deep American beauty rose may lend color to a black tulle gown. Sometimes the shoulder roses are Interchangeable, snap-buttons % 8eJed t° bodices and Uttle ends of ribbon tied to the rose stems, making it possible to wear various roses with various frocks. The rose is worn high on the shoulder, near the chin. Just at the edge of the deeply V’d decolletnge Still Looking. "Was the man here today to look for the gas leak, Kate?" ‘‘Yes, ma’am,” “Did he find it?” Yes, ma’am; but they haven't found the man yet"
