MR. ISAACSA TALE OF MODERN INDIA

BY F. MARION CRAWFORD

1882

BY F. MARION CRAWFORD

CHAPTER I. 

In spite of Jean-Jacques and his school, men are not everywhere bornfree, any more than they are everywhere in chains, unless these be oftheir own individual making. Especially in countries where excessiveliberty or excessive tyranny favours the growth of that class mostusually designated as adventurers, it is true that man, by his owndominant will, or by a still more potent servility, may rise to anygrade of elevation; as by the absence of these qualities he may fall toany depth in the social scale. 

Wherever freedom degenerates into license, the ruthless predatoryinstinct of certain bold and unscrupulous persons may, and almostcertainly will, place at their disposal the goods, the honours, and thepreferment justly the due of others; and in those more numerous andcertainly more unhappy countries, where the rule of the tyrant issubstituted for the law of God, the unwearying flatterer, patient underblows and abstemious under high-feeding, will assuredly make his way topower. 

Without doubt the Eastern portion of the world, where an hereditary, orat least traditional, despotism has never ceased since the earliestsocial records, and where a mode of thought infinitely more degradingthan any feudalism has become ingrained in the blood and soul of thechief races, presents far more favourable conditions to the growth anddevelopment of the true adventurer than are offered in any free country. For in a free country the majority can rise and overthrow the favouriteof fortune, whereas in a despotic country they cannot. Of Easterncountries in this condition, Russia is the nearest to us; though perhapswe understand the Chinese character better than the Russian. The Ottomanempire and Persia are, and always have been, swayed by a clever band offlatterers acting through their nominal master; while India, under thekindly British rule, is a perfect instance of a ruthless militarydespotism, where neither blood nor stratagem have been spared inexacting the uttermost farthing from the miserable serfs--they arenothing else--and in robbing and defrauding the rich of their just andlawful possessions. All these countries teem with stories of adventurersrisen from the ranks to the command of armies, of itinerant merchantswedded to princesses, of hardy sailors promoted to admiralties, ofhalf-educated younger sons of English peers dying in the undisputedpossession of ill-gotten millions. With the strong personal despotism ofthe First Napoleon began a new era of adventurers in France; not ofelegant and accomplished adventurers like M. De St. Germain, Cagliostro, or the Comtesse de la Motte, but regular rag-tag-and-bobtail cut-throatmoss-troopers, who carved and slashed themselves into notice by sheeranimal strength and brutality. 

There is infinitely more grace and romance about the Eastern adventurer. There is very little slashing and hewing to be done there, and whatthere is, is managed as quietly as possible. When a Sultan must be ridof the last superfluous wife, she is quietly done up in a parcel with afew shot, and dropped into the Bosphorus without more ado. The goodold-fashioned Rajah of Mudpoor did his killing without scandal, and whenthe kindly British wish to keep a secret, the man is hanged in a quietplace where there are no reporters. As in the Greek tragedies, thebutchery is done behind the scenes, and there is no glory connected withthe business, only gain. The ghosts of the slain sometimes appear in thecolumns of the recalcitrant Indian newspapers and gibber a feeble little"Otototoi!" after the manner of the shade of Dareios, but there is verylittle heed paid to such visitations by the kindly British. But thoughthe "raw head and bloody bones" type of adventurer is little in demandin the East, there is plenty of scope for the intelligent and waryflatterer, and some room for the honest man of superior gifts, who issufficiently free from Oriental prejudice to do energetically the thingwhich comes in his way, distancing all competitors for the favours offortune by sheer industry and unerring foresight. 

I once knew a man in the East who was neither a flatterer norfreebooter, but who by his own masterly perseverance worked his way toimmense wealth, and to such power as wealth commands, though his highview of the social aims of mankind deterred him from mixing in politicalquestions. _Bon chien chasse de race_ is a proverb which applies tohorses, cattle, and men, as well as to dogs; and in this man, who was anoble type of the Aryan race, the qualities which have made that racedominant were developed in the highest degree. The sequel, indeed, mightlead the ethnographer into a labyrinth of conjecture, but the story istoo tempting a one for me to forego telling it, although the saidethnographer should lose his wits in striving to solve the puzzle. 

In September, 1879, I was at Simla in the lower Himalayas, --at the timeof the murder of Sir Louis Cavagnari at Kabul, --being called there inthe interests of an Anglo-Indian newspaper, of which I was then editor. In other countries, notably in Europe and in America, there are hundredsof spots by the sea-shore, or on the mountain-side, where specific illsmay be cured by their corresponding antidotes of air or water, or both. Following the aristocratic and holy example of the Bishops of Salzburgfor the last eight centuries, the sovereigns of the Continent are toldthat the air and waters of Hofgastein are the only nenuphar for theover-taxed brain in labour beneath a crown. The self-indulgent sybariteis recommended to Ems, or Wiesbaden, or Aix-la-Chapelle, and thequasi-incurable sensualist to Aix in Savoy, or to Karlsbad in Bohemia. In our own magnificent land Bethesdas abound, in every state, from theattractive waters of lotus-eating Saratoga to the magnetic springs ofLansing, Michigan; from Virginia, the carcanct of sources, the heaving, the warm, the hot sulphur springs, the white sulphur, the alum, to thehot springs of Arkansas, the Ultima Thule of our migratory anddespairing humanity. But in India, whatever the ailing, low fever, highfever, "brandy pawnee" fever, malaria caught in the chase of tigers inthe Terai, or dysentery imbibed on the banks of the Ganges, there isonly one cure, the "hills;" and chief of "hill-stations" is Simla. 

On the hip rather than on the shoulder of the aspiring Himalayas, Simla--or Shumla, as the natives call it--presents during the wetmonsoon period a concourse of pilgrims more varied even than theBagnères de Bigorre in the south of France, where the gay Frenchman askspermission of the lady with whom he is conversing to leave her abruptly, in order to part with his remaining lung, the loss of the first havingbrought him there. "Pardon, madame, " said he, "je m'en vais cracher monautre poumon. "

To Simla the whole supreme Government migrates for the summer--Viceroy, council, clerks, printers, and hangers-on. Thither the high officialfrom the plains takes his wife, his daughters, and his liver. There thejournalists congregate to pick up the news that oozes through thepent-house of Government secrecy, and failing such scant drops ofinformation, to manufacture as much as is necessary to fill the columnsof their dailies. On the slopes of "Jako"--the wooded eminence thatrises above the town--the enterprising German establishes hisconcert-hall and his beer-garden; among the rhododendron trees MadameBlavatzky, Colonel Olcott and Mr. Sinnett move mysteriously in theperformance of their wonders; and the wealthy tourist from America, thebotanist from Berlin, and the casual peer from Great Britain, are notwanting to complete the motley crowd. There are no roads in Simla properwhere it is possible to drive, excepting one narrow way, reserved when Iwas there, and probably still set apart, for the exclusive delectationof the Viceroy. Every one rides--man, woman, and child; and everyvariety of horseflesh may be seen in abundance, from Lord SteepletonKildare's thoroughbreds to the broad-sterned equestrian vessel of Mr. Currie Ghyrkins, the Revenue Commissioner of Mudnugger in Bengal. But Ineed not now dwell long on the description of this highly-favoured spot, where Baron de Zach might have added force to his demonstration of theattraction of mountains for the pendulum. Having achieved my orientationand established my servants and luggage in one of the reputed hotels, Ibegan to look about me, and, like an intelligent American observer, as Ipride myself that I am, I found considerable pleasure in studying outthe character of such of the changing crowd on the verandah and on themall as caught my attention. 

At last the dinner-hour came. With the rest I filed into the largedining-room and took my seat. The place allotted to me was the last atone side of the long table, and the chair opposite was vacant, thoughtwo remarkably well-dressed servants, in turbans of white and gold, stood with folded arms behind it, apparently awaiting their master. Norwas he long in coming. I never remember to have been so much struck bythe personal appearance of any man in my life. He sat down opposite me, and immediately one of his two servants, or _khitmatgars_, as they arecalled, retired, and came back bearing a priceless goblet and flask ofthe purest old Venetian mould. Filling the former, he ceremoniouslypresented his master with a brimming beaker of cold water. Awater-drinker in India is always a phenomenon, but a water-drinker whodid the thing so artistically was such a manifestation as I had neverseen. I was interested beyond the possibility of holding my peace, andas I watched the man's abstemious meal, --for he ate little, --Icontrasted him with our neighbours at the board, who seemed to be vying, like the captives of Circe, to ascertain by trial who could swallow themost beef and mountain mutton, and who could absorb the most"pegs"--those vile concoctions of spirits, ice, and soda-water, whichhave destroyed so many splendid constitutions under the tropical sun. AsI watched him an impression came over me that he must be an Italian. Iscanned his appearance narrowly, and watched for a word that shouldbetray his accent. He spoke to his servant in Hindustani, and I noticedat once the peculiar sound of the dental consonants, never to beacquired by a northern-born person. 

Before I go farther, let me try and describe Mr. Isaacs; I certainlycould not have done so satisfactorily after my first meeting, butsubsequent acquaintance, and the events I am about to chronicle, threwme so often in his society, and gave me such ample opportunities ofobservation, that the minutest details of his form and feature, as wellas the smallest peculiarities of his character and manner, are indeliblygraven in my memory. 

Isaacs was a man of more than medium stature, though he would never bespoken of as tall. An easy grace marked his movements at all times, whether deliberate or vehement, --and he often went to each extreme, --agrace which no one acquainted with the science of the human frame wouldbe at a loss to explain for a moment. The perfect harmony of all theparts, the even symmetry of every muscle, the equal distribution of astrength, not colossal and overwhelming, but ever ready for action, thenatural courtesy of gesture--all told of a body in which true proportionof every limb and sinew were at once the main feature and the pervadingcharacteristic. This infinitely supple and swiftly-moving figure was butthe pedestal, as it were, for the noble face and nobler brain to whichit owed its life and majestic bearing. A long oval face of a wondroustransparent olive tint, and of a decidedly Oriental type. A prominentbrow and arched but delicate eyebrows fitly surmounted a nose smoothlyaquiline, but with the broad well-set nostrils that bespeak activecourage. His mouth, often smiling, never laughed, and the lips, thoughclosely meeting, were not thin and writhing and cunning, as one so oftensees in eastern faces, but rather inclined to a generous Greek fullness, the curling lines ever ready to express a sympathy or a scorn which, thecommanding features above seemed to control and curb, as the stern, square-elbowed Arab checks his rebellious horse, or gives him the rein, at will. 

But though Mr. Isaacs was endowed with exceptional gifts of beauty by abountiful nature, those I have enumerated were by no means what firstattracted the attention of the observer. I have spoken of his gracefulfigure and perfect Iranian features, but I hardly noticed either at ourfirst meeting. I was enthralled and fascinated by his eyes. I once sawin France a jewel composed of six precious stones, each a gem of greatvalue, so set that they appeared to form but one solid mass, yielding astrange radiance that changed its hue at every movement, and multipliedthe sunlight a thousand-fold. Were I to seek a comparison for myfriend's eyes, I might find an imperfect one in this masterpiece of thejeweler's art. They were dark and of remarkable size; when half closedthey were long and almond-shaped; when suddenly opened in anger orsurprise they had the roundness and bold keenness of the eagle's sight. There was a depth of life and vital light in them that told of thepent-up force of a hundred generations of Persian magii. They blazedwith the splendour of a god-like nature, needing neither meat nor strongdrink to feed its power. 

My mind was made up. Between his eyes, his temperance, and his dentalconsonants, he certainly might be an Italian. Being myself a native ofItaly, though an American by parentage, I addressed him in the language, feeling comparatively sure of his answer. To my surprise, and somewhatto my confusion, he answered in two words of modern Greek--"[Greek: _denenoêsa_]"--"I do not understand. " He evidently supposed I was speaking aGreek dialect, and answered in the one phrase of that tongue which heknew, and not a good phrase at that. 

"Pardon me, " said I in English, "I believed you a countryman, andventured to address you in my native tongue. May I inquire whether youspeak English?"

I was not a little astonished when he answered me in pure English, andwith an evident command of the language. We fell into conversation, andI found him pungent, ready, impressive, and most entertaining, thoroughly acquainted with Anglo-Indian and English topics, andapparently well read. An Indian dinner is a long affair, so that we hadample time to break the ice, an easy matter always for people who arenot English, and when, after the fruit, he invited me to come down andsmoke with him in his rooms, I gladly availed myself of the opportunity. We separated for a few moments, and I despatched my servant to themanager of the hotel to ascertain the name of the strange gentleman wholooked like an Italian and spoke like a fellow of Balliol. Havingdiscovered that he was a "Mr. Isaacs, " I wended my way through verandahsand corridors, preceded by a _chuprassie_ and followed by mypipe-bearer, till I came to his rooms. 

The fashion of the hookah or narghyle in India has long disappeared fromthe English portion of society. Its place has been assumed and usurpedby the cheroot from Burmah or Trichinopoli, by the cigarette from Egypt, or the more expensive Manilla and Havana cigars. I, however, in an earlyburst of Oriental enthusiasm, had ventured upon the obsolete fashion, and so charmed was I by the indolent aromatic enjoyment I got from therather cumbrous machine, that I never gave it up while in the East. Sowhen Mr. Isaacs invited me to come and smoke in his rooms, or ratherbefore his rooms, for the September air was still warm in the hills, Iordered my "bearer" to bring down the apparatus and to prepare it foruse. I myself passed through the glass door in accordance with my newacquaintance's invitation, curious to see the kind of abode in which aman who struck me as being so unlike his fellows spent his summermonths. For some minutes after I entered I did not speak, and indeed Ihardly breathed. It seemed to me that I was suddenly transported intothe subterranean chambers whither the wicked magician sent Aladdin inquest of the lamp. A soft but strong light filled the room, though I didnot immediately comprehend whence it came, nor did I think to look, soamazed was I by the extraordinary splendour of the objects that met myeyes. In the first glance it appeared as if the walls and the ceilingwere lined with gold and precious stones; and in reality it was almostliterally the truth. The apartment, I soon saw, was small, --for India atleast, --and every available space, nook and cranny, were filled withgold and jeweled ornaments, shining weapons, or uncouth but resplendentidols. There were sabres in scabbards set from end to end with diamondsand sapphires, with cross hilts of rubies in massive gold mounting, thespoil of some worsted rajah or Nawab of the mutiny. There were narghylesfour feet high, crusted with gems and curiously wrought work fromBaghdad or Herat; water flasks of gold and drinking cups of jade;yataghans from Bourn and idols from the far East. Gorgeous lamps of theoctagonal Oriental shape hung from the ceiling, and, fed by aromaticoils, shed their soothing light on all around. The floor was coveredwith a rich soft pile, and low divans were heaped with cushions ofdeep-tinted silk and gold. On the floor, in a corner which seemed thefavourite resting-place of my host, lay open two or three superblyilluminated Arabic manuscripts, and from a chafing dish of silver nearby a thin thread of snow-white smoke sent up its faint perfume throughthe still air. To find myself transported from the conventionalities ofa stiff and starched Anglo-Indian hotel to such a scene was somethingnovel and delicious in the extreme. No wonder I stood speechless andamazed. Mr. Isaacs remained near the door while I breathed in thestrange sights to which he had introduced me. At last I turned, and fromcontemplating the magnificence of inanimate wealth I was riveted by themajestic face and expression of the beautiful living creature who, by aturn of his wand, or, to speak prosaically, by an invitation to smoke, had lifted me out of humdrum into a land peopled with all the effulgentphantasies and the priceless realities of the magic East. As I gazed, itseemed as if the illumination from the lamps above were caught up andflung back with the vitality of living fire by his dark eyes, in whichmore than ever I saw and realised the inexplicable blending of theprecious stones with the burning spark of a divine soul breathingwithin. For some moments we stood thus; he evidently amused at myastonishment, and I fascinated and excited by the problem presented mefor solution in his person and possessions. 

"Yes, " said Isaacs, "you are naturally surprised at my little Eldorado, so snugly hidden away in the lower story of a commonplace hotel. Perhapsyou are surprised at finding me here, too. But come out into the air, your hookah is blazing, and so are the stars. "

I followed him into the verandah, where the long cane chairs of thecountry were placed, and taking the tube of the pipe from the solemnMussulman whose duty it was to prepare it, I stretched myself out inthat indolent lazy peace which is only to be enjoyed in tropicalcountries. Silent and for the nonce perfectly happy, I slowly inhaledthe fragrant vapour of tobacco and aromatic herbs and honey with whichthe hookah is filled. No sound save the monotonous bubbling andchuckling of the smoke through the water, or the gentle rustle of theleaves on the huge rhododendron-tree which reared its dusky branches tothe night in the middle of the lawn. There was no moon, though the starswere bright and clear, the foaming path of the milky way stretchingoverhead like the wake of some great heavenly ship; a soft mellow lustrefrom the lamps in Isaacs' room threw a golden stain half across theverandah, and the chafing dish within, as the light breeze fanned thecoals, sent out a little cloud of perfume which mingled pleasantly withthe odour of the _chillum_ in the pipe. The turbaned servant squatted onthe edge of the steps at a little distance, peering into the dusk, asIndians will do for hours together. Isaacs lay quite still in his chair, his hands above his head, the light through the open door just fallingon the jeweled mouthpiece of his narghyle. He sighed--a sigh only halfregretful, half contented, and seemed about to speak, but the spirit didnot move him, and the profound silence continued. For my part, I was somuch absorbed in my reflections on the things I had seen that I hadnothing to say, and the strange personality of the man made me wish tolet him begin upon his own subject, if perchance I might gain someinsight into his mind and mode of thought. There are times when silenceseems to be sacred, even unaccountably so. A feeling is in us that tospeak would be almost a sacrilege, though we are unable to account inany way for the pause. At such moments every one seems instinctively tofeel the same influence, and the first person who breaks the spelleither experiences a sensation of awkwardness, and says something veryfoolish, or, conscious of the odds against him, delivers himself of asentiment of ponderous severity and sententiousness. As I smoked, watching the great flaming bowl of the water pipe, a little coal, forcedup by the expansion of the heat, toppled over the edge and fell tinklingon the metal foot below. The quick ear of the servant on the stepscaught the sound, and he rose and came forward to trim the fire. Thoughhe did not speak, his act was a diversion. The spell was broken. 

"The Germans, " said Isaacs, "say that an angel is passing over thehouse. I do not believe it. "

I was surprised at the remark. It did not seem quite natural for Mr. Isaacs to begin talking about the Germans, and from the tone of hisvoice I could almost have fancied he thought the proverb was held as anarticle of faith by the Teutonic races in general. 

"I do not believe it, " he repeated reflectively. "There is no such thingas an angel 'passing'; it is a misuse of terms. If there are such thingsas angels, their changes of place cannot be described as motion, seeingthat from the very nature of things such changes must be instantaneous, not involving time as a necessary element. Have you ever thought muchabout angels? By-the-bye, pardon my abruptness, but as there is no oneto introduce us, what is your name?"

