.

." "The white goddess!" cried Umballa, as if stung by a cobra's fang.
"Ay, Highness.

She did not die on that roof.

Nothing can harm her.
It is written." "And I was never told!" She lived, lived, and all the terrors he had evoked for her were as naught! Umballa was not above superstition himself for all his European training.

Surely this girl of the white people was imbued with something more than mortal.