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"Yes! but," said Leonie, as she turned her face as bidden and closed her eyes with a sigh of great content, "but--but how did we escape?"
"You were saved, dear!"
"Saved!--from what? By whom?"
She tried to turn her head, but he held it pressed close against his heart.
"From death--dear heart!"
"And by whom--tell me--Jan--by whom?"
Jan Cuxson paused a moment as he looked across towards the still figure of Madhu Krishnaghar stretched peacefully upon the ground.
"By the whitest man that has ever lived, dear!--by him!"
And he turned without another word and strode through the temple and out of the gates to the narrow way which led to safety. And where the trees met in an arch above his head he stopped and looked back, and Leonie, turning her face, pa.s.sed her hand wonderingly over the tousled ma.s.ses of her hair and the silken drapery about her body.
"Where are we going to? Where are you taking me?"
He s.h.i.+fted her completely into his left arm, pulled at a golden slender chain round her neck with his right hand, caught it in his strong white teeth and wrenched it in two.
And he answered her as he flung the jewelled cat's-eye far out into the jungle.
"To Devon, beloved, to Devon and happiness!"
And as he closed her red mouth with kisses the earth shook gently under his feet, and the temple, with a terrific crash, caved in; burying for ever the dead priest, the broken image of Kali, the G.o.ddess of Destruction, and Madhu Krishnaghar, son of princes, her splendid Indian lover.
THE END