"My name is Griggs--Paul Griggs. I am an American, but was born inItaly. I know your name is Isaacs; but, frankly, I do not comprehend howyou came by the appellation, for I do not believe you are either, English, American, or Jewish of origin. "

"Quite right, " he replied, "I am neither Yankee, Jew, nor beef-eater; infact, I am not a European at all. And since you probably would not guessmy nationality, I will tell you that I am a Persian, a pure Iranian, adegenerate descendant of Zoroaster, as you call him, though by religionI follow the prophet, whose name be blessed, " he added, with anexpression of face I did not then understand. "I call myself Isaacs forconvenience in business. There is no concealment about it, as many knowmy story; but it has an attractive Semitic twang that suite myoccupation, and is simpler and shorter for Englishmen to write thanAbdul Hafizben-Isâk, which is my lawful name. "

"Since you lay sufficient store by your business to have been willing tochange your name, may I inquire what your business is? It seems to be alucrative one, to judge by the accumulations of wealth you have allowedme a glimpse of. "

"Yes. Wealth is my occupation. I am a dealer in precious stones andsimilar objects of value. Some day I will show you my diamonds; they areworth seeing. "

It is no uncommon thing to meet in India men of all Asiaticnationalities buying and selling stones of worth, and enrichingthemselves in the business. I supposed he had come with a caravan by wayof Baghdad, and had settled. But again, his perfect command of English, as pure as though he had been educated at Eton and Oxford, his extremelycareful, though quiet, English dress, and especially his polishedmanners, argued a longer residence in the European civilisation of hisadopted home than agreed with his young looks, supposing him to havecome to India at sixteen or seventeen. A pardonable curiosity led me toremark this. 

"You must have come here very young, " I said. "A thoroughbred Persiandoes not learn to speak English like a university man, and to quoteGerman proverbs, in a residence of a few years; unless, indeed, hepossess the secret by which the initiated absorb knowledge withouteffort, and assimilate it without the laborious process of intellectualdigestion. "

"I am older than I look--considerably. I have been in India twelveyears, and with a natural talent for languages, stimulated by constantintercourse with Englishmen who know their own speech well, I havesucceeded, as you say, in acquiring a certain fluency and mastery ofaccent. I have had an adventurous life enough. I see no reason why Ishould not tell you something of it, especially as you are not English, and can therefore hear me with an unprejudiced ear. But, really, do youcare for a yarn?"

I begged him to proceed, and I beckoned the servant to arrange ourpipes, that we might not be disturbed. When this was done, Isaacs began. 

"I am going to try and make a long story short. We Persians like tolisten to long stories, as we like to sit and look on at a weddingnautch. But we are radically averse to dancing or telling long talesourselves, so I shall condense as much as possible. I was born inPersia, of Persian parents, as I told you, but I will not burden yourmemory with names you are not familiar with. My father was a merchant inprosperous circumstances, and a man of no mean learning in Arabic andPersian literature. I soon showed a strong taste for books, and everyopportunity was given me for pursuing my inclinations in this respect. At the early age of twelve I was kidnapped by a party of slave-dealers, and carried off into Roum--Turkey you call it. I will not dwell upon mytears and indignation. We travelled rapidly, and my captors treated mewell, as they invariably do their prizes, well knowing how much of thevalue of a slave depends on his plump and sleek condition when broughtto market. In Istamboul I was soon disposed of, my fair skin andaccomplishments as a writer and a singer of Persian songs fetching ahigh price. 

"It is no uncommon thing for boys to be stolen and sold in this way. Arich pacha will pay almost anything. The fate of such slaves is notgenerally a happy one. " Isaacs paused a moment, and drew in two or threelong breaths of smoke. "Do you see that bright star in the south?" hesaid, pointing with his long jewel-set mouthpiece. 

"Yes. It must be Sirius. "

"That is my star. Do you believe in the agency of the stars in humanaffairs? Of course you do not; you are a European: how should you? Butto proceed. The stars, or the fates or Kâli, or whatever you like toterm your kismet, your portion of good and evil, allotted me a somewhathappier existence than generally falls to the share of young slaves inRoum. I was bought by an old man of great wealth and of still greaterlearning, who was so taken with my proficiency in Arabic and in writingthat he resolved to make of me a pupil instead of a servant to carry hiscoffee and pipe, or a slave to bear the heavier burden of his vices. Nothing better could have happened to me. I was installed in his houseand treated with exemplary kindness, though he kept me rigorously atwork with my books. I need not tell you that with such a master I madefair progress, and that at the age of twenty-one I was, for a Turk, ayoung man of remarkably good education. Then my master died suddenly, and I was thrown into great distress. I was of course nothing but aslave, and liable to be sold at any time. I escaped. Active andenduring, though never possessing any vast muscular strength, I borewith ease the hardships of a long journey on foot with little food andscant lodging. Falling in with a band of pilgrims, I recognised thewisdom of joining them on their march to Mecca. I was, of course, asound Mohammedan, as I am to this day, and my knowledge of the Koransoon gained me some reputation in the caravan. I was considered acreditable addition, and altogether an eligible pilgrim. My exceptionalphysique protected me from the disease and exhaustion of which not a fewof our number died by the wayside, and the other pilgrims, inconsideration of my youth and piety, gave me willingly the few handfulsof rice and dates that I needed to support life and strength. 

"You have read about Mecca; and your _hadji_ barber, who of course hasbeen there, has doubtless related his experiences to you scores of timesin the plains, as he does everywhere. As you may imagine, I had nointention of returning towards Roum with my companions. When I hadfulfilled all the observances required, I made my way to Yeddah andshipped on board an Arabian craft, touching at Mocha, and bearing coffeeto Bombay. I had to work my passage, and as I had no experience of thesea, save in the caïques of the Golden Horn, you will readily conceivethat the captain of the vessel had plenty of fault to find. But myagility and quick comprehension stood me in good stead, and in a fewdays I had learned enough to haul on a rope or to reef the great latteensails as well as any of them. The knowledge that I was just returningfrom a pilgrimage to Mecca obtained for me also a certain respect amongthe crew. It makes very little difference what the trade, business, orbranch of learning; in mechanical labour, or intellectual effort, theeducated man is always superior to the common labourer. One who is inthe habit of applying his powers in the right way will carry his systeminto any occupation, and it will help him as much to handle a rope as towrite a poem. 

"At last we landed in Bombay. I was in a wretched condition. What littleclothes I had had were in tatters; hard work and little food had made meeven thinner than my youthful age and slight frame tolerated. I had inall about three pence money in small copper coins, carefully hoardedagainst a rainy day. I could not speak a word of the Indian dialects, still less of English, and I knew no one save the crew of the vessel Ihad come in, as poor as I, but saved from starvation by the slenderpittance allowed them on land. I wandered about all day through thebazaars, occasionally speaking to some solemn looking old shopkeeper orlong-bearded Mussulman, who, I hoped, might understand a little Arabic. But not one did I find. At evening I bathed in the tank of a temple fullfrom the recent rains, and I lay down supperless to sleep on the stepsof the great mosque. As I lay on the hard stones I looked up to my star, and took comfort, and slept. That night a dream came to me. I thought Iwas still awake and lying on the steps, watching the wondrous ruler ofmy fate. And as I looked he glided down from his starry throne with aneasy swinging motion, like a soap-bubble settling to the earth. And thestar came and poised among the branches of the palm-tree over the tank, opalescent, unearthly, heart shaking. His face was as the face of theprophet, whose name be blessed, and his limbs were as the limbs of theHameshaspenthas of old. Garments he had none, being of heavenly birth, but he was clothed with light as with a garment, and the crest of hissilver hair was to him a crown of glory. And he spoke with the tonguesof a thousand lutes, sweet strong tones, that rose and fell on the nightair as the song of a lover beneath the lattice of his mistress, the songof the mighty star wooing the beautiful sleeping earth. And then helooked on me and said: 'Abdul Hafiz, be of good cheer. I am with theeand will not forsake thee, even to the day when thou shalt pass over theburning bridge of death. Thou shalt touch the diamond of the rivers andthe pearl of the sea, and they shall abide with thee, and great shall bethy wealth. And the sunlight which is in the diamond shall warm thee andcomfort thy heart; and the moonlight which is in the pearl shall givethee peace in the night-time, and thy children shall be to thee agarland of roses in the land of the unbeliever. ' And the star floateddown from the palm-branches and touched me with his hand, and breathedupon my lips the cool breath of the outer firmament, and departed. ThenI awoke and saw him again in his place far down the horizon, and he wasalone, for the dawn was in the sky and the lesser lights wereextinguished. And I rose from the stony stairway that seemed like a bedof flowers for the hopeful dream, and I turned westward, and praisedAllah, and went my way. 

"The sun being up, all was life, and the life in me spoke of a mostcapacious appetite. So I cast about for a shop where I might buy alittle food with my few coppers, and seeing a confectioner spreading outhis wares, I went near and took stock of the queer balls of flour andsugar, and strange oily-looking sweetmeats. Having selected what Ithought would be within my modest means, I addressed the shopkeeper tocall his attention, though I knew he would not understand me, and Itouched with my hand the article I wanted, showing with the other someof the small coins I had. As soon as I touched the sweetmeats the manbecame very angry, and bounding from his seat called his neighbourstogether, and they all shouted and screamed at me, and called a man Ithought to be a soldier, though he looked more like an ape in his longloose trousers of dirty black, and his untidy red turban, under whichcumbrous garments his thin and stunted frame seemed even blacker andmore contemptible than nature had made them. I afterwards discovered himto be one of the Bombay police. He seized me by the arm, and I, knowingI had done no wrong, and curious to discover, if possible, what thetrouble was, accompanied him whither he led me. After waiting many hoursin a kind of little shed where there were more policemen, I was broughtbefore an Englishman. Of course all attempts at explanation wereuseless. I could speak not a word of anything but Arabic and Persian, and no one present understood either. At last, when I was in despair, trying to muster a few words of Greek I had learned in Istamboul, andfailing signally therein, an old man with a long beard looked curiouslyin at the door of the crowded court. Some instinct told me to appeal tohim, and I addressed him in Arabic. To my infinite relief he replied inthat tongue, and volunteered to be interpreter. In a few moments Ilearned that my crime was that I had _touched_ the sweetmeats on thecounter. 

"In India, as you who have lived here doubtless know, it is a criminaloffence, punishable by fine or imprisonment, for a non-Hindu person todefile the food of even the lowest caste man. To touch one sweetmeat ina trayful defiles the whole baking, rendering it all unfit for the useof any Hindu, no matter how mean. Knowing nothing of caste and itsprejudices, it was with the greatest difficulty that the _moolah_, whowas trying to help me out of my trouble, could make me comprehendwherein my wrong-doing lay, and that the English courts, being obligedin their own interest to uphold and protect the caste practices of theHindus, at the risk of another mutiny, could not make any exception infavour of a stranger unacquainted with Indian customs. So the Englishmanwho presided said he would have to inflict a fine, but being a veryyoung man, not yet hardened to the despotic ways of Eastern life, hegenerously paid the fine himself, and gave me a rupee as a present intothe bargain. It was only two shillings, but as I had not had so muchmoney for months I was as grateful as though it had been a hundred. If Iever meet him I will requite him, for I owe him all I now possess. 

"My case being dismissed, I left the court with the old _moolah_, whotook me to his house and inquired of my story, having first given me agood meal of rice and sweetmeats, and that greatest of luxuries, alittle pot of fragrant Mocha coffee; he sat in silence while I ate, ministering to my wants, and evidently pleased with the good he wasdoing. Then he brought out a package of _birris_, those littlecigarettes rolled in leaves that they smoke in Bombay, and I told himwhat had happened to me. I implored him to put me in the way ofobtaining some work by which I could at least support life, and hepromised to do so, begging me to stay with him until I should beindependent. The day following I was engaged to pull a punkah in thehouse of an English lawyer connected with an immense lawsuit involvingone of the Mohammedan principalities. For this irksome work I was toreceive six rupees--twelve shillings--monthly, but before the month wasup I was transferred, by the kindness of the English lawyer and the goodoffices of my co-religionist the _moolah_, to the retinue of the Nizamof Haiderabad, then in Bombay. Since that time I have never known want. 

"I soon mastered enough of the dialects to suit my needs, and appliedmyself to the study of English, for which opportunities were notlacking. At the end of two years I could speak the language enough to beunderstood, and my accent from the first was a matter of surprise toall; I had also saved out of my gratuities about one hundred rupees. Having been conversant with the qualities of many kinds of preciousstones from my youth up, I determined to invest my economies in adiamond or a pearl. Before long I struck a bargain with an old_marwarri_ over a small stone, of which I thought he misjudged thevalue, owing to the rough cutting. The fellow was cunning and hard inhis dealings, but my superior knowledge of diamonds gave me theadvantage. I paid him ninety-three rupees for the little gem, and soldit again in a month for two hundred to a young English 'collector andmagistrate, ' who wanted to make his wife a present. I bought a largerstone, and again made nearly a hundred per cent on the money. Then Ibought two, and so on, until having accumulated sufficient capital, Ibade farewell to the Court of the Nizam, where my salary never exceededsixteen rupees a month as scribe and Arabic interpreter, and I went myway with about two thousand rupees in cash and precious stones. I camenorthwards, and finally settled in Delhi, where I set up as a dealer ingems and objects of intrinsic value. It is now twelve years since Ilanded in Bombay. I have never soiled my hands with usury, though I havetwice advanced large sums at legal interest for purposes I am not atliberty to disclose; I have never cheated a customer or underrated a gemI bought of a poor man, and my wealth, as you may judge from what youhave seen, is considerable. Moreover, though in constant intercoursewith Hindus and English, I have not forfeited my title to be called atrue believer and a follower of the prophet, whose name be blessed. "

Isaacs ceased speaking, and presently the waning moon rose patheticallyover the crest of the mountains with that curiously doleful look shewears after the full is past, as if weeping over the loss of her betterhalf. The wind rose and soughed drearily through the rhododendrons andthe pines; and Kiramat Ali, the pipe-bearer, shivered audibly as he drewhis long cloth uniform around him. We rose and entered my friend'srooms, where the warmth of the lights, the soft rugs and downy cushions, invited us temptingly to sit down and continue our conversation. But itwas late, for Isaacs, like a true Oriental, had not hurried himself overhis narrative, and it had been nine o'clock when we sat down to smoke. So I bade him good-night, and, musing on all I had heard and seen, retired to my own apartments, glancing at Sirius and at theunhappy-looking moon before I turned in from the verandah. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER II. 

In India--in the plains--people rise before dawn, and it is not tillafter some weeks' residence in the cooler atmosphere of the mountainsthat they return to the pernicious habit of allowing the sun to bebefore them. The hours of early morning, when one either mopes about inloose flannel clothes, or goes for a gallop on the green _maidán_, arewithout exception the most delicious of the day. I shall have occasionhereafter to describe the morning's proceedings in the plains. On theday after the events recorded in the last chapter I awoke as usual atfive o'clock, and meandered out on to the verandah to have a look at thehills, so novel and delicious a sight after the endless flats of thenorthwest provinces. It was still nearly dark, but there was a faintlight in the east, which rapidly grew as I watched it, till, turning theangle of the house, I distinguished a snow-peak over the tops of thedark rhododendrons, and, while I gazed, the first tinge of distantdawning caught the summit, and the beautiful hill blushed, as a fairwoman, at the kiss of the awakening sun. The old story, the heavenwooing the earth with a wondrous shower of gold. 

"Prati 'shya sunarî janî"--the exquisite lines of the old Vedic hymn tothe dawn maiden, rose to my lips. I had never appreciated or felt theirtruth down in the dusty plains, but here, on the free hills, the gladwelcoming of the morning light seemed to run through every fibre, asthousands of years ago the same joyful thrill of returning life inspiredthe pilgrim fathers of the Aryan race. Almost unconsciously, I softlyintoned the hymn, as I had heard my old Brahmin teacher in Allahabadwhen he came and sat under the porch at daybreak, until I was ready forhim--

 The lissome heavenly maiden here, Forth flashing from her sister's arms, High heaven's daughter, now is come. 

 In rosy garments, shining like A swift bay mare; the twin knights' friend, Mother of all our herds of kine. 

 Yea, thou art she, the horseman's friend; Of grazing cattle mother thou, All wealth is thine, thou blushing dawn. 

 Thou who hast driven the foeman back, With praise we call on thee to wake In tender reverence, beauteous one. 

 The spreading beams of morning light Are countless as our hosts of kine, They fill the atmosphere of space. 

 Filling the sky, thou openedst wide The gates of night, thou glorious dawn-- Rejoicing-run thy daily race!

 The heaven above thy rays have filled, The broad belovèd room of air, O splendid, brightest maid of morn!

I went indoors again to attend to my correspondence, and presently agorgeously liveried white-bearded _chuprassie_ appeared at the door, andbending low as he touched his hand to his forehead, intimated that "ifthe great lord of the earth, the protector of the poor, would turn hisear to the humblest of his servants, he would hear of something to hisadvantage. "

So saying, he presented a letter from the official with whom I had todo, an answer to my note of the previous afternoon, requesting aninterview. In due course, therefore, the day wore on, and I transactedmy business, returned to "tiffin, " and then went up to my rooms for alittle quiet. I might have been there an hour, smoking and dreaming overa book, when the servant announced a sahib who wanted to see me, andIsaacs walked in, redolent of the sunshine without, his luminous eyesshining brightly in the darkened room. I was delighted, for I felt mywits stagnating in the unwonted idleness of the autumn afternoon, andthe book I had taken up was not conducive to wakefulness or brilliancy. It was a pleasant surprise too. It is not often that an hotelacquaintance pushes an intimacy much, and besides I had feared mysilence during the previous evening might have produced the impressionof indifference, on which reflection I had resolved to make myselfagreeable at our next meeting. 

Truly, had I asked myself the cause of a certain attraction I felt forMr. Isaacs, it would have been hard to find an answer. I am generallyextremely shy of persons who begin an acquaintance by makingconfidences, and, in spite of Isaacs' charm of manner, I had certainlyspeculated on his reasons for suddenly telling an entire stranger hiswhole story. My southern birth had not modified the northern characterborn in me, though it gave me the more urbane veneer of the Italian; andthe early study of Larochefoucauld and his school had not predisposed meto an unlimited belief in the disinterestedness of mankind. Still therewas something about the man which seemed to sweep away unbelief andcynicism and petty distrust, as the bright mountain freshet sweeps awaythe wretched little mud puddles and the dust and impurities from the bedof a half dry stream. It was a new sensation and a novel era in myexperience of humanity, and the desire to get behind that nobleforehead, and see its inmost workings, was strong beyond the strength ofpuny doubts and preconceived prejudice. Therefore, when Isaacs appeared, looking like the sun-god for all his quiet dress of gray and hisunobtrusive manner, I felt the "little thrill of pleasure" so aptlycompared by Swinburne to the soft touch of a hand stroking the outerhair. 

"What a glorious day after all that detestable rain!" were his firstwords. "Three mortal months of water, mud, and Mackintoshes, not tomention the agreeable sensation of being glued to a wet saddle with yourfeet in water-buckets, and mountain torrents running up and down theinside of your sleeves, in defiance of the laws of gravitation; such islife in the monsoon. Pah!" And he threw himself down on a cane chair andstretched out his dainty feet, so that the sunlight through the crack ofthe half-closed door might fall comfortingly on his toes, and remind himthat it was fine outside. 

"What have you been doing all day?" I asked, for lack of a betterquestion, not having yet recovered from the mental stagnation induced bythe last number of the serial story I had been reading. 

"Oh--I don't know. Are you married?" he asked irrelevantly. 

"God forbid!" I answered reverently, and with some show of feeling. 

"Amen, " was the answer. "As for me--I am, and my wives have beenquarreling. "

"Your wives! Did I understand you to use the plural number?"

"Why, yes. I have three; that is the worst of it. If there were onlytwo, they might get on better. You know 'two are company and three arenone, ' as your proverb has it. " He said this reflectively, as ifmeditating a reduction in the number. 

The application of the proverb to such a case was quite new in myrecollection. As for the plurality of my friend's conjugal relations, Iremembered he was a Mohammedan, and my surprise vanished. Isaacs waslost in meditation. Suddenly he rose to his feet, and took a cigarettefrom the table. 

"I wonder"--the match would not light, and he struggled a moment withanother. Then he blew a great cloud of smoke, and sat down in adifferent chair--"I wonder whether a fourth would act as a fly-wheel, "and he looked straight at me, as if asking my opinion. 

