She ran up the steps.

.

.

to be greeted inside by the suave Umballa.
"You ?" her hand flying to her bosom.
"I, Miss Hare." He salaamed, with a sweeping gesture of his hands.
Sadly the wretch told her the tale; the will of the king, his death and the subsequent death of her father in his, Durga Ram's, arms.

Yonder urn contained his ashes.