I had never been in direct relations with a Mussulman of education andposition. To be asked point-blank whether I thought four wives betterthan three on general principles, and quite independently of thecontemplated spouse, was a little embarrassing. He seemed perfectlycapable of marrying another before dinner for the sake of peace, and Ido not believe he would have considered it by any means a bad move. 

"Diamond cut diamond, " I said. "You too have proverbs, and one of themis that a man is better sitting than standing; better lying thansitting; better dead than lying down. Now I should apply that sameproverb to marriage. A man is, by a similar successive reasoning, betterwith no wife at all than with three. "

His subtle mind caught the flaw instantly. "To be without a wife at allwould be about as conducive to happiness as to be dead. Negativehappiness, very negative. "

"Negative happiness is better than positive discomfort. "

"Come, come, " he answered, "we are bandying terms and words, as if emptybreath amounted to anything but inanity. Do you really doubt the valueof the institution of marriage?"

"No. Marriage is a very good thing when two people are so poor that theydepend on each other, mutually, for daily bread, or if they are richenough to live apart. For a man in my own position marriage would be theheight of folly; an act of rashness only second to deliberate suicide. Now, you are rich, and if you had but one wife, she living in Delhi andyou in Simla, you would doubtless be very happy. "

"There is something in that, " said Isaacs. "She might mope and beat theservants, but she could not quarrel if she were alone. Besides, it is somuch easier to look after one camel than three. I think I must try it. "

There was a pause, during which he seemed settling the destiny of thetwo who were to be shelved in favour of a monogamic experiment. Presently he asked if I had brought any horses, and hearing I had not, offered me a mount, and proposed we should ride round Jako, and perhaps, if there were time, take a look at Annandale in the valley, where therewas polo, and a racing-ground. I gladly accepted, and Isaacs despatchedone of my servants, the faithful Kiramat Ali, to order the horses. Meantime the conversation turned on the expedition to Kabul to avengethe death of Cavagnari. I found Isaacs held the same view that I did inregard to the whole business. He thought the sending of four Englishmen, with a handful of native soldiers of the guide regiment to protect them, a piece of unparalleled folly, on a par with the whole English policy inregard to Afghanistan. 

"You English--pardon me, I forgot you did not belong to them--theEnglish, then, have performed most of their great acts of valour as adirect consequence of having wantonly exposed themselves in situationswhere no sane man would have placed himself. Look at Balaclava; think ofthe things they did in the mutiny, and in the first Afghan war; look atthe mutiny itself, the result of a hair-brained idea that a country likeIndia could be held for ever with no better defences than thetrustworthiness of native officers, and the gratitude of the people forthe 'kindly British rule. ' Poor Cavagnari! when he was here last summer, before leaving on his mission, he said several times he should nevercame back. And yet no better man could have been chosen, whether forpolitics or fighting; if only they had had the sense to protect him. "

Having delivered himself of this eulogy, my friend dropped his exhaustedcigarette, lit another, and appeared again absorbed in the triangulationof his matrimonial problem. I imagined him weighing the question whetherhe should part with Zobeida and Zuleika and keep Anima, or send Zuleikaand Amina about their business, and keep Zobeida to be a light in hishousehold. At last Kiramat Ali, on the watch in the verandah, announcedthe saices with the horses, and we descended. 

I had expected that a man of Isaacs' tastes and habits would not bestingy about his horseflesh, and so was prepared for the character ofthe animals that awaited us. They were two superb Arab stallions, one ofthem being a rare specimen of the weight-carrying kind, occasionallyseen in the far East. Small head, small feet, and feather-tailed, butbroad in the quarters and deep in the chest, able to carry atwelve-stone man for hours at the stretching, even gallop, that nevertrembles and never tires; surefooted as a mule, and tender-tempered as ababy. 

So we mounted the gentle creatures and rode away. The mountain on whichSimla is situated has a double summit, like a Swiss peak, the one higherthan the other. On the lower height and the neck between the two isbuilt the town, and the bungalows used as offices and residences for theGovernment officials cover a very considerable, area. "Jako, " the highereminence, is thickly covered with a forest of primeval rhododendrons andpines, and though there are outlying bungalows and villas scatteredabout among the trees near the town, they are so far back from the mainroad, reserved as I have said for the use of the Viceroy, as far asdriving is concerned, that they are not seen in riding along the shadyway; and on the opposite side, where the trees are thin, the magnificentview looks far out over the spurs of the mountains, the only humanhabitation visible being a Catholic convent, which rears its littleItalian _campanile_ against the blue sky, and rather adds to the beautyof the scene than otherwise. As we rode along we continued our talkabout the new Afghan war, though neither of us was very much in thehumour for animated conversation. The sweet scent of the pines, thematchless motion of the Arab, and the joyous feeling that the worst partof the tropical year was passed, were enough for me, and I drank in thehigh, rarefied air, with the intense delight of a man who has beensmothered with dust and heat, and then steamed to a jelly by a springand summer in the plains of Hindustan. 

The road abounds in sharp turns, and I, as the heavier mount, rode onthe inside as we went round the mountain. On reaching the open part onthe farther side, we drew rein for a moment to look down at the deepvalleys, now dark with the early shade, at the higher peaks red with thewestering sun, and at the black masses of foliage, through which somegiant trunk here and there caught a lingering ray of the departinglight. Then, as we felt the cool of the evening coming on, we wheeledand scampered along the level stretch, stirrup to stirrup and knee toknee. The sharp corner at the end pulled us up, but before we had quitereined in our horses, as delighted as we to have a couple of minutes'straight run, we swung past the angle and cannoned into a man amblingpeaceably along with his reins on one finger and his large gray felt hatflapping at the back of his neck. There was a moment's confusion, profuse apologies on our part, and some ill-concealed annoyance on thepart of the victim, who was, however, only a little jostled and taken bysurprise. 

"Really, sir, " he began. "Oh! Mr. Isaacs. No harm done, I assure you, that is, not much. Bad thing riding fast round corners. No harm, noharm, not much. How are you?" all in a breath. 

"How d'ye do! Mr. Ghyrkins; my friend Mr. Griggs. "

"The real offender, " I added in a conciliatory tone, for I had kept myplace on the inside. 

"Mr. Griggs?" said Mr. Currie Ghyrkins. "Mr. Griggs of Allahabad? _DailyHowler?_ Yes, yes, corresponded; glad to see you in the flesh. "

I did not think he looked particularly glad. He was a RevenueCommissioner residing in Mudnugger; a rank Conservative; a regular old"John Company" man, with whom I had had more than one tiff in thecolumns of the _Howler, _ leading to considerable correspondence. 

"I trust that our collision in the flesh has had no worse results thanour tilts in print, Mr. Ghyrkins?"

"Not at all. Oh don't mention it. Bad enough, though, but no harm done, none whatever, " pulling up and looking at me as he pronounced the histtwo words with a peculiarly English slowness after a very quicksentence. 

While he was speaking, I was aware of a pair of riders walking theirhorses toward us, and apparently struggling to suppress their amusementat the mishap to the old gentleman, which they must have witnessed. Intruth, Mr. Ghyrkins, who was stout and rode a broad-backed obese "tat, "can have presented no very dignified appearance, for he was jerked halfout of the saddle by the concussion, and his near leg, returning to itsplace, had driven his nether garment half way to his knee, while thelarge felt hat was settling back on to his head at a rakish angle, andhis coat collar had gone well up the back of his neck. 

"Dear uncle, " said the lady as she rode up, "I hope you are not hurt?"She was very handsome as she sat there trying not to laugh. A lithefigure in a gray habit and a broad-brimmed hat, fair as a Swede, butwith dark eyes and heavy lashes. Just then she was showing her brilliantteeth, ostensibly in delight at her dear uncle's escape, and her wholeexpression was animated and amused. Her companion was a soldierlylooking young Englishman, with a heavy moustache and a large nose. Acertain devil-may-care look about his face was attractive as he satcarelessly watching us. I noticed his long stirrups and the curb reinhanging loose, while he held the snaffle, and concluded he was a cavalryofficer. Isaacs bowed low to the lady and wheeled his horse. She repliedby a nod, indifferent enough; but as he turned, her eyes instantly wentback to him, and a pleasant thoughtful look passed over her face, whichbetrayed at least a trifling interest in the stranger, if stranger hewere. 

All this time Mr. Ghyrkins was talking and asking questions of me. Whenhad I come? what brought me here? how long would I stay? and so on, showing that whether friendly or not he had an interest in my movements. In answering his questions I found an opportunity of calling the Queenthe "Empress, " of lauding Lord Beaconsfield's policy in India, and ofcongratulating Mr. Ghyrkins upon the state of his district, with whichhe had nothing to do, of course; but he swallowed the bait, all in abreath, as he seemed to do everything. Then he introduced us. 

"Katharine, you know Mr. Isaacs; Mr. Griggs, Miss Westonhaugh, LordSteepleton Kildare, Mr. Isaacs. "

We bowed and rode back together over the straight piece we passed beforethe encounter. Isaacs and the Englishman walked their horses on eachside of Miss Westonhaugh, and Ghyrkins and I brought up the rear. Itried to turn the conversation to Isaacs, but with little result. 

"Yes, yes, good fellow Isaacs, for a fire-worshipper, or whatever he is. Good judge of a horse. Lots of rupees too. Queer fish. By-the-bye, Mr. Griggs, this new expedition is going to cost us something handsome, eh?"

"Why, yes. I doubt whether you will get off under ten millions sterling. And where is it to come from? You will have a nice time making yourassessments in Bengal, Mr. Ghyrkins, and we shall have an income-tax andall sorts of agreeable things. "

"Income-tax? Well, I think not. You see, Mr. Griggs, it would hit themembers of the council, so they won't do it, for their own sakes, andthe Viceroy too. Ha, ha, how do you think Lord Lytton would like anincome-tax, eh?" And the old fellow chuckled. 

We reached the end of the straight, and Isaacs reined in and bid MissWestonhaugh and her companion good evening. I bowed from where I was, and took Mr. Ghyrkins' outstretched hand. He was in a good humour again, and called out to us to come and see him, as we rode away. I thought tomyself I certainly would; and we paced back, crossing the open stretchfor the third time. 

It was almost dark under the trees as we re-entered the woods; I pulledout a cheroot and lit it. Isaacs did the same, and we walked our horsesalong in silence. I was thinking of the little picture I had just seen. The splendid English girl on her thoroughbred beside the beautiful Arabsteed and his graceful rider. What a couple, I thought: what noblespecimens of great races. Why did not this fiery young Persian, with hiswealth, his beauty, and his talents, wed some such wife as that, somehigh-bred Englishwoman, who should love him and give him home andchildren--and, I was forced to add, commonplace happiness? How oftendoes it happen that some train of thought, unacknowledged almost toourselves, runs abruptly into a blind alley; especially when we try toplan out the future life of some one else, or to sketch for him what weshould call happiness. The accidental confronting of two individualspleases the eye, we unite them in our imagination, carrying on thepicture before us, and suddenly we find ourselves in a quagmire ofabsurd incongruities. Now what could be more laughable than to supposethe untamed, and probably untameable young man at my side, with histhree wives, his notions about the stars and his Mussulman faith, boundfor life to a girl like Miss Westonhaugh? A wise man of the East tryingto live the life of an English country gentleman, hunting in pink andmaking speeches on the local hustings! I smiled to myself in the darkand puffed at my cigar. 

Meanwhile Isaacs was palpably uneasy. First he kicked his feet free ofthe stirrups, and put them back again. Then he hummed a few words of aPersian song and let his cigar go out, after which he swore loudly inArabic at the eternal matches that never would light. Finally he put hishorse into a hand gallop, which could not last on such a road in thedark, and at last he broke down completely in his efforts to doimpossible things, and began talking to me. 

"You know Mr. Ghyrkins by correspondence, then?"

"Yes, and by controversy. And you, I see, know Miss Westonhaugh?"

"Yes; what do you think of her?"

"A charming creature of her type. Fair and English, she will be fat atthirty-five, and will probably paint at forty, but at present she isperfection--of her kind of course, " I added, not wishing to engage myfriend in the defence of his three wives on the score of beauty. 

"I see very little of Englishwomen, " said Isaacs. "My position ispeculiar, and though the men, many of whom I know quite intimately, often ask me to their houses, I fancy when I meet their women I candetect a certain scorn of my nationality, a certain undefinable mannertoward me, by which I suppose they mean to convey to my obtusecomprehension that I am but a step better than a 'native'--a 'nigger' infact, to use the term they love so well. So I simply avoid them, as arule, for my temper is hasty. Of course I understand it well enough;they are brought up or trained by their fathers and husbands to regardthe native Indian as an inferior being, an opinion in which, on thewhole, I heartily concur. But they go a step farther and include allAsiatics in the same category. I do not choose to be confounded with arace I consider worn out and effete. As for the men, it is different. They know I am rich and influential in many ways that are useful to themnow, and they hope that the fortunes of war or revolution may give thema chance of robbing me hereafter, in which they are mistaken. Now thereis our stout friend, whom we nearly brought to grief a few minutes ago;he is always extremely civil, and never meets me that he does not renewhis invitation to visit him. "

"I should like to see something more of Mr. Currie Ghyrkins myself. I donot believe he is half as bad as I thought. Do you ever go there?"

"Sometimes. Yes, on second thoughts I believe I call on Mr. CurrieGhyrkins pretty often. " Then after a pause he added, "I like her. "

I pointed out the confusion of genders. Isaacs must have smiled tohimself in the gloom, but he answered quietly--

"I mean Miss Westonhaugh. I like her--yes, I am quite sure I do. She isbeautiful and sensible, though if she stays here much longer she will belike all the rest. We will go and see them to-morrow. Here we are; justin time for dinner. Come and smoke afterwards. "

 * * * * *

CHAPTER III. 

A loose robe of light material from Kashmir thrown around him, Isaacshalf sat, half lay, on the soft dark cushions in the corner of his outerroom. His feet were slipperless, Eastern fashion, and his head coveredwith an embroidered cap of curious make. By the yellow light of thehanging lamps he was reading an Arabic book, and his face wore a puzzledlook that sat strangely on the bold features. As I entered the book fellback on the cushion, sinking deep into the down by its weight, and oneof the heavy gold clasps clanged sharply as it turned. He looked up, butdid not rise, and greeted me, smiling, with the Arabic salutation--

"Peace be with you!"

"And with you, peace, " I answered in the same tongue. He smiled again atmy unfamiliar pronunciation. I established myself on the divan near him, and inquired whether he had arrived at any satisfactory solution of hisdomestic difficulties. 

"My father, " he said, "upon whom be peace, had but one wife, my mother. You know Mussulmans are allowed four lawful wives. Here is the passagein the beginning of the fourth chapter, 'If ye fear that ye shall notact with equity towards orphans of the female sex, take in marriage ofsuch other women as please you, two, or three, or four, and not more. But, if ye fear that ye cannot act equitably towards so many, marry oneonly, or the slaves which ye shall have acquired. '

"The first part of this passage, " continued Isaacs, "is disputed; I meanthe words referring to orphans. But the latter portion is plain enough. When the apostle warns those who fear they 'cannot act equitably towardsso many, ' I am sure that in his wisdom he meant something more by'equitable' treatment than the mere supplying of bodily wants. He meantus to so order our households that there should be no jealousies, noheart-burnings, no unnecessary troubling of the peace. Now woman is athing of the devil, jealous; and to manage a number of such creatures sothat they shall be even passably harmonious among themselves is afearful task, soul-wearying, heart-hardening, never-ending, leading tono result. "

"Just what I told you; a man is better with no wife at all than withthree. But why do you talk about such matters with me, an unbeliever, aChristian, who, in the words of your prophet, 'shall swallow downnothing but fire into my belly, and shall broil in raging flames' when Idie? Surely it is contrary to the custom of your co-religionists; andhow can you expect an infidel Frank to give you advice?"

"I don't, " laconically replied my host. 

"Besides, with your views of women in general, their vocation, theiraims, and their future state, is it at all likely that we should everarrive at even a fair discussion of marriage and marriage laws? With us, women have souls, and, what is a great deal more, seem likely to havevotes. They certainly have the respectful and courteous service of alarge proportion of the male sex. You call a woman a thing of the devil;we call her an angel from heaven; and though some eccentric persons likemyself refuse to ally themselves for life with any woman, I confess, asfar as I am concerned, that it is because I cannot contemplate theconstant society of an angel with the degree of appreciation such aprivilege justly deserves; and I suspect that most confirmed bachelors, knowingly or unconsciously, think as I do. The Buddhists are notsingular in their theory that permanent happiness should be the object. "

"They say, " said Isaacs, quickly interrupting, "that the aim of theignorant is pleasure; the pursuit of the wise, happiness. Pray, underwhich category would you class marriage? I suppose it comes under one orthe other. "

"I cannot say I see the force of that. Look at your own case, since youhave introduced it. "

"Never mind my own case. I mean with your ideas of one wife, andheavenly woman, and voting, and domestic joy, and all the rest of it. Take the ideal creature you rave about--"

"I never rave about anything. "

"Take the fascinating female you describe, and for the sake of argumentimagine yourself very poor or very rich, since you would not enterwedlock in your present circumstances. Suppose you married your objectof 'courteous service and respectful adoration;' which should you sayyou would attain thereby, pleasure or happiness?"

"Pleasure is but the refreshment that cheers us in the pursuit of truehappiness, " I answered, hoping to evade the direct question by asententious phrase. 

"I will not let you off so easily. You shall answer my question, " hesaid. He looked full at me with a deep searching gaze that seemed hardlywarranted by the lightness of the argument. I hesitated, and heimpatiently leaned forward, uncrossing his legs and clasping his handsover one knee to bring himself nearer to me. 

"Pleasure or happiness?" he repeated, "which is it to be?"

A sudden light flashed over my obscured intellect. 

"Both, " I answered. "Could you see the ideal woman as I would fain painther to you, you would understand me better. The pleasure you enjoy inthe society of a noble and beautiful woman should be but the refreshmentby the wayside as you journey through life together. The day will comewhen she will be beautiful no longer, only noble and good, and true toyou as to herself; and then, if pleasure has been to you what it shouldbe, you will find that in the happiness attained it is no longercounted, or needed, or thought of. It will have served its end, as thecrib holds the ship in her place while she is building; and when yourwhite-winged vessel has smoothly glided off into the great ocean ofhappiness, the crib and the stocks and the artificial supports will fallto pieces and be forgotten for ever. Yet have they had a purpose, andhave borne a very important part in the life of your ship. "

Having heard me attentively till I had finished, Isaacs relaxed his holdon his knee and threw himself back on the cushions, as if to entrenchhimself for a better fight. I had made an impression on him, but he wasnot the man to own it easily. Presumably to gain time, he called forhookahs and sherbet, and though the servants moved noiselessly inpreparing them, their presence was an interruption. 

When we were settled again he had taken a nearly upright position on thecouch, and as he pulled at the long tube his face assumed that stolidlook of Oriental indifference which is the most discouraging shower-bathto the persuasive powers. I had really no interest in converting him tomy own point of view about women. Honestly, was it my own point of viewat all? Would anything under heaven induce me, Paul Griggs, rich, orpoor, or comfortably off, to marry any one--Miss Westonhaugh, forinstance? Probably not. But then my preference for single blessednessdid not prevent me from believing that women have souls. That morningthe question of the marriage of the whole universe had been a matter ofthe utmost indifference, and now I, a confirmed and hopelessly contentedbachelor, was trying to convince a man with three wives that matrimonywas a most excellent thing in its way, and that the pleasure of thehoneymoon was but the faint introduction to the bliss of the silverwedding. It certainly must be Isaacs' own doing. He had launched on avoyage of discovery and had taken me in tow. I had a strong suspicionthat he wanted to be convinced, and was playing indifference to soothehis conscience. 

"Well, " said I at last, "have you any fault to find with my reasoning ormy simile?"

"With your simile--none. It is faultlessly perfect. You have not mixedup your metaphors in the least. Crib, stocks, ocean, ship--all correct, and very nautical. As for your reasoning, I do not believe there isanything in it. I do not believe that pleasure leads to happiness; I donot believe that a woman has a soul, and I deny the whole argument frombeginning to end. There, " he added with a smile that belied thebrusqueness of his words, "that is my position. Talk me out of it if youcan; the night is long, and my patience as that of the ass. "

"I do not think this is a case for rigid application of logic. When thefeelings are concerned--and where can they be more concerned than in ourintercourse with women?--the only way to arrive at any conclusion is bya sort of trying-on process, imagining ourselves in the positionindicated, and striving to fancy how it would suit us. Let us begin inthat way. Suppose yourself unmarried, your three wives and theirchildren removed--"

"Allah in his mercy grant it!" ejaculated Isaacs with great fervour. 

"--removed from the question altogether. Then imagine yourself throwninto daily conversation with some beautiful woman who has read what youhave read, thought what you have thought, and dreamed the dreams of anobler destiny that have visited you in waking and sleeping hours. Awoman who, as she learned your strange story, should weep for the painsyou suffered and rejoice for the difficulties overcome, who shouldunderstand your half spoken thoughts and proudly sympathise in yourunuttered aspirations; in whom you might see the twin nature to yourown, and detect the strong spirit and the brave soul, half revealedthrough the feminine gentleness and modesty that clothe her as with agarment. Imagine all this, and then suppose it lay in your power, was aquestion of choice, for you to take her hand in yours and go throughlife and death together, till death seem life for the joy of beingunited for ever. Suppose you married her--not to lock her up in anindolent atmosphere of rosewater, narghyles, and sweetmeats, to die ofinanition or to pester you to death with complaints and jealousies andinopportune caresses; but to be with you and help your life when youmost need help, by word and thought and deed, to grow more and more apart of you, an essential element of you in action or repose, to partfrom which would be to destroy at a blow the whole fabric of yourexistence. Would you not say that with such a woman the transitorypleasure of early conversation and intercourse had been thestepping-stone to the lasting happiness of such a friendship as youcould never hope for in your old age among your sex? Would not herfaithful love and abounding sympathy be dearer to you every day, thoughthe roses in her cheek should fade and the bright hair whiten with thedust of life's journey? Would you not feel that when you died yourdearest wish must be to join her where there should be no parting--herfrom whom there could be no parting here, short of death itself? Wouldyou not believe she had a soul?"

"There is no end of your 'supposing, ' but it is quite pretty. I am halfinclined to 'suppose' too. " He took a sip of sherbet from the tallcrystal goblet the servant had placed on a little three-legged stoolbeside him, and as he drank the cool liquid slowly, looked over theglass into my eyes, with a curious, half earnest, half smiling glance; Icould not tell whether my enthusiastic picture of conjugal bliss amusedhim or attracted him, so I waited for him to speak again. 

"Now that you have had your cruise in your ship of happiness on thewaters of your cerulean imagination, permit me, who am land-born and alover of the chase, to put my steed at a few fences in the difficultcountry of unadorned facts over which I propose to hunt the wily fox, matrimony. I have never hunted a fox, but I can quite well imagine whatit is like. 

"In the first place, it is all very well to suppose that it had pleasedAllah in his goodness to relieve me of my three incumbrances--meanwhile, there they are, and they are very real difficulties I assure you. Nevertheless are there means provided us by the foresight of theapostle, by which we may ease ourselves of domestic burdens when theyare too heavy for us to bear. It would be quite within the bounds ofpossibility for me to divorce them all three, without making any specialscandal. But if I did this thing, do you not think that my experience ofmarried life has given me the most ineradicable prejudices against womenas daily companions? Am I not persuaded that they all bicker and chatterand nibble sweetmeats alike--absolutely alike? Or if I looked abroad--"

"Stop, " I said, "I am not reasoner enough to persuade you that all womenhave souls. Very likely in Persia and India they have not. I only wantyou to believe that there may be women so fortunate as to possess amodicum of immortality. Well, pardon my interruption, 'if you lookedabroad, ' as you were saying?--"

"If I looked abroad, I should probably discover little petty traits ofthe same class, if not exactly identical. I know little of Englishmen, and might be the more readily deceived. Supposing, if you will, that, after freeing myself from all my present ties, in order to start afresh, I were to find myself attracted by some English girl here"--there musthave been something wrong with the mouthpiece of his pipe, for heexamined it very attentively-- "attracted, " he continued, "by some one, for instance, by Miss Westonhaugh--" he stopped short. 

So my inspiration was right. My little picture, framed as we rodehomeward, and indignantly scoffed at by my calmer reason, had visitedhis brain too. He had looked on the fair northern woman and fanciedhimself at her side, her lover, her husband. All this conversation andargument had been only a set plan to give himself the pleasure ofcontemplating and discussing such a union, without exciting surprise orcomment. I had been suspecting it for some time, and now his suddeninterest in his mouthpiece, to conceal a very real embarrassment, putthe matter beyond all doubt. 

He was probably in love, my acquaintance of two days. He saw in me aplain person, who could not possibly be a rival, having some knowledgeof the world, and he was in need of a confidant, like a school-girl. Ireflected that he was probably a victim for the first time. There isvery little romance in India, and he had, of course, married forconvenience and respectability rather than for any real affection. Hisfirst passion! This man who had been tossed about like a bit ofdriftwood, who had by his own determination and intelligence carved hisway to wealth and power in the teeth of every difficulty. Just now, inhis embarrassment, he looked very boyish. His troubles had left nowrinkles on his smooth forehead, his bright black hair was untinged by asingle thread of gray, and as he looked up, after the pause thatfollowed when he mentioned the name of the woman he loved, there was avery really youthful look of mingled passion and distress in hisbeautiful eyes. 

"I think, Mr. Isaacs, that you have used a stronger argument against theopinions you profess to hold than I could have found in my whole armouryof logic. "

As he looked at me, the whole field of possibilities seemed opened. Imust have been mistaken in thinking this marriage impossible andincongruous. What incongruity could there be in Isaacs marrying MissWestonhaugh? My conclusions were false. Why must he necessarily returnwith her to England, and wear a red coat, and make himself ridiculous atthe borough elections? Why should not this ideal couple choose somehappy spot, as far from the corrosive influence of Anglo-Saxon prejudiceas from the wretched sensualism of prosperous life east of theMediterranean? I was carried away by the idea, returning with redoubledstrength as a sequel to what I had argued and to what I had guessed. "Why not?" was the question I repeated to myself over and over again inthe half minute's pause after Isaacs finished speaking. 

"You are right, " he said slowly, his half-closed eyes fixed on his feet. "Yes, you are right. Why not? Indeed, indeed, why not?"

It must have been pure guess-work, this reading of my thoughts. When hewas last speaking his manner was all indifference, scorn of my ideas, and defiance of every western mode of reasoning. And now, apparently bypure intuition, he gave a direct answer to the direct question I hadmentally asked, and, what is more, his answer came with a quiet, far-away tone of conviction that had not a shade of unbelief in it. Itwas delivered as monotonously and naturally as a Christian says "Credoin unum Deum, " as if it were not worth disputing; or as the devoutMussulman says "La Illah illallah, " not stooping to consider theexistence of any one bold enough to deny the dogma. No argument, nothours of patient reasoning, or weeks of well directed persuasion, couldhave wrought the change in the man's tone that came over it at the meremention of the woman he loved. I had no share in his conversion. Myarguments had been the excuse by which he had converted himself. Was heconverted? was it real?

"Yes--I think I am, " he replied in the same mechanical monotonousaccent. 

I shook myself, drank some sherbet, and kicked off one shoe impatiently. Was I dreaming? or had I been speaking aloud, really putting thequestions he answered so quickly and appositively? Pshaw! a coincidence. I called the servant and ordered my hookah to be refilled. Isaacs satstill, immovable, lost in thought, looking at his toes; an expression, almost stupid in its vacancy, was on his face, and the smoke curledslowly up in lazy wreaths from his neglected narghyle. 

"You are converted then at last?" I said aloud. No answer followed myquestion; I watched him attentively. 

"Mr. Isaacs!" still silence, was it possible that he had fallen asleep?his eyes were open, but I thought he was very pale. His uprightposition, however, belied any symptoms of unconsciousness. 

"Isaacs! Abdul Hafiz! what is the matter!" He did not move. I rose to myfeet and knelt beside him where he sat rigid, immovable, like a statue. Kiramat Ali, who had been watching, clapped his hands wildly and cried, "Wah! wah! Sahib margyâ!"--"The lord is dead. " I motioned him away witha gesture and he held his peace, cowering in the corner, his eyes fixedon us. Then I bent low as I knelt and looked under my friend's brows, into his eyes. It was clear he did not see me, though he was lookingstraight at his feet. I felt for his pulse. It was very low, almostimperceptible, and certainly below forty beats to the minute. I took hisright arm and tried to put it on my shoulder. It was perfectly rigid. There was no doubt about it--the man was in a cataleptic trance. I feltfor the pulse again; it was lost. 

I was no stranger to this curious phenomenon, where the mind isperfectly awake, but every bodily faculty is lulled to sleep beyondpossible excitation, unless the right means be employed. I went out andbreathed the cool night air, bidding the servants be quiet, as the sahibwas asleep. When sufficiently refreshed I re-entered the room, cast offmy slippers, and stood a moment by my friend, who was as rigid as ever. 

Nature, in her bountiful wisdom, has compensated me for a singularabsence of beauty by endowing me with great strength, and with one ofthose exceptional constitutions which seem constantly charged withelectricity. Without being what is called a mesmerist, I am possessed ofconsiderable magnetic power, which I have endeavoured to develop as faras possible. In many a long conversation with old Manu Lal, my Brahmininstructor in languages and philosophy while in the plains, we haddiscussed the trance state in all its bearings. This old pundit washimself a distinguished mesmerist, and though generally unwilling totalk about what is termed occultism, on finding in me a man naturallyendowed with the physical characteristics necessary to those pursuits, he had given me several valuable hints as to the application of mypowers. Here was a worthy opportunity. 

I rubbed my feet on the soft carpet, and summoning all my strength, began to make the prescribed passes over my friend's head and body. Verygradually the look of life returned to his face, the generous bloodwelled up under the clear olive skin, the lips parted, and he sighedsoftly. Animation, as always happens in such cases, began at the precisepoint at which it had been suspended, and his first movement was tocontinue his examination of the mouthpiece in his hand. Then he lookedup suddenly, and seeing me standing over him, gave a little shake, halfturning his shoulders forward and back, and speaking once more in hisnatural voice, said--

"I must have been asleep! Have I? What has happened? Why are youstanding there looking at me in that way?" Then, after a shortinterrogatory silence, his face changed and a look of annoyance shadedhis features as he added in a low tone, "Oh! I see. It has happened tome once before. Sit down. I am all right now. " He sipped a littlesherbet and leaned back in his old position. I begged him to go to bed, and prepared to withdraw, but he would not let me, and he seemed soanxious that I should stay, that I resumed my place. The whole incidenthad passed in ten minutes. 

"Stay with me a little longer, " he repeated. "I need your company, perhaps your advice. I have had a vision, and you must hear about it. "

"I thought as I sat here that my spirit left my body and passed outthrough the night air and hovered over Simla. I could see into everybungalow, and was conscious of what passed in each, but there was onlyone where my gaze rested, for I saw upon a couch in a spacious chamberthe sleeping form of one I knew. The masses of fair hair were heaped asthey fell upon the pillow, as if she had lain down weary of bearing theburden of such wealth of gold. The long dark lashes threw little shadowson her cheeks, and the parted lips seemed to smile at the sweetness ofthe gently heaving breath that fanned them as it came and went. Andwhile I looked, the breath of her body became condensed, as it were, andtook shape and form and colour, so that the image of herself floated upbetween her body and my watching spirit. Nearer and nearer to me camethe exquisite vision of beauty, till we were face to face, my soul andhers, high up in the night. And there came from her eyes, as the longlids lifted, a look of perfect trust, and of love, and of infinite joy. Then she turned her face southward and pointed to my life star burningbright among his lesser fellows; and with a long sweet glance that bidme follow where she led, her maiden soul floated away, half lingering atfirst, as I watched her; then, with dizzy speed, vanishing in thefirmament as a falling star, and leaving no trace behind, save aninfinitely sad regret, and a longing to enter with her into thatboundless empire of peace. But I could not, for my spirit was calledback to this body. And I bless Allah that he has given me to see heronce so, and to know that she has a soul, even as I have, for I havelooked upon her spirit and I know it. "

Isaacs rose slowly to his feet and moved towards the open door. Ifollowed him, and for a few moments we stood looking out at the scenebelow us. It was near midnight, and the ever-decreasing moon wasdragging herself up, as if ashamed of her waning beauty and tearfullook. 

"Griggs, " said my friend, dropping the formal prefix for the first time, "all this is very strange. I believe I am in love!"

"I have not a doubt of it, " I replied. "Peace be with you!"

"And with you peace. "

So we parted. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER IV. 

In Simla people make morning calls in the morning instead of after dark, as in more civilised countries. Soon after dawn I received a note fromIsaacs, saying that he had business with the Maharajah of Baithopoorabout some precious stones, but that he would be ready to go with me tocall on Mr. Currie Ghyrkins at ten o'clock, or soon after. I had beenthinking a great deal about the events of the previous evening, and Iwas looking forward to my next meeting with Isaacs with intenseinterest. After what had passed, nothing could be such a test of histrue feelings as the visit to Miss Westonhaugh, which we proposed tomake together, and I promised myself to lose no gesture, no word, noexpression, which might throw light on the question that interestedme--whether such a union were practical, possible, and wise. 

At the appointed time, therefore, I was ready, and we mounted andsallied forth into the bright autumn day. All visits are made onhorseback in Simla, as the distances are often considerable. You ridequietly along, and the saice follows you, walking or keeping pace withyour gentle trot, as the case may be. We rode along the bustling mall, crowded with men and women on horseback, with numbers of gorgeouslyarrayed native servants and _chuprassies_ of the Government officeshurrying on their respective errands, or dawdling for a chat with someshabby-looking acquaintance in private life; we passed by the crowdedlittle shops on the hill below the church, and glanced at theconglomeration of grain-sellers, jewellers, confectioners, and dealersin metal or earthen vessels, every man sitting knee-deep in his wares, smoking the eternal "hubble-bubble;" we noted the keen eyes of thebuyers and the hawk's glance of the sellers, the long snake-like fingerseagerly grasping the passing coin, and seemingly convulsed intoserpentine contortion when they relinquished their clutch on a single"pi;" we marked this busy scene, set down, like a Punch and Judy show, in the midst of the trackless waste of the Himalayas, as if for thedelectation and pastime of some merry _genius loci_ weary of the solemnsilence in his awful mountains, and we chatted carelessly of the sightsanimate and inanimate before us, laughing at the asseverations of thesalesmen, and at the hardened scepticism of the customer, at theportentous dignity of the superb old messenger, white-bearded and cladin scarlet and gold, as he bombastically described to the knot of poorrelations and admirers that elbowed him the splendours of the lastentertainment at "Peterhof, " where Lord Lytton still reigned. I smiled, and Isaacs frowned at the ancient and hairy ascetic believer, whosuddenly rose from his lair in a corner, and bustled through the crowdof Hindoos, shouting at the top of his voice the confession of hisfaith--"Beside God there is no God, and Muhammad is his apostle!" Theuniversality of the Oriental spirit is something amazing. Customs, dress, thought, and language, are wonderfully alike among all Asiaticswest of Thibet and south of Turkistan. The greatest difference is inlanguage, and yet no one unacquainted with the dialects coulddistinguish by the ear between Hindustani, Persian, Arabic, and Turkish. 

So we moved along, and presently found ourselves on the road we hadtraversed the previous evening, leading round Jako. On the slope of thehill, hidden by a dense growth of rhododendrons, lay the bungalow of Mr. Currie Ghyrkins, and a board at the entrance of the ride--drive therewas none--informed us that the estate bore the high-sounding title of"Carisbrooke Castle, " in accordance with the Simla custom of callinglittle things by big names. 

Having reached the lawn near the house, we left our horses in charge ofthe saice and strolled up the short walk to the verandah. A charmingpicture it was, prepared as if on purpose for our especial delectation. The bungalow was a large one for Simla, and the verandah was deep andshady; many chairs of all sorts and conditions stood about in naturalpositions, as if they had just been sat in, instead of being ranged instiff rows against the wall, and across one angle hung a capacioushammock. Therein, swinging her feet to the ground, and holding on by theedge rope, sat the beautiful Miss Westonhaugh, clad in one of thoseclose-fitting unadorned costumes of plain dark-blue serge, which onlysuit one woman in ten thousand, though, when they clothe a reallybeautiful young figure, I know of no garment better calculated todisplay grace of form and motion. She was kicking a ball of worsted withher dainty toes, for the amusement and instruction of a small tamejackal--the only one I ever saw thoroughly domesticated. A charminglittle beast it was, with long gray fur and bright twinkling eyes, mischievous and merry as a gnome's. From a broad blue ribbon round itsneck was suspended a small silver bell that tinkled spasmodically, asthe lively little thing sprang from side to side in pursuit of the ball, alighting with apparent indifference on its head or its heels. 

So busy was the girl with her live plaything that she had not seen usdismount and approach her, and it was not till our feet sounded on theboards of the verandah that she looked up with a little start, and triedto rise to her feet. Now any one who has sat sideways in a nettedhammock, with feet swinging to the ground, and all the weight in themiddle of the thing, knows how difficult it is to get out with grace, orindeed in any way short of rolling out and running for luck. You maybreak all your bones in the feat, and you both look and feel as if youwere going to. Though we both sprang forward to her assistance, MissWestonhaugh had recognised the inexpediency of moving after the firstessay, and, with a smile of greeting, and the faintest tinge ofembarrassment on her fair cheek, abandoned the attempt; the quaintlittle jackal sat up, backing against the side of the house, and, eyeingus critically, growled a little. 

"I'm so glad to see you, Mr. Isaacs. How do you do, Mr. ----"

"Griggs, " murmured Isaacs, as he straightened a rope of the hammock byher side. 

"Mr. Griggs?" she continued. "We met last night, briefly, but to thepoint, or at least you and my uncle did. I am alone; my uncle is gonedown towards Kalka to meet my brother, who is coming up for a fortnightat the end of the season to get rid of the Bombay mould. Bring up someof those chairs and sit down. I cannot tell what has become of the'bearer' and the 'boy, ' and the rest of the servants, and I could notmake them understand me if they were here. So you must wait onyourselves. "

I was the first to lay hands on a chair, and as I turned to bring it Inoticed she was following Isaacs with the same expression I had seen onher face the previous evening; but I could see it better now. A pleasantfriendly look, not tender so much as kind, while the slightest possiblecontraction of the eyes showed a feeling of curiosity. She was evidentlygoing to speak to him as soon as he turned his face. 

"You see I have been giving him lessons, " she said, as he brought backthe seat he had chosen. 

Isaacs looked at the queer small beast sitting up against the boardsunder the window, his brush tail curled round him, and his head turnedinquiringly on one side. 

"He seems to be learning manners, at all events, " said my friend. 

"Yes; I think I may say now, with safety, that his bark is worse thanhis bite. "

"I am sure you could not have said so the last time I came. Do youremember what fearful havoc he made among my nether garments? And yet heis my god-child, so to speak, for I gave him into your care, and namedhim into the bargain. "

"Don't suppose I am ungrateful for the gift, " answered Miss Westonhaugh. "Snap! Snap! here! come here, darling, to your mistress, and be petted!"In spite of this eloquent appeal Snap, the baby jackal, only growledpleasantly and whisked his brush right and left. "You see, " she went on, "your sponsorship has had no very good results. He will not obey anymore than you yourself. " Her glance, turning towards Isaacs, did notreach him, and, in fact, she could not have seen anything beyond theside of his chair. Isaacs, on the contrary, seemed to be counting hereyelashes, and taking a mental photograph of her brows. 

"Snap!" said he. The jackal instantly rose and trotted to him, fawningon his outstretched hand. 

"You malign me, Miss Westonhaugh. Snap is no less obedient than I. "

"Then why did you insist on playing tennis left-handed the other day, though you know very well how it puzzles me?"

"My dear Miss Westonhaugh, " he answered, "I am not a tennis-player atall, to begin with, and as I do not understand the _finesse_ of thegame, to use a word I do not understand either, you must pardon myclumsiness in employing the hand most convenient and ready. "

"Some people, " I began, "are what is called ambidexter, and can useeither hand with equal ease. Now the ancient Persians, who invented thegame of polo----"

"I do not quarrel so much with you, Mr. Isaacs--" as she said this, shelooked at me, though entirely disregarding and interrupting myinstructive sentence--"I don't quarrel with you so much for using yourleft hand at tennis as for employing left-handed weapons when you speakof other things, or beings, for you are never so left-handed and soadroit as when you are indulging in some elaborate abuse of our sex. "

"How can you say that?" protested Isaacs. "You know with what respectfuland almost devotional reverence I look upon all women, and, " his eyesbrightening perceptibly, "upon you in particular. "

English women, especially in their youth, are not used to prettyspeeches. They are so much accustomed to the men of their ownnationality that they regard the least approach to a compliment as theinevitable introduction to the worst kind of insult. Miss Westonhaughwas no exception to this rule, and she drew herself up proudly. 

There was a moment's pause, during which Isaacs seemed penitent, and sheappeared to be revolving the bearings of the affront conveyed in hislast words. She looked along the floor, slowly, till she might have seenhis toes; then her eyes opened a moment and met his, falling againinstantly with a change of colour. 

"And pray, Mr. Isaacs, would you mind giving us a list of the ladies youlook upon with 'respectful and devotional reverence?'" One of the horsesheld by the saice at the corner of the lawn neighed lowly, and gaveIsaacs an opportunity of looking away. 

"Miss Westonhaugh, " he said quietly, "you know I am a Mussulman, andthat I am married. It may be that I have borrowed a phrase from yourlanguage which expresses more than I would convey, though it would illbecome me to withdraw my last words, since they are true. "

It was my turn to be curious now. I wondered where his boldness wouldcarry him. Among his other accomplishments, this man was capable ofspeaking the truth even to a woman, not as a luxury and a _bonnebouche_, but as a matter of habit. As I looked, the hot blood mantled upto his brows. She was watching him, and womanlike, seeing he was inearnest and embarrassed, she regained her perfect natural composure. 

"Oh, I had forgotten!" she said. "I forgot about your wife in Delhi. "She half turned in the hammock, and after some searching, during whichwe were silent, succeeded in finding a truant piece of worsted workbehind her. The wool was pulled out of the needle, and she held thesteel instrument up against the light, as she doubled the worsted roundthe eye and pushed it back through the little slit. I observed thatIsaacs was apparently in a line with the light, and that the threadingtook some time. 

"Mr. Griggs, " she said slowly, and by the very slowness of the address Iknew she was going to talk to me, and at my friend, as women will; "Mr. Griggs, do you know anything about Mohammedans?"

"That is a very broad question, " I answered; "almost as broad as theMussulman creed. " She began making stitches in the work she held, andwith a little side shake settled herself to listen, anticipating adiscourse. The little jackal sidled up and fawned on her feet. I had nointention, however, of delivering a lecture on the faith of the prophet. I saw my friend was embarrassed in the conversation, and I resolved, ifpossible, to interest her. 

"Among primitive people and very young persons, " I continued, "marriageis an article of faith, a moral precept, and a social law. "

"I suppose you are married, Mr. Griggs, " she said, with an air ofchildlike simplicity. 

"Pardon me, Miss Westonhaugh, I neither condescend to call myselfprimitive, nor aspire to call myself young. "

She laughed. I had put a wedge into my end of the conversation. 

"I thought, " said she, "from the way in which you spoke of 'primitiveand young persons' that you considered their opinion in regard to--tothis question, as being the natural and proper opinion of the originaland civilised young man. "

"I repeat that I do not claim to be very civilised, or veryyoung--certainly not to be very original, and my renunciation of allthese qualifications is my excuse for the confirmed bachelorhood towhich I adhere. Many Mohammedans are young and original; some of themare civilised, as you see, and all of them are married. 'There, is noGod but God, Muhammad is his prophet, and if you refuse to marry you arenot respectable, ' is their full creed. "

Isaacs frowned at my profanity, but I continued--"I do not mean to sayanything disrespectful to a creed so noble and social. I think you havesmall chance of converting Mr. Isaacs. "

"I would not attempt it, " she said, laying down her work in her lap, andlooking at me for a moment. "But since you speak of creeds, to whatconfession do you yourself belong, if I may ask?"

"I am a Roman Catholic, " I answered; adding presently--"Really, though, I do not see how my belief in the papal infallibility affects my opinionof Mohammedan marriages. "

"And what _do_ you think of them?" she inquired, resuming her work andapplying herself thereto with great attention. 

"I think that, though justified in principle by the ordinarycircumstances of Eastern life, there are cases in which the system actsvery badly. I think that young men are often led by sheer force ofexample into marrying several wives before they have sufficientlyreflected on the importance of what they are doing. I think that bothmarriage and divorce are too easily managed in consideration of theirimportance to a man's life, and I am convinced that no civilised man ofWestern education, if he were to adopt Islam, would take advantage ofhis change of faith to marry four wives. It is a case of theory _versus_practice, which I will not attempt to explain. It may often be good inlogic, but it seems to me it is very often bad in real life. "

"Yes, " said Isaacs; "there are cases----" He stopped, and MissWestonhaugh, who had been very busy over her work, looked quietly up, only to find that he was profoundly interested in the horses croppingthe short grass, as far as the saice would let them stretch their necks, on the other side of the lawn. 

"I confess, " said Miss Westonhaugh, "that my ideas about Mohammedans arechiefly the result of reading the Arabian Nights, ever so long ago. Itseems to me that they treat women as if they had no souls and no minds, and were incapable of doing anything rational if left to themselves. Itis a man's religion. My uncle says so too, and he ought to know. "

The conversation was meandering in a kind of vicious circle. Both Isaacsand I were far too deeply interested in the question to care for suchidle discussion. How could this beautiful but not very intellectualEnglish girl, with her prejudices and her clumsiness at repartee orargument, ever comprehend or handle delicately so difficult a subject? Iwas disappointed in her. Perhaps this was natural enough, consideringthat with two such men as we she must be entirely out of her element. She was of the type of brilliant, healthy, northern girls, who dependmore on their animal spirits and enjoyment of living for their happinessthan upon any natural or acquired mental powers. With a horse, or atennis court, or even a ball to amuse her, she would appear at her verybest; would be at ease and do the right thing. But when called upon tosustain a conversation, such as that into which her curiosity aboutIsaacs had plunged her, she did not know what to do. She wasconstrained, and even some of her native grace of manner forsook her. Why did she avoid his eyes and resort to such a petty little trick asthreading a needle in order to get a look at him? An American girl, or aFrench woman, would have seen that her strength lay in perfectfrankness; that Isaacs' straightforward nature would make him tell herunhesitatingly anything she wanted to know about himself, and that herposition was strong enough for her to look him in the face and ask himwhat she pleased. But she allowed herself to be embarrassed, and thoughshe had been really glad to see him, and liked him and thought himhandsome, she was beginning to wish he would go, merely because she didnot know what to talk about, and would not give him a chance to choosehis own subject. As neither of us were inclined to carry the analysis ofmatrimony any farther, nor to dispute the opinions of Mr. CurrieGhyrkins as quoted by his niece, there was a pause. I struck in andboldly changed the subject. 

"Are you going to see the polo this afternoon, Miss Westonhaugh? I heardat the hotel that there was to be a match to-day of some interest. "

"Oh yes, of course. I would not miss it for anything. Lord Steepleton iscoming to tiffin, and we shall ride down together to Annandale. Ofcourse you are going too; it will be a splendid thing. Do you play polo, Mr. Griggs? Mr. Isaacs is a great player, when he can be induced to takethe trouble. He knows more about it than he does about tennis. "

"I am very fond of the game, " I answered, "but I have no horses here, and with my weight it is not easy to get a mount for such rough work. "

"Do not disturb yourself on that score, " said Isaacs; "you know mystable is always at your disposal, and I have a couple of ponies thatwould carry you well enough. Let us have a game one of those days, whenever we can get the ground. We will play on opposite sides and matchthe far west against the far east. "

"What fun!" cried Miss Westonhaugh, her face brightening at the idea, "and I will hold the stakes and bestow the crown on the victor. "

"What is to be the prize?" asked Isaacs, with a smile of pleasure. Hewas very literal and boyish sometimes. 

"That depends on which is the winner, " she answered. 

There was a noise among the trees of horses' hoofs on the hard path, andpresently we heard a voice calling loudly for a saice who seemed to belagging far behind. It was a clear strong voice, and the speaker abusedthe groom's female relations to the fourth and fifth generations withconsiderable command of the Hindustani language. Miss Westonhaugh, whohad not been in the country long, did not understand a word of the veryfree swearing that was going on in the woods, but Isaacs looked annoyed, and I registered a black mark against the name of the new-comer, whoeverhe might be. 

"Oh! it is Lord Steepleton, " said the young girl. "He seems to be alwayshaving a row with his servants. Don't go, " she went on as I took up myhat; "he is such a good fellow, you ought to know him. "

Lord Steepleton Kildare now appeared at the corner of the lawn, hotlypursued by his breathless groom, who had been loitering on the way, andhad thus roused his master's indignation. He was, as I have said, a finespecimen of a young Englishman, though being Irish by descent he wouldhave indignantly denied any such nationality. I saw when he haddismounted that he was tall and straight, though not a very heavilybuilt man. He carried his head high, and looked every inch a soldier ashe strode across the grass, carefully avoiding the pegs of the tennisnet. He wore a large gray felt hat, like every one else, and he shookhands all round before he took it off, and settled himself in an easychair as near as he could get to Miss Westonhaugh's hammock. 

"How are ye? Ah--yes, Mr. Isaacs, Mr. Griggs of Allahabad. Jolly day, isn't it?" and he looked vaguely at the grass. "Really, MissWestonhaugh, I got in such a rage with my rascal of a saice that I didnot remember I was so near the house. I am really very sorry I talkedlike that. I hope you did not think I was murdering him?"

Isaacs looked annoyed. 

"Yes, " said he, "we thought Mahmoud was going to have a bad time of it. I believe Miss Westonhaugh does not understand Hindustani. "

A look of genuine distress came into the Englishman's face. 

"Really, " said he, very simply. "You don't know how sorry I am that anyone should have heard me. I am so hasty. But let me apologise to you allmost sincerely for disturbing you with my brutal temper. "

His misdeed had not been, a very serious crime after all, and there wassomething so frank and honest about his awkward little apology that Iwas charmed. The man was a gentleman. Isaacs bowed in silence, and MissWestonhaugh had evidently never thought much about it. 

"We were talking about polo when you came, Lord Steepleton; Mr. Isaacsand Mr. Griggs are going to play a match, and I am to hold the stakes. Do you not want to make one in the game?"

"May I?" said the young man, grateful to her for having helped him out. "May I? I should like it awfully. I so rarely get a chance of playingwith any except the regular set here. " And he looked inquiringly at us. 

"We should be delighted, of course, " said Isaacs. "By the way, can youhelp us to make up the number? And when shall it be?" He seemed suddenlyvery much interested in this projected contest. 

"Oh yes, " said Kildare, "I will manage to fill up the game, and we canplay next Monday. I know the ground is free then. "

"Very good; on Monday. We are at Laurie's on the hill. "

"I am staying with Jack Tygerbeigh, near Peterhof. Come and see us. Iwill let you know before Monday. Oh, Mr. Griggs, I saw such a nice thingabout me in the _Howler_ the other day--so many thanks. No, really, greatly obliged, you know; people say horrid things about me sometimes. Good-bye, good-bye, delighted to have seen you. "

"Good morning, Miss Westonhaugh. "

"Good morning; so good of you to take pity on my solitude. " She smiledkindly at Isaacs and civilly at me. And we went our way. As we lookedback after mounting to lift our hats once more, I saw that MissWestonhaugh had succeeded in getting out of the hammock and was tying ona pith hat, while Lord Steepleton had armed himself with balls andrackets from a box on the verandah. As we bowed they came down thesteps, looking the very incarnation of animal life and spirits in theanticipation of the game they loved best. The bright autumn sun threwtheir figures into bold relief against the dark shadow of the verandah, and I thought to myself they made a very pretty picture. I seemed to bealways seeing pictures, and my imagination was roused in a newdirection. 

We rode away under the trees. My impression of the whole visit wasunsatisfactory. I had thought Mr. Currie Ghyrkins would be there, andthat I would be able to engage him in a political discussion. We couldhave talked income-tax, and cotton duties, and Kabul by the hour, andMiss Westonhaugh and Isaacs would have had a pleasant _tête-à-tête. _Instead of this I had been decidedly the unlucky third who destroys thebalance of so much pleasure in life, for I felt that Isaacs was not aman to be embarrassed if left alone with a woman, or to embarrass her. He was too full of tact, and his sensibilities were so fine that, withhis easy command of language, he must be agreeable _quand même_; andsuch an opportunity would have given him an easy lead away from theathletic Kildare, whom I suspected strongly of being a rival for MissWestonhaugh's favour. There is an easy air of familiar proprietorshipabout an Englishman in love that is not to be mistaken. It is a subtlething, and expresses itself neither in word nor deed in its earlierstages of development; but it is there all the same, and the combinationof this possessive mood, with a certain shyness which often goes withit, is amusing. 

"Griggs, " said Isaacs, "have you ever seen the Rajah of Baithopoor?"

"No; you had some business with him this morning, had you not?"

"Yes--some--business--if you call it so. If you would like to see him Ican take you there, and I think you would be interested in the--thebusiness. It is not often such gems are bought and sold in such a way, and besides, he is very amusing. He is at least two thousand years old, and will go to Saturn when he dies. His fingers are long and crooked, and that which he putteth into his pockets, verily he shall not take itout. "

"A pleasing picture; a good contrast to the one we have left behind us. I like contrasts, and I should like to see him. "

"You shall. " And we lit our cheroots. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER V. 

"We will go there at four, " said Isaacs, coming into my rooms aftertiffin, a meal of which I found he rarely partook. "I said three, thismorning, but it is not a bad plan to keep natives waiting. It makes themimpatient, and then they commit themselves. "

"You are Machiavellian. It is pretty clear which of you is asking thefavour. "

"Yes, it is pretty clear. " He sat down and took up the last number ofthe _Howler_ which lay on the table. Presently he looked up. "Griggs, why do you not come to Delhi? We might start a newspaper there, youknow, in the Conservative interest. "

"In the interest of Mr. Algernon Currie Ghyrkins?" I inquired. 

"Precisely. You anticipate my thoughts with a true sympathy. I supposeyou have no conscience?"

"Political conscience? No, certainly not, out of my own country, whichis the only one where that sort of thing commands a high salary. No, Ihave no conscience. "

"You would really write as willingly for the Conservatives as you do forthe Liberals?"

"Oh yes. I could not write so well on the Conservative side just now, because they are 'in, ' and it is more blessed to abuse than to beabused, and ever so much easier. But as far as any prejudice on thesubject is concerned, I have none. I had as lief defend a party thatrobs India 'for her own good, ' as support those who would rob her with amore cynical frankness and unblushingly transfer the proceeds to theirown pockets. I do not care a rush whether they rob Peter to pay Paul, orfraudulently deprive Paul of his goods for the benefit of Peter. "

"That is the way to look at it. I could tell you some very prettystories about that kind of thing. As for the journalistic enterprise, itis only a possible card to be played if the old gentleman is obdurate. "

"Isaacs, " said I, "I have only known you three days, but you have takenme into your confidence to some extent; probably because I am notEnglish. I may be of use to you, and I am sure I sincerely hope so. Meanwhile I want to ask you a question, if you will allow me to. " Ipaused for an answer. We were standing by the open door, and Isaacsleaned back against the door-post, his eyes fixed on me, half closed, ashe threw his head back. He looked at me somewhat curiously, and Ithought a smile flickered round his mouth, as if he anticipated what thequestion would be. 

"Certainly, " he said slowly. "Ask me anything you like. I have nothingto conceal. "

"Do you seriously think of marrying, or proposing to marry, MissKatharine Westonhaugh?"

"I do seriously think of proposing to marry, and of marrying, MissWestonhaugh. " He looked very determined as he thus categoricallyaffirmed his intention. I knew he meant it, and I knew enough ofOriental character to understand that a man like Abdul Hafizben-Isâk, ofstrong passions, infinite wit, and immense wealth, was not likely tofail in anything he undertook to do. When Asiatic indifference gives wayunder the strong pressure of some master passion, there is no length towhich the hot and impetuous temper beneath may not carry the man. Isaacshad evidently made up his mind. I did not think he could know much aboutthe usual methods of wooing English girls, but as I glanced at hisgraceful figure, his matchless eyes, and noted for the hundredth timethe commanding, high-bred air that was the breath of his character, Ifelt that his rival would have but a poor chance of success. He guessedmy thoughts. 

"What do you think of me?" he asked, smiling. "Will you back me for aplace? I have advantages, you must allow--and worldly advantages too. They are not rich people at all. "

"My dear Isaacs, I will back you to win. But as far as 'worldlyadvantages' are concerned, do not trust to wealth for a moment. Do notflatter yourself that there will be any kind of a bargain, as if youwere marrying a Persian girl. There is nothing venal in that younglady's veins, I am sure. "

"Allah forbid! But there is something very venal in the veins of Mr. Currie Ghyrkins. I propose to carry the outworks one by one. He is heruncle, her guardian, her only relation, save her brother. I do not thinkeither of those men would be sorry to see her married to a man ofstainless name and considerable fortune. "

"You forget your three incumbrances, as you called them last night. "

"No--I do not forget them. It is allowed me by my religion to marry afourth, and I need not tell you that she would be thenceforth my onlywife. "

"But would her guardian and brother ever think of allowing her to takesuch a position?"

"Why not? You know very well that the English in general hardly considerour marriages to be marriages at all--knowing the looseness of the bond. That is the prevailing impression. "

"Yes, I know. But then they would consider your marriage with MissWestonhaugh in the same light, which would not make matters any easier, as far as I can see. "

"Pardon me. I should marry Miss Westonhaugh by the English marriageservice and under English law. I should be as much bound to her, and toher alone, as if I were an Englishman myself. "

"Well, you have evidently thought it out and taken legal advice; andreally, as far as the technical part of it goes, I suppose you have asgood a chance as Lord Steepleton Kildare. "

Isaacs frowned, and his eyes flashed. I saw at once that he consideredthe Irish officer a rival, and a dangerous one. I did not think that ifIsaacs had fair play and the same opportunities Kildare had much chance. Besides there was a difficulty in the way. 

"As far as religion is concerned, Lord Steepleton is not much better offthan you, if he wants to marry Miss Westonhaugh. The Kildares have beenRoman Catholics since the memory of man, and they are very proud of it. Theoretically, it is as hard for a Roman Catholic man to marry aProtestant woman, as for a Mussulman to wed a Christian of anydenomination. Harder, in fact, for your marriage depends upon theconsent of the lady, and his upon the consent of the Church. He has allsorts of difficulties to surmount, while you have only to get yourpersonality accepted--which, when I look at you, I think might be done, "I added, laughing. 

"_Jo hoga, so hoga_--what will be, will be, " he said; "but religion orno religion, I mean to do it. " Then he lighted a cigarette and said, "Come, it is time to go and see his Saturnine majesty, the Maharajah ofBaithopoor. "

I called for my hat and gloves. 

"By-the-bye, Griggs, you may as well put on a black coat. You know theold fellow is a king, after all, and you had better produce a favourableimpression. " I retired to comply with his request, and as I came back heturned quickly and came towards me, holding out both hands, with a veryearnest look in his face. 

"Griggs, I care for that lady more than I can tell you, " he said, takingmy hands in his. 

"My dear fellow, I am sure you do. People do not go suddenly intotrances at a name that is indifferent to them. I am sure you love hervery honestly and dearly. "

"You and she have come into my life almost together, for it was notuntil I talked with you last night that I made up my mind. Will you helpme? I have not a friend in the world. " The simple, boyish look was inhis eyes, and he stood holding my hands and waiting for my answer. I wasso fascinated that I would have then and there gone through fire andwater for him, as I would now. 

"Yes. I will help you. I will be a friend to you. "

"Thank you. I believe you. " He dropped my hands, and we turned and wentout, silent. 

In all my wanderings I had never promised any man my friendship andunconditional support before. There was something about Isaacs thatovercame and utterly swept away preconceived ideas, rules, andprejudices. It was but the third day of our acquaintance, and here was Iswearing eternal friendship like a school-girl; promising to help a man, of whose very existence I knew nothing three days ago, to marry a womanwhom I had seen for the first time yesterday. But I resolved that, having pledged myself, I would do my part with my might, whatever thatpart might be. Meanwhile we rode along, and Isaacs began to talk aboutthe visit we were going to make. 

"I think, " he said, "that you had better know something about thismatter beforehand. The way is long, and we cannot ride fast over thesteep roads, so there is plenty of time. Do not imagine that I have idlyasked you to go with me because I supposed it would amuse you. Dismissalso from your mind the impression that it is a question of buying andselling jewels. It is a very serious matter, and if you would prefer tohave nothing to do with it, do not hesitate to say so. I promised themaharajah this morning that I would bring, this afternoon, a reliableperson of experience, who could give advice, and who might be induced togive his assistance as well as his counsel. I have not known you long, but I know you by reputation, and I decided to bring you, if you wouldcome. From the very nature of the case I can tell you nothing more, unless you consent to go with me. "

"I will go, " I said. 

"In that case I will try and explain the situation in as few words aspossible. The maharajah is in a tight place. You will readily understandthat the present difficulties in Kabul cause him endless anxiety, considering the position of his dominions. The unexpected turn ofevents, following now so rapidly on each other since the Englishwantonly sacrificed Cavagnari and his friends to a vainglorious love ofbravado, has shaken the confidence of the native princes in thestability of English rule. They are frightened out of their senses, having the fear of the tribes before them if the English should beworsted; and they dread, on the other hand, lest the English, findingthemselves in great straits, should levy heavy contributions onthem--the native princes--for the consolidation of what they term the'Empire. ' They have not much sense, these poor old kings and boyprinces, or they would see that the English do not dare to try any ofthose old-fashioned Clive tactics now. But old Baithopoor has heard allabout the King of Oude, and thinks he may share the same fate. "

"I think he may make his mind easy on that score. The kingdom ofBaithopoor is too inconveniently situated and too full of mosquitoes toattract the English. Besides, there are more roses than rubies therejust now. "

"True, and that question interests me closely, for the old man owes me agreat deal of money. It was I who pulled him through the last famine. "

"Not a very profitable investment, I should think. Shall you ever see arupee of that money again?"

"Yes; he will pay me; though I did not think so a week ago, or indeedyesterday. I lent him the means of feeding his people and saving many ofthem from actual death by starvation, because there are so manyMussulmans among them, though the maharajah is a Hindoo. As for him, hemight starve to-morrow, the infidel hound; I would not give him a_chowpatti_ or a mouthful of _dal_ to keep his wretched old body alive. "

"Do I understand that this interview relates to the repayment of themoneys you have advanced?"

"Yes; though that is not the most interesting part of it. He wanted topay me in flesh--human flesh, and he offered to make me a king into thebargain, if I would forgive him the debt. The latter part of theproposal was purely visionary. The promise to pay in so much humanity heis able to perform. I have not made up my mind. "

I looked at Isaacs in utter astonishment. What in the world could hemean? Had the maharajah offered him some more wives--creatures ofpeerless beauty and immense value? No; I knew he would not hesitate nowto refuse such a proposition. 

"Will you please to explain what you mean by his paying you in man?" Iasked. 

"In two words. The Maharajah of Baithopoor has in his possession a man. Safely stowed away under a triple watch and carefully tended, this manawaits his fate as the maharajah may decide. The English Governmentwould pay an enormous sum for this man, but Baithopoor fears that theywould ask awkward questions, and perhaps not believe the answers hewould give them. So, as he owes me a good deal, he thinks I might beinduced to take his prisoner and realise him, so to speak; thuscancelling the debt, and saving him from the alternative of putting theman to death privately, or of going through dangerous negotiations withthe Government. Now this thing is perfectly feasible, and it dependsupon me to say 'yes' or 'no' to the proposition. Do you see now? It is aserious matter enough. "

"But the man--who is he? Why do the English want him so much?"

Isaacs pressed his horse close to mine, and looking round to see thatthe saice was a long way behind, he put his hand on my shoulder, and, leaning out of the saddle till his mouth almost touched my ear, hewhispered quickly--

"Shere Ali. "

"The devil, you say!" I ejaculated, surprised out of grammar and decorumby the startling news. Persons who were in India in 1879 will not haveforgotten the endless speculation caused by the disappearance of theEmir of Afghanistan, Shere Ali, in the spring of that year. Defeated bythe English at Ali Musjid and Peiwar, and believing his cause lost, hefled, no one knew whither; though there is reason to think that he mighthave returned to power and popularity among the Afghan tribes if he hadpresented himself after the murder of Cavagnari. 

"Yes, " continued Isaacs, "he has been a prisoner in the palace ofBaithopoor for six weeks, and not a soul save the maharajah and you andI know it. He came to Baithopoor, humbly disguised as a Yogi from thehills, though he is a Mussulman, and having obtained a private hearing, disclosed his real name, proposing to the sovereign a joint movement onKabul, then just pacified by the British, and promising all manner ofthings for the assistance. Old Baitho, who is no fool, clapped him intoprison under a guard of Punjabi soldiers who could not speak a word ofAfghan, and after due consideration packed up his traps and betookhimself to Simla by short stages, for the journey is not an easy one fora man of his years. He arrived the day before yesterday, and hasostensibly come to congratulate the Viceroy on the success of theBritish arms. He has had to modify the enthusiasm of his proposedaddress, in consequence of the bad news from Kabul. Of course, his firstmove was to send for me, and I had a long interview this morning, inwhich he explained everything. I told him that I would not move in thematter without a third person--necessary as a witness when dealing withsuch people--and I have brought you. "

"But what was his proposal to invest you with a crown? Did he think youwere a likely person for a new Emir of Kabul?"

"Exactly. My faith, and above all, my wealth, suggested to him that I, as a born Persian, might be the very man for the vacant throne. Nodoubt, the English would be delighted to have me there. But the wholething is visionary and ridiculous. I think I shall accept the otherproposition, and take the prisoner. It is a good bargain. "

I was silent. The intimate way in which I had seen Isaacs hitherto hadmade me forget his immense wealth and his power. I had not realised thathe could be so closely connected with intrigues of such importance asthis, or that independant native princes were likely to look upon him asa possible Emir of Afghanistan. I had nothing to say, and I determinedto keep to the part I was brought to perform, which was that of awitness, and nothing more. If my advice were asked, I would speak boldlyfor Shere Ali's liberation and protest against the poor man being boughtand sold in this way. This train of thought reminded me of Isaacs' wordswhen we left Miss Westonhaugh that morning. "It is not often, " he hadsaid, "that you see such jewels bought and sold. " No, indeed!

"You see, " said Isaacs, as we neared our destination, "Baithopoor is inmy power, body and soul, for a word from me would expose him to theBritish Government as 'harbouring traitors, ' as they would express it. On the other hand, the fact that you, the third party, are a journalist, and could at a moment's notice give publicity to the whole thing, willbe an additional safeguard. I have him as in a vice. And now put on yourmost formal manners and look as if you were impenetrable as the rock andunbending as cast iron, for we have reached his bungalow. "

I could not but admire the perfect calm and caution with which he wasconducting an affair involving millions of money, a possible indictmentfor high treason, and the key-note of the Afghan question, while I knewthat his whole soul was absorbed in the contemplation of a beautifulpicture ever before him, sleeping or waking. Whatever I might think ofhis bargaining for the possession of Shere Ali, he had a great, evenuntiring, intellect. He had the elements of a leader of men, and Ifondly hoped he might be a ruler some day. 

The bungalow in which the Maharajah of Baithopoor had taken up hisresidence during his visit was very much like all the rest of the housesI saw in Simla. The verandah, however, was crowded with servants andsowars in gorgeous but rather tawdry liveries, not all of them as cleanas they should have been. Horses with elaborate high saddles andembroidered trappings rather the worse for wear were being led up anddown the walk. As we neared the door there was a strong smell ofrosewater and native perfumes and hookah tobacco--the indescribableodour of Eastern high life. There was also a general air of wasteful andtawdry dowdiness, if I may coin such a word, which one constantly seesin the retinues of native princes and rich native merchants, illcontrasting with the great intrinsic value of some of the ornaments wornby the chief officers of the train. 

Isaacs spoke a few words in a low voice to the jemadar at the door, andwe were admitted into a small room in the side of the house, opening, asall rooms do in India, on to the verandah. There were low woodencharpoys around the walls, and we sat down, waiting till the maharajahshould be advised of our arrival. Very soon a jemadar came in andinformed us that "if the _sahib log_, who were the protectors of thepoor, would deign to be led by him, " we should be shown into the royalpresence. So we rose and followed the obsequious official into anotherapartment. 

The room where the maharajah awaited us was even smaller than the oneinto which we had been first shown. It was on the back of the house, andonly half lighted by the few rays of afternoon sun that struggledthrough the dense foliage outside. I suppose this apartment had beenchosen as the scene of the interview on account of its seclusion. Outside the window, which was closed, a sowar paced slowly up and downto keep away any curious listeners. A heavy curtain hung before the doorthrough which we had entered. I thought that on the whole the placeseemed pretty safe. 

The old maharajah sat cross-legged upon a great pile of dark-redcushions, his slippers by his side, and a huge hookah before him. Hewore a plain white pugree with a large jewel set on one side, and hisbody was swathed and wrapped in dark thick stuffs, as if he felt keenlythe cold autumn air. His face was long, of an ashy yellowish colour, andan immense white moustache hung curling down over his sombre robe. Onehand protruded from the folds and held the richly-jewelled mouthpiece ofthe pipe to his lips, and I noticed that the fingers were long andcrooked, winding themselves curiously round the gold stem, as ifrevelling in the touch of the precious metal and the gems. As we camewithin his range of vision, his dark eyes shot a quick glance ofscrutiny at me and then dropped again. Not a movement of the head orbody betrayed a consciousness of our presence. Isaacs made a longsalutation in Hindustani, and I followed his example, but he did nottake off his shoes or make anything more than an ordinary bow. It wasquite evident that he was master of the situation. The old man took thepipe from his mouth and replied in a deep hollow voice that he was gladto see us, and that, in consideration of our wealth, fame, and renownedwisdom, he would waive all ceremony and beg us to be seated. We sat downcross-legged on cushions before him, and as near as we could get, sothat it seemed as if we three were performing some sacred rite of whichthe object was the tall hookah that stood in the centre of our triangle. 

Being seated, Isaacs addressed the prince, still in Hindustani, and saidthat the splendour of his sublime majesty, which was like the sundispelling the clouds, so overcame him with fear and trembling, that hehumbly implored permission to make use of the Persian tongue, which, hewas aware, the lord of boundless wisdom spoke with even greater easethan himself. 

Without waiting for an answer, and with no perceptible manifestation ofany such "fear and trembling" as he professed, Isaacs at once began tospeak in his native tongue, and dropping all forms of ceremony orcircumlocution plunged boldly into business. He did not hesitate toexplain to the maharajah the strength of his position, dwelling on thefact that, by a word to the English of the whereabouts of Shere Ali, hecould plunge Baithopoor into hopeless and endless entanglements, towhich there could be but one issue--absorption into the British Râj. Hedwelt on the large sums the maharajah owed him for assistance lentduring the late famine, and he skilfully produced the impression that hewanted the money down, then and there. 

"If your majesty should refuse to satisfy my just claims, I have ampleweapons by which to satisfy them for myself, and no considerations ofmercy or pity for your majesty will tempt me to abate one rupee in theaccount of your indebtedness, which, as you well know, is not swelled byany usurious interest. You could not have borrowed the money on sucheasy terms from any bank in India or England, and if I have beenmerciful hitherto, I will be so no longer. What saith the Apostle ofAllah? 'Verily, life for life, and eye for eye, and nose for nose, andear for ear, and tooth for tooth, and for wounding retaliation. ' And thetime of your promise is expired and you shall pay me. And is not thewise Frank, who sitteth at my right hand, the ready writer, who givethto the public every day a new book to read, the paper of news, _Khabar-i-Khagaz_ wherein are written the misdeeds of the wicked, andthe dealings of the fraudulent and the unwary receive their just reward?And think you he will not make a great writing, several columns inlength, and deliver it to the devils that perform his bidding, and shallthey not multiply what he hath written, and sow it broadcast over theBritish Râj for the minor consideration of one anna a copy, that allshall see how the Maharajah of Baithopoor doth scandalously repudiatehis debts, and harbour traitors to the Râj in his palace?"

Isaacs said all this in a solemn and impressive manner, calculated toinspire awe and terror in the soul of the unhappy debtor. As for themaharajah, the cold sweat stood on his face, and at the last words hisanxiety was so great that the long fingers uncurled spasmodically andthe jewelled mouthpiece fell back, as the head of a snake, among thesilken coils of the tube at his feet. Instantly, on feeling the graspinghand empty, his majesty, with more alacrity than I would have expected, darted forward with outstretched claws, as a hawk on his prey, andseizing the glittering thing returned it to his lips with a look ofevident relief. It was habit, of course, for we were not exactly the mento plunder him of his toy, but there was a fierceness about the wholeaction that spoke of the real miser. Then there was silence for amoment. The old man was evidently greatly impressed by the perils of hissituation. Isaacs continued. 

"Your majesty well perceives that you have surrounded yourself withdangers on all sides. No danger threatens me. I could buy you andBaithopoor to-morrow if I chose. But I am a just man. When the prophet, whose name be blessed, saith that we shall have eye for eye, and nosefor nose, and for wounding retaliation, he saith also that 'he thatremitteth the same as alms it shall be an atonement unto him. ' Now yourmajesty is a hard man, and I well know that if I force you to pay me nowyou will cruelly tax and oppress your subjects to refill your coffers. And many of your subjects are true believers, following the prophet, upon whom be peace; and it is also written 'Thou shalt rob a stranger, but thou shalt not rob a brother, '--and if I cause you to rob mybrethren is not the sin mine, and the atonement thereof? Now also hasthe lawful interest on your bond mounted up to several lakhs of rupees. But for the sake of my brethren who are in bondage to you, who are anunbeliever and shall broil everlastingly in raging flames, I will yetmake a covenant with you, and the agreement thereof shall be this:

"You shall deliver into my hand, before the dark half of the next moon, the man"--Isaacs lowered his voice to a whisper, barely audible in thestill room, where the only sound heard as he paused was the tread of thesowar on the verandah outside-- "the man Shere Ali, formerly Emir ofAfghanistan, now hidden in your palace of Baithopoor. Him you shall giveto me safe and untouched at the place which I shall choose, northwardsfrom here, in the pass towards Keitung. And there shall not be an hairof his head touched, and if it is good in my eyes I will give him up tothe British; and if it is good in my eyes, I will slay him, and youshall ask no questions. And if you refuse to do this I will go to thegreat lord sahib and tell him of your doings, and you will be arrestedbefore this night and shall not escape. But if you consent and put yourhand to this agreement, I will speak no word, and you shall depart inpeace; and moreover, for the sake of the true believers in your kingdomI will remit to you the whole of the interest on your debt; and the bondyou shall pay at your convenience. I have spoken, do you answer me. "Isaacs calmly took from his pocket two rolls covered with Persianwriting, and lighting a cigarette, proceeded to peruse them carefully, to detect any flaw or error in their composition. The face of the oldmaharajah betrayed great emotion, but he bravely pulled away at hishookah and tried to think over the situation. In the hope of deliveringhimself from his whole debt he had rashly given himself into the handsof a man who hated him, though he had discovered that hatred too late. He had flattered himself that the loan had been made out of friendlyfeeling and a desire for his interest and support; he found that Isaacshad lent the money, for real or imaginary religious motives, in theinterest of his co-religionists. I sat silently watching the varyingpassions as they swept over the repulsive face of the old man. Thesilence must have lasted a quarter of an hour. 

"Give me the covenant, " he said at last, "for I am in the tiger'sclutches. I will sign it, since I must. But it shall be requited to you, Abdul Hafiz; and when your body has been eaten of jackals and wild pigsin the forest, your soul shall enter into the shape of a despisedsweeper, and you and your off-spring shall scavenge the streets of thecities of my kingdom and of the kingdom of my son, and son's son, to tenthousand generations. " A Hindoo cannot express scorn more deadly or hatemore lasting than this. Isaacs smiled, but there was a concentrated lookin his face, relentless and hard, as he answered the insult. 

"I am not going to bandy words with you. But if you are not quick aboutsigning that paper I may change my mind, and send for the Angrezi sowarsfrom Peterhof. So you had better hurry yourself. " Isaacs produced asmall inkhorn and a reed pen from his pocket. "Sign, " he said, rising tohis feet "before that soldier outside passes the window three times, orI will deliver you to the British. "

Trembling in every joint, and the perspiration standing on his face likebeads, the old man seized the pen and traced his name and titles at thefoot, first of one copy, and then of the other. Isaacs followed, writinghis full name in the Persian character, and I signed my name last, "PaulGriggs, " in large letters at the bottom of each roll, adding the word"witness, " in case of the transaction becoming known. 

"And now, " said Isaacs to the maharajah, "despatch at once a messenger, and let the man here mentioned be brought under a strong guard and bycircuitous roads to the pass of Keitung, and let them there encampbefore the third week from to-day, when the moon is at the full. And Iwill be there and will receive the man. And woe to you if he come not;and woe to you if you oppress the true believers in your realm. " Heturned on his heel, and I followed him out of the room after making abrief salutation to the old man, cowering among his cushions, a ceremonywhich Isaacs omitted, whether intentionally or from forgetfulness, Icould not say. We passed through the house out into the air, andmounting our horses rode away, leaving the double row of servantssalaaming to the ground. The duration of our private interview with themaharajah had given them an immense idea of our importance. We had comeat four and it was now nearly five. The long pauses and the Persiancircumlocutions had occupied a good deal of time. 

"You do not seem to have needed my counsel or assistance much, " I said. "With such an armoury of weapons you could manage half-a-dozenmaharajahs. "

"Yes--perhaps so. But I have strong reasons for wishing this affairquickly over, and the editor of a daily paper is a thing of terror to anative prince; you must have seen that. "

"What do you mean to do with your man when he is safely in your hands, if it is not an indiscreet question?"

"Do with him?" asked Isaacs with some astonishment. "Is it possible youhave not guessed? He is a brave man, and a true believer. I will givehim money and letters, that he may make his way to Baghdad, or whereverhe will be safe. He shall depart in peace, and be as free as air. "

I had half suspected my friend of some such generous intention, but hehad played his part of unrelenting hardness so well in our lateinterview with the Hindoo prince that it seemed incomprehensible that aman should be so pitiless and so kind on the same day. There was not atrace of hardness on his beautiful features now, and as we rounded thehill and caught the last beams of the sun, now sinking behind themountains, his face seemed transfigured as with a glory, and I couldhardly bear to look at him. He held his hat in his hand and faced thewest for an instant, as though thanking the declining day for itsfreshness and beauty; and I thought to myself that the sun was lucky tosee such an exquisite picture before he bid Simla good-night, and thathe should shine the brighter for it the next day, since he would look onnothing fairer in his twelve hours' wandering over the other half ofcreation. 

"And now, " said he, "it is late, but if we ride towards Annandale we maymeet them coming back from the polo match we have missed. " His eyesglowed at the thought. Shere Ali, the maharajah, bonds, principal, andinterest, were all forgotten in the anticipation of a brief meeting withthe woman he loved. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER VI. 

"Why did you not come and see the game? After all your enthusiasm aboutpolo this morning, I did not think you would miss anything so good, "were the first words of Miss Westonhaugh as we met her and Kildare inthe narrow path that leads down to Annandale. Two men were riding behindthem, who proved to be Mr. Currie Ghyrkins and Mr. John Westonhaugh. Thelatter was duly introduced to us; a quiet, spare man, with his sister'sfeatures, but without a trace of her superb colour and animal spirits. He had the real Bombay paleness, and had been steamed to the bonethrough the rains. As we were introduced, Isaacs started and saidquickly that he believed he had met Mr. Westonhaugh before. 

"It is possible, quite possible, " said that gentleman affably, "especially if you ever go to Bombay. "

"Yes--it was in Bombay--some twelve years ago. You have probablyforgotten me. "

"Ah, yes. I was young and green then. I wonder you remember me. " He didnot show any very lively interest in the matter, though he smiledpleasantly. 

Miss Westonhaugh must have been teasing Lord Steepleton, for he lookedflushed and annoyed, and she was in capital spirits. We turned to goback with the party, and by a turn of the wrist Isaacs wheeled his horseto the side of Miss Westonhaugh's, a position he did not again abandon. They were leading, and I resolved they should have a chance, as the pathwas not broad enough for more than two to ride abreast. So I furtivelyexcited my horse by a touch of the heel and a quick strain on the curb, throwing him across the road, and thus producing a momentary delay, ofwhich the two riders in front took advantage to increase their distance. Then we fell in, Mr. Ghyrkins and I in front, while the dejected Kildarerode behind with Mr. John Westonhaugh. Ghyrkins and I, being heavy men, heavily mounted, controlled the situation, and before long Isaacs andMiss Westonhaugh were a couple of hundred yards ahead, and we onlycaught occasional glimpses of them through the trees as they wound inand out along the path. 

"What are those youngsters talking about, back there? Tigers, I'll bebound, " said Mr. Ghyrkina to me. Sure enough, they were. 

"What do you suppose I found when we got back this afternoon, Mr. Griggs? Why, this hair-brained young Kildare has been proposing to myniece----" his horse stumbled, but recovered himself in a moment. 

"You don't mean it, " said I, rather startled. 

"Oh no, no, no. I don't mean that at all. Ha! ha! ha! very good, verygood. No, no. Lord Steepleton wants us all to go on a tiger-hunt toamuse John, and he proposes--ha! ha!--really too funny of me--that MissWestonhaugh should go with us. "

"I suppose you have no objection, Mr. Ghyrkins? Ladies constantly go onsuch expeditions, and they do not appear to be the least in the way. "

"Objections? Of course I have objections. Do you suppose I want to dragmy niece to a premature grave? Think of the fever and the rough livingand all, and she only just out from England. "

"She looks as if she could stand anything, " I said, as just then an openspace in the trees gave us a glimpse of Miss Westonhaugh and Isaacsambling along and apparently in earnest conversation. She certainlylooked strong enough to go tiger-hunting that minute, as she sat erectbut half turned to the off side, listening to what Isaacs seemed to besaying. 

"I hope you will not go and tell her so, " said Ghyrkins. "If she gets anidea that the thing is possible, there will be no holding her. You don'tknow her. I hardly know her myself. Never saw her since she was a babytill the other day. Now you are the sort of person to go after tigers. Why do you not go off with my nephew and Mr. Isaacs and Kildare, andkill as many of them as you like?"

"I have no objection, I am sure. I suppose the _Howler_ could spare mefor a fortnight, now that I have converted the Press Commissioner, yournew _deus ex machina_ for the obstruction of news. What a motley partywe should be. Let me see. --a Bombay Civil Servant, an Irish nobleman, aPersian millionaire, and a Yankee newspaper man. By Jove! add to that afamous Revenue Commissioner and a reigning beauty, and the sextett iscomplete. " Mr. Ghyrkins looked pleased at the gross flattery of himself. I recollected suddenly that, though he was far from famous as a revenuecommissioner, I had read of some good shooting he had done in hisyounger days. Here was a chance. 

"Besides, Mr. Ghyrkins, a tiger-hunting party would not be the thingwithout some seasoned Nimrod to advise and direct us. Who so fitted forthe post as the man of many a chase, the companion of Maori, the slayerof the twelve foot tiger in the Nepaul hills in 1861?"

"You have a good memory, Mr. Griggs, " said the old fellow, perfectlydelighted, and now fairly launched on his favourite topic. "By Gad, sir, if I thought I should get such another chance I would go with youto-morrow!"

"Why not? there are lots of big man-eaters about, " and I incontinentlyreeled off half a page of statistics, more or less accurate, about thenumber of persons destroyed by snakes and wild beasts in the last year. "Of course most of those deaths were from tigers, and it is a reallygood action to kill a few. Many people can see tigers but cannot shootthem, whereas your deeds of death amongst them ate a matter of history. You really ought to be philanthropic, Mr. Ghyrkins, and go with us. Wemight stand a chance of seeing some real sport then. "

"Why, really, now that you make me think of it, I believe I should likeit amazingly, and I could leave my niece withLady--Lady--Stick-in-the-mud; what the deuce is her name? The wife ofthe Chief Justice, you know. You ought to know, really--I never remembernames much;" he jerked out his sentences irately. 

"Certainly, Lady Smith-Tompkins, you mean. Yes, you might do that--thatis, if Miss Westonhaugh has had the measles, and is not afraid of them. I heard this morning that three of the little Smith-Tompkinses had themquite badly. "

"You don't say so! Well, well, we shall find some one else, no doubt. "

I was certain that at that very moment Isaacs and Miss Westonhaugh wereplanning the whole expedition, and so I returned to the question ofsport and inquired where we should go. This led to considerablediscussion, and before we arrived at Mr. Ghyrkins' bungalow--still inthe same order--it was very clear that the old sportsman had made up hismind to kill one more tiger at all events; and that, rather than foregothe enjoyment of the chase, he would be willing to take his niece withhim. As for the direction of the expedition, that could be decided in aday or two. It was not the best season for tigers--the early spring isbetter--but they are always to be found in the forests of the Terai, thecountry along the base of the hills, north of Oude. 

When we reached the house it was quite dark, for we had ridden slowly. The light from the open door, falling across the verandah, showed usMiss Westonhaugh seated in a huge chair, and Isaacs standing by her sideslightly bending, and holding his hat in his hand. They were stilltalking, but as we rode up to the lawn and shouted for the saices, Isaacs stood up and looked across towards us, and their voices ceased. It was evident that he had succeeded in thoroughly interesting her, forI thought--though it was some distance, and the light on them was notstrong--that as he straightened himself and stopped speaking, she lookedup to his face as if regretting that he did not go on. I dismounted withthe rest and walked up to bid Miss Westonhaugh good-night. 

"You must come and dine to-morrow night, " said Mr. Ghyrkins, "and wewill arrange all about it. Sharp seven. To-morrow is Sunday, you know. Kildare, you must come too, if you mean business. Seven. We must looksharp and start, if we mean to come back here before the Viceroy goes. "

"Oh in that case, " said Kildare, turning to me, "we can settle all aboutthe polo match for Monday, can't we?"

"Of course, very good of you to take the trouble. "

"Not a bit of it. Good-night. " We bowed and went back to find our horsesin the gloom. After some fumbling, for it was intensely dark afterfacing the light in the doorway of the bungalow, we got into the saddleand turned homeward through the trees. 

"Thank you, Griggs, " said Isaacs. "May your feet never weary, and yourshadow never be less. "

"Don't mention it, and thanks about the shadow. Only it is never likelyto be less than at the present moment. How dark it is, to be sure!" Iknew well enough what he was thanking me for. I lit a cheroot. 

"Isaacs, " I said, "you are a pretty cool hand, upon my word. "

"Why?"

"Why, indeed! Here you and Miss Westonhaugh have been calmly planning anextensive tiger-hunt, when you have promised to be in the neighbourhoodof Keitung in three weeks, wherever that may be. I suppose it is in theopposite direction from here, for you will not find any tigers nearerthan the Terai at this time of year. "

"I do not see the difficulty, " he answered. "We can be in Oude in twodays from here; shoot tigers for ten days, and be here again in two daysmore. That is just a fortnight. It will not take me a week to reachKeitung. I am much mistaken if I do not get there in three days. I shalllay a _dâk_ by messengers before I go to Oude, and between a double setof coolies and lots of ponies wherever the roads are good enough, Ishall be at the place of meeting soon enough, never fear. "

"Oh, very well; but I hardly think Ghyrkins will want to return underthree weeks; and--I did not think you would want to leave the party. " Hehad evidently planned the whole three weeks' business carefully. I didnot continue the conversation. He was naturally absorbed in thearrangement of his numerous schemes--no easy matter, when affairs ofmagnitude have to be ordered to suit the exigencies of a _grandepassion_. I shrank from intruding on his reflections, and I had quiteenough to do in keeping my horse on his feet in the thick darkness. Suddenly he reared violently, and then stood still, quivering in everylimb. Isaacs' horse plunged and snorted by my side, and cannoned heavilyagainst me. Then all was quiet. I could see nothing. Presently a voice, low and musical, broke on the darkness, and I thought I coulddistinguish a tall figure on foot at Isaacs' knee. Whoever the man washe must be on the other side of my companion, but I made out a head fromwhich the voice proceeded. 

"Peace, Abdul Hafiz!" it said. 

"Aleikum Salaam, Ram Lal!" answered Isaacs. He must have recognised theman by his voice. 

"Abdul, " continued the stranger, speaking Persian. "I have business withthee this night; thou art going home. If it is thy pleasure I will bewith thee in two hours in thy dwelling. "

"Thy pleasure is my pleasure. Be it so. " I thought the head disappeared. 

"Be it so, " the voice echoed, growing faint, as if moving rapidly awayfrom us. The horses, momentarily startled by the unexpected pedestrian, regained their equanimity. I confess the incident gave me a curiouslyunpleasant sensation. It was so very odd that a man on foot--a Persian, I judged, by his accent--should know of my companion's whereabouts, andthat they should recognise each other by their voices. I recollectedthat our coming to Mr. Ghyrkins' bungalow was wholly unpremeditated, andI was sure Isaacs had spoken to none but our party--not even to hissaice--since our meeting with the Westonhaughs on the Annandale road anhour and a half before. 

"I wonder what he wants, " said my friend, apparently soliloquising. 

"He seems to know where to find you, at all events, " I answered. "Hemust have second sight to know you had been to Carisbrooke. "

"He has. He is a very singular personage altogether. However, he hasdone me more than one service before now, and though I do not comprehendhis method of arriving at conclusions, still less his mode oflocomotion, I am always glad of his advice. "

"But what is he? Is he a Persian?--you called him by an Indian name, butthat may be a disguise--is he a wise man from Iran?"

"He is a very wise man, but not from Iran. No. He is a Brahmin by birth, a Buddhist by adopted religion, and he calls himself an 'adept' byprofession, I suppose, if he can be said to have any. He comes and goesunexpectedly, with amazing rapidity. His visits are brief, but he alwaysseems to be perfectly conversant with the matter in hand, whatever itbe. He will come to-night and give me about twenty words of advice, which I may follow or may not, as my judgment dictates; and before Ihave answered or recovered from my surprise, he will have vanished, apparently into space; for if I ask my servants where he is gone theywill stare at me as if I were crazy, until I show them that the room isempty, and accuse them of going to sleep instead of seeing who goes inand out of my apartment. He speaks more languages than I do, and better. He once told me he was educated in Edinburgh, and his perfect knowledgeof European affairs and of European topics leads me to think he musthave been there a long time. Have you ever looked into the higher phasesof Buddhism? It is a very interesting study. "

"Yes, I have read something about it. Indeed I have read a good deal, and have thought more. The subject is full of interest, as you say. If Ihad been an Asiatic by birth, I am sure I should have sought to attain_moksha_, even if it required a lifetime to pass through all the degreesof initiation. There is something so rational about their theories, disclaiming, as they do, all supernatural power; and, at the same time, there is something so pure and high in their conception of life, intheir ideas about the ideal, if you will allow me the expression, that Ido not wonder Edwin Arnold has set our American transcendentalists andUnitarians and freethinkers speculating about it all, and wonderingwhether the East may not have had men as great as Emerson and Channingamong its teachers. " I paused. My greatest fault is that if any onestarts me upon a subject I know anything about, I immediately becomedidactic. So I paused and reflected that Isaacs, being, as he himselfdeclared, frequently in the society of an "adept" of a high class, wassure to know a great deal more than I. 

"I too, " he said, "have been greatly struck, and sometimes almostconverted, by the beauty of the higher Buddhist thoughts. As for theirapparently supernatural powers and what they do with them, I carenothing about phenomena of that description. We live in a land wheremarvels are common enough. Who has ever explained the mango trick, orthe basket trick, or the man who throws a rope up into the air and thenclimbs up it and takes the rope after him, disappearing into blue space?And yet you have seen those things--I have seen them, every one has seenthem, --and the performers claim no supernatural agency or assistance. Itis merely a difference of degree, whether you make a mango grow from theseed to the tree in half an hour, or whether you transport yourself tenthousand miles in as many seconds, passing through walls of brick andstone on your way, and astonishing some ordinary mortal by showing thatyou know all about his affairs. I see no essential difference betweenthe two 'phenomena, ' as the newspapers call them, since Madame Blavatskyhas set them all by the ears in this country. It is just the differencein the amount of power brought to bear on the action. That is all. Ihave seen, in a workshop in Calcutta, a hammer that would crack aneggshell without crushing it, or bruise a lump of iron as big as yourhead into a flat cake. 'Phenomena' may amuse women and children, but thereal beauty of the system lies in the promised attainment of happiness. Whether that state of supreme freedom from earthly care gives thefortunate initiate the power of projecting himself to the antipodes by amere act of volition, or of condensing the astral fluid into articles ofdaily use, or of stimulating the vital forces of nature to an abnormalactivity, is to me a matter of supreme indifference. I am tolerablyhappy in my own way as things are. I should not be a whit happier if Iwere able to go off after dinner and take a part in American politicsfor a few hours, returning to business here to-morrow morning. "

"That is an extreme case, " I said. "No man in his senses ever connectsthe idea of happiness with American politics. "

"Of one thing I am sure, though. " He paused as if choosing his words. "Iam sure of this. If any unforeseen event, whether an act of folly of myown, or the hand of Allah, who is wise, should destroy the peace of mindI have enjoyed for ten years, with very trifling interruption, --ifanything should occur to make me permanently unhappy, beyond thepossibility of ordinary consolation, --I should seek comfort in the studyof the pure doctrines of the higher Buddhists. The pursuit of ahappiness, so immeasurably beyond all earthly considerations of bodilycomfort or of physical enjoyment, can surely not be inconsistent with myreligion--or with yours. "

"No indeed, " said I. "But, considering that you are the strictest ofMohammedans, it seems to me you are wonderfully liberal. So you haveseriously contemplated the possibility of your becoming one of the'brethren'--as they style themselves?"

"It never struck me until to-day that anything might occur by which mylife could be permanently disturbed. Something to-day has whispered tome that such an existence could not be permanent. I am sure that itcannot be. The issue must be either to an infinite happiness or to astill more infinite misery. I cannot tell which. " His clear, evenlymodulated voice trembled a little. We were in sight of the lights fromthe hotel. 

"I shall not dine with you to-night, Griggs. I will have something in myown rooms. Come in as soon as you have done--that is if you are free. There is no reason why you should not see Ram Lal the adept, since wethink alike about his religion, or school, or philosophy--find a namefor it while you are dining. " And we separated for a time. 

It had been a long and exciting day to me. I felt no more inclined thanhe did for the din and racket and lights of the public dining-room. So Ifollowed his example and had something in my own apartment. Then Isettled myself to a hookah, resolved not to take advantage of Isaacs'invitation until near the time when he expected Ram Lal. I felt the needof an hour's solitude to collect my thoughts and to think over theevents of the last twenty-four hours. I recognised that I was fastbecoming very intimate with Isaacs, and I wanted to think about him andexcogitate the problem of his life; but when I tried to revolve thesituation logically, and deliver to myself a verdict, I found myselfcarried off at a tangent by the wonderful pictures that passed before myeyes. I could not detach the events from the individual. His face wasever before me, whether I thought of Miss Westonhaugh, or of thewretched old maharajah, or of Ram Lal the Buddhist. Isaacs was thecentral figure in every picture, always in the front, always calm andbeautiful, always controlling the events around him. Then I entered on aseries of trite reflections to soothe my baffled reason, as a man willwho is used to understanding what goes on before him and suddenly findshimself at a loss. Of course, I said to myself, it is no wonder hecontrols things, or appears to. The circumstances in which I find thisthree days' acquaintance are emphatically those of his own making. Hehas always been a successful man, and he would not raise spirits that hecould not keep well in hand. He knows perfectly well what he is about inmaking love to that beautiful creature, and is no doubt at this momentlaughing in his sleeve at my simplicity in believing that he was reallyasking my advice. Pshaw! as if any advice could influence a man likethat! Absurd. 

I sipped my coffee in disgust with myself. All the time, while trying topersuade myself that Isaacs was only a very successful schemer, neitherbetter nor worse than other men, I was conscious of the face that wouldnot be banished from my sight. I saw the beautiful boyish look in hisdeep dark eyes, the gentle curve of the mouth, the grand smootharchitrave of the brows. No--I was a fool! I had never met a man likehim, nor should again. How could Miss Westonhaugh save herself fromloving such a perfect creature? I thought, too, of his generosity. Hewould surely keep his promise and deliver poor Shere Ali, hunted todeath by English and Afghan foes, from all his troubles. Had he not theMaharajah of Baithopoor in his power? He might have exacted the fullpayment of the debt, principal and interest, and saved the Afghan chiefinto the bargain. But he feared lest the poor Mohammedans should sufferfrom the prince's extortion, and he forgave freely the interest, amounting now to a huge sum, and put off the payment of the bond itselfto the maharajah's convenience. Did ever an Oriental forgive a debtbefore even to his own brother? Not in my experience. 

I rose and went down to Isaacs. I found him as on the previous evening, among his cushions with a manuscript book. He looked up smiling andmotioned me to be seated, keeping his place on the page with one finger. He finished the verse before he spoke, and then laid the book down andleaned back. 

"So you have made up your mind that you would like to see Ram Lal. Hewill be here in a minute, unless he changes his mind and does not comeafter all. "

There was a sound of voices outside. Some one asked if Isaacs were in, and the servant answered. A tall figure in a gray _caftán_ and a plainwhite turban stood in the door. 

"I never change my mind, " said the stranger, in excellent English, though with an accent peculiar to the Hindoo tongue when struggling withEuropean languages. His voice was musical and high in pitch, though softand sweet in tone. The quality of voice that can be heard at a greatdistance, with no apparent effort to the speaker. "I never change mymind. I am here. Is it well with you?"

"It is well, Ram Lal. I thank you. Be seated, if you will stay with us awhile. This is my friend Mr. Griggs, of whom you probably know. Hethinks as I do on many points, and I was anxious that you should meet. "

While Isaacs was speaking, Ram Lal advanced into the room and stood amoment under the soft light, a gray figure, very tall, but not otherwiseremarkable. He was all gray. The long _caftán_ wrapped round him, theturban which I had first thought white, the skin of his face, thepointed beard and long moustache, the heavy eyebrows--a study of graysagainst the barbaric splendour of the richly hung wall--a soft outlineon which the yellow light dwelt lovingly, as if weary of being cast backand reflected from the glory of gold and the thousand facets of thepriceless gems. Ram Lal looked toward me, and as I gazed into his eyes Isaw that they too were gray--a very singular thing in the East--and thatthey were very far apart, giving his face a look of great dignity andfearless frankness. To judge by his features he seemed to be very thin, and his high shoulders were angular, though the long loose garmentconcealed the rest of his frame from view. I had plenty of time to notethese details, for he stood a full minute in the middle of the room, asif deciding whether to remain or to go. Then he moved quietly to a divanand sat down cross-legged. 

"Abdul, you have done a good deed to-day, and I trust you will notchange your mind before you have carried out your present intentions. "

"I never change my mind, Bam Lai, " said Isaacs, smiling as he quoted hisvisitor's own words. I was startled at first. What good deed was theBuddhist referring to if not to the intended liberation of Shere Ali?How could he know of it? Then I reflected that this man was, accordingto Isaacs' declaration, an adept of the higher grades, a seer and aknower of men's hearts. I resolved not to be astonished at anything thatoccurred, only marvelling that it should have pleased this extraordinaryman to make his entrance like an ordinary mortal, instead of through thefloor or the ceiling. 

"Pardon me, " answered Ram Lal, "if I venture to contradict you. You dochange your mind sometimes. Who was it who lately scoffed at women, their immortality, their virtue, and their intellect? Will you tell menow, friend Abdul, that you have not changed your mind? Do you think ofanything, sleeping or waking, but the one woman for whom you _have_changed your mind? Is not her picture ever before you, and the breath ofher beauty upon your soul? Have you not met her in the spirit as well asin the flesh? Surely we shall hear no more of your doubts about womenfor some time to come. I congratulate you, as far as that goes, on yourconversion. You have made a step towards a higher understanding of theworld you live in. "

Isaacs did not seem in the least surprised at his visitor's intimateacquaintance with his affairs. He bowed his head in silence, acquiescingto what Bam Lai had said, and waited for him to proceed. 

"I have come, " continued the Buddhist, "to give you some goodadvice--the best I have for you. You will probably not take it, for youare the most self-reliant man I know, though you have changed a littlesince you have been in love, witness your sudden intimacy with Mr. Griggs. " He looked at me, and there was a faint approach to a smile inhis gray eyes. "My advice to you is, do not let this projectedtiger-hunt take place if you can prevent it. No good can come of it, andharm may. Now I have spoken because my mind would not be at rest if Idid not warn you. Of course you will do as you please, only never forgetthat I pointed out to you the right course in time. "

"Thank you, Ram Lal, for your friendly concern in my behalf. I do notthink I shall act as you suggest, but I am nevertheless grateful to you. There is one thing I want to ask you, and consult you about, however. "

"My friend, what is the use of my giving you advice that you will notfollow? If I lived with you, and were your constant companion, you wouldask me to advise you twenty times a day, and then you would go and dothe diametric opposite of what I suggested. If I did not see in yousomething that I see in few other men, I would not be here. There areplenty of fools who have wit enough to take counsel of a wise man. Thereare few men of wit wise enough to be guided by their betters, as if theywere only fools for the time. Yet because you are so wayward I will helpyou once or twice more, and then I will leave you to your owncourse--which you, in your blindness, will call your kismet, not seeingthat your fate is continually in your own hands--more so at this momentthan ever before. Ask, and I will answer. "

"Thanks, Ram Lal. It is this I would know. You are aware that I haveundertaken a novel kind of bargain. The man you wot of is to bedelivered to me near Keitung. I am anxious for the man's safetyafterwards, and I would be glad of some hint about disposing of him. Imust go alone, for I do not want any witness of what I am going to do, and as a mere matter of personal safety for myself and the man I amgoing to set free, I must decide on some plan of action when I meet theband of sowars who will escort him. They are capable of murdering usboth if the maharajah instructs them to. As long as I am alive to bringthe old man into disgrace with the British, the captive is safe; but itwould be an easy matter for those fellows to dispose of us together, andthere would be an end of the business. "

"Of course they could, " replied Ram Lal, adding in an ironical tone "andif you insist upon putting your head down the tiger's throat, how do youexpect me to prevent the brute from snapping it off? That would be a'phenomenon, ' would it not? And only this evening you were saying thatyou despised 'phenomena. '"

"I said that such things were indifferent to me. I did not say Idespised them. But I think that this thing may be done withoutperforming any miracles. "

"If it were not such a good action on your part I would have nothing todo with it. But since you mean to risk your neck for your own peculiarviews of what is right, I will endeavour that you shall not break it. Iwill meet you a day's journey before you reach Keitung, somewhere on theroad, and we will go together and do the business. But if I am to helpyou I will not promise not to perform some miracles, as you call them, though you know very well they are no such thing. Meanwhile, do as youplease about the tiger-hunt; I shall say no more about it. " He paused, and then, withdrawing one delicate hand from the folds of his _caftán_, he pointed to the wall behind Isaacs and me, and said, "What a verysingular piece of workmanship is that yataghan!"

We both naturally turned half round to look at the weapon he spoke of, which was the central piece in a trophy of jewelled sabres and Afghanknives. 

"Yes, " said Isaacs, turning back to answer his guest, "it is a ----" Hestopped, and I, who had not seen the weapon before, lost among so many, and was admiring its singular beauty, turned too; to my astonishment Isaw that Isaacs was gazing into empty space. The divan where Ram Lal hadbeen sitting an instant before, was vacant. He was gone. 

"That is rather sudden, " I said. 

"More so than usual, " was the reply. "Did you see him go? Did he go outby the door?"

"Not I, " I answered, "when I looked round at the wall he was placidlysitting on that divan pointing with one hand at the yataghan. Does hegenerally go so quickly?"

"Yes, more or less. Now I will show you some pretty sport. " He rose tohis feet and went to the door. "Narain!" he cried. Narain, the bearer, who was squatting against the door-post outside, sprang up and stoodbefore his master. "Narain, why did you not show that pundit the waydownstairs? What do you mean? have you no manners?"

Narain stood open mouthed. "What pundit, sahib?" he asked. 

"Why, the pundit who came a quarter of an hour ago, you donkey! He hasjust gone out, and you did not even get up and make a salaam, youimpertinent vagabond!" Narain protested that no pundit, or sahib, or anyone else, had passed the threshold since Ram Lal had entered. "Ha! you_budmash_. You lazy dog of a Hindoo! you have been asleep again, youswine, you son of a pig, you father of piglings! Is that the way you doyour work in my service?" Isaacs was enjoying the joke in a quiet wayimmensely. 

"Sahib, " said the trembling Narain, apparently forgetting the genealogyhis master had thrust upon him, "Sahib, you are protector of the poor, you are my father and my mother, and my brother, and all my relations, "the common form of Hindoo supplication, "but, Sri Krishnaji! by theblessed Krishna, I have not slept a wink. "

"Then I suppose you mean me to believe that the pundit went through theceiling, or is hidden under the cushions. Swear not by your false idols, slave; I shall not believe you for that, you dog of an unbeliever, yousoor-be-iman, you swine without faith!"

"Han, sahib, han!" cried Narain, seizing at the idea that the pundit haddisappeared mysteriously through the walls. "Yes, sahib, the pundit is agreat yogi, and has made the winds carry him off. " The fellow thoughtthis was a bright idea, not by any means beneath consideration. Isaacsappeared somewhat pacified. 

"What makes you think he is a yogi, dog?" he inquired in a milder tone. Narain had no answer ready, but stood looking rather stupidly throughthe door at the room whence the unearthly visitor had so suddenlydisappeared. "Well, " continued Isaacs, "you are more nearly right thanyou imagine. The pundit is a bigger yogi than any your idiotic religioncan produce. Never mind, there is an eight anna bit for you, because Isaid you were asleep when you were not. " Narain bent to the ground inthanks, as his master turned on his heel. "Not that he minds being toldthat he is a pig, in the least, " said Isaacs. "I would not call aMussulman so, but you can insult these Hindoos so much worse in otherways that I think the porcine simile is quite merciful by comparison. "He sat down again among the cushions, and putting off his slippers, curled himself comfortably together for a chat. 

"What do you think of Ram Lal?" he asked, when Narain had broughthookahs and sherbet. 

"My dear fellow, I have hardly made up my mind what to think. I have notaltogether recovered from my astonishment. I confess that there wasnothing startling about his manner or his person. He behaved and talkedlike a well educated native, in utter contrast to the amazing things hesaid, and to his unprecedented mode of leave-taking. It would haveseemed more natural--I would say, more fitting--if he had appeared inthe classic dress of an astrologer, surrounded with zodiacs, and bluelights, and black cats. Why do you suppose he wants you to abandon thetiger-hunt?"

"I cannot tell. Perhaps he thinks something may happen to me to preventmy keeping the other engagement. Perhaps he does not approve----" hestopped, as if not wanting to approach the subject of Ram Lal'sdisapprobation. "I intend, nevertheless, that the expedition come off, and I mean, moreover, to have a very good time, and to kill a tiger if Isee one. "

"I thought he seemed immensely pleased at your conversion, as he callsit. He said that your newly acquired belief in woman was a step towardsa better understanding of life. "

"Of the world, he said, " answered-Isaacs, correcting me. "There is agreat difference between the 'world' and 'life. ' The one is a finite, the other an infinite expression. I believe, from what I have learned ofRam Lal, that the ultimate object of the adepts is happiness, only to beattained by wisdom, and I apprehend that by wisdom they mean a knowledgeof the world in the broadest sense of the word. The world to them is agreat repository of facts, physical and social, of which they propose toacquire a specific knowledge by transcendental methods. If that seems toyou a contradiction of terms, I will try and express myself better. Ifyou understand me, I am satisfied. Of course I use transcendental in thesense in which it is applied by Western mathematicians to a mode ofreasoning which I very imperfectly comprehend, save that it consists inreaching finite results by an adroit use of the infinite. "

"Not a bad definition of transcendental analysis for a man who professesto know nothing about it, " said I. "I would not accuse you of acontradiction of terms, either. I have often thought that what somepeople call the 'philosophy of the nineteenth century, ' is nothing afterall but the unconscious application of transcendental analysis to theeveryday affairs of life. Consider the theories of Darwin, for instance. What are they but an elaborate application of the higher calculus? Hedifferentiates men into protoplasms, and integrates protoplasms intomonkeys, and shows the caudal appendage to be the independent variable, a small factor in man, a large factor in monkey. And has not the idea ofsuccessive development supplanted the early conception of spontaneousperfection? Take an illustration from India--the new system ofcompetition, which the natives can never understand. Formerly themembers of the Civil Service received their warrants by divineauthority, so to speak. They were born perfect, as Aphrodite from thefoam of the sea; they sprang armed and ready from the head of old JohnCompany as Pallas Athene from the head of Zeus. Now all that is changed;they are selected from a great herd of candidates by methods of extremeexactness, and when they are chosen they represent the final result ofinfinite probabilities for and against their election. They are allexactly alike; they are a formula for taxation and the administration ofjustice, and so long as you do not attempt to use the formula for anyother purpose, such, for instance, as political negotiation or thecensorship of the public press, the equation will probably be amenableto solution. "

"As I told you, " said Isaacs, "I know nothing, or next to nothing, ofWestern mathematics, but I have a general idea of the comparison youmake. In Asia and in Asiatic minds, there prevails an idea thatknowledge can be assimilated once and for all. That if you can obtainit, you immediately possess the knowledge of everything--the pass-keythat shall unlock every door. That is the reason of the prolongedfasting and solitary meditation of the ascetics. They believe that byattenuating the bond between soul and body, the soul can be liberatedand can temporarily identify itself with other objects, animate andinanimate, besides the especial body to which it belongs, acquiring thusa direct knowledge of those objects, and they believe that this directknowledge remains. Western philosophers argue that the only acquaintancea man can have with bodies external to his mind is that which heacquires by the medium of his bodily sensea--though thesa, arethemselves external to his mind, in the truest sanse. The senses notbeing absolutely reliable, knowledge acquired by means of them is notabsolutely reliable either. So the ultimate difference between theAsiatic saint and the European man of science is, that while the formerbelieves all knowledge to be directly within the grasp of the soul, under certain conditions, the latter, on the other hand, denies that anyknowledge can be absolute, being all obtained indirectly through amedium not absolutely reliable. The reasoning, by which the Western mindallows itself to act fearlessly on information which is not (accordingto its own verdict) necessarily accurate, depends on a clever use of theinfinite in unconsciously calculating the probabilities of thataccuracy--and this entirely falls in with what you said about theapplication of transcendental analysis to the affairs of everyday life. "

"I see you have entirely comprehended me, " I said. "But as for theAsiatic mind--you seem to deny to it the use of the ealculus of thought, and yet you denned adepts as attempting to acquire specific knowledge bygeneral and transcendental methods. Here is a real contradiction. "

"No; I see no confusion, for I do not include the higher adepts ineither class, sinoe they have the wisdom to make use of the learning andof the methods of both. They seem to me to be endeavouring, roughlyspeaking, to combine the two. They believe absolute knowledgeattainable, and they devote much time to the study of nature, in whichpursuit they make use of highly analytical methods. They subdividephenomena to an extent that would surprise and probably amuse a Westernthinker. They count fourteen distinct colours in the rainbow, andinvariably connect sound, even to the finest degrees, with shades ofcolour. I could name many other peculiarities of their mode of studyingnatural phenomena, which displays a much more minute subdivision andclassification of results than you are accustomed to. But beside allthis they consider that the senses of the normal man are susceptible ofinfinite refinement, and that upon a greater or less degree of acquiredacuteness of perception the value of his results must depend. To attainthis high degree of sensitiveness, necessary to the perception of verysubtle phenomena, the adepts find it necessary to train their faculties, bodily and mental, by a life of rigid abstention from all pleasures orindulgences not indispensable in maintaining the relation between thephysical and intellectual powers. "

"The common _fakir_ aims at the same thing, " I remarked. 

"But he does not attain it. The common _fakir_ is an idiot. He may, byfasting and self-torture, of a kind no adept would approve, sharpen hissenses till he can hear and see some sounds and sights inaudible andinvisible to you and me. But his whole system lacks any intellectualbasis: he regards knowledge as something instantaneously attainable whenit comes at last; he believes he will have a vision, and that everythingwill be revealed to him. His devotion to his object is admirable, whenhe is a genuine ascetic and not, as is generally the case, agood-for-nothing who makes his piety pay for his subsistence; but it isdevotion of a very low intellectual order. The true adept thinks thetraining of the mind in intellectual pursuits no less necessary than themoderate and reasonable mortification of the flesh, and higher Buddhismpays as much attention to the one as to the other. "

"Excuse me, " said I, "if I make a digression. I think there are twoclasses of minds commonly to be found among thinkers all over the world. The one seek to attain to knowledge, the others strive to acquire it. There is a class of commonplace intellects who regard knowledge of allkinds in the light of a ladder; one ladder for each science, and therungs of the ladders are the successive facts mastered by an effort andremembered in the order they have been passed. These persons think it ispossible to attain to high eminence on one particular ladder, that is, in one particular science, without having been up any of the otherladders, that is, without a knowledge of other branches of seience. Thisis the mind of the plodder, the patient man who climbs, step by step, inhis own unvarying round of thought; not seeing that it is but the wheelof a treadmill over which he is labouring, and that though every stepmay pass, and repass, beneath his toiling feet, he can never obtain abirdseye view of what he is doing, because his eyes are continuallyfixed on the step in front. "

"But, " I continued, as Isaacs assented to my simile by a nod, "there isanother class of minds also. There are persons who regard the wholeimaginable and unimaginable knowledge of mankind, past, present, andfuture, as a boundless plain over which they hang suspended and can lookdown. Immediately beneath them there is a map spread out whichrepresents, in the midst of the immense desert, the things theythemselves know. It is a puzzle map, like those they make for children, where each piece fits into its appointed place, and will fit nowhereelse; every piece of knowledge acquired fits into the space allotted toit, and when there is a piece, that is, a fact, wanting, it is stillpossible to define its extent and shape by the surrounding portions, though all the details of colour and design are lacking. These are thepeople who regard knowledge as a whole, harmonious, when every scienceand fragment of a science has its appointed station and is necessary tocompleteness of perfect knowledge. I hope I have made clear to you whatI mean, though I am conscious of only sketching the outlines of adistinction which I believe to be fundamental. "

"Of course it is fundamental. Broadly, it is the difference betweenanalytic and synthetic thought; between the subjective and the objectiveviews; between the finite conception of a limited world and the infiniteideal of perfect wisdom. I understand you perfectly. "

"You puzzle me continually, Isaacs. Where did you learn to talk about'analytic' and 'synthetic, ' and 'subjective' and 'objective, ' andtranscendental analysis, and so forth?" It seemed so consistent with hismind that he should understand the use of philosophical terms, that Ihad noi realised how odd it was that a man of his purely Orientaleducation should know anything about the subject. His very broadapplication of the words 'analytic' and 'synthetic' to my pair ofillustrations attracted my attention and prompted the question I hadasked. 

"I read a good deal, " he said simply. Then he added in a reflectivetone, "I rather think I have a philosophical mind. The old man whotaught me theology in Istamboul when I was a boy used to talk philosophyto me by the hour, though I do not believe he knew much about it. He wasa plodder, and went up ladders in search of information, like the manyou describe. But he was very patient and good to me; the peace of Allahbe with him. "

It was late, and soon afterwards we parted for the night. The next daywas Sunday, and I had a heap of unanswered letters to attend to, so weagreed to meet after tiffin and ride together before dining with Mr. Ghyrkins and the Westonhaughs. 

I went to my room and sat a while over a volume of Kant, which I alwaystravel with--a sort of philosopher's stone on which to whet the mind'stools when they are dulled with boring into the geological strata ofother people's ideas. I was too much occupied with the personality ofthe man I had been talking with to read long, and so I abandoned myselfto a reverie, passing in review the events of the long day. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER VII. 

The Sabbatarian tendency of the English mind at home and abroad isproverbial, and if they are well-behaved on Sunday in London they aremodels of virtue in Simla on the same day. Whether they labour and arewell-fed and gouty in their island home, or suffer themselves to beboiled for gain in the tropical kettles of Ceylon and Singapore; whetherthey risk their lives in hunting for the north pole or the northwestpassage, or endanger their safety in the pursuit of tigers in the Terai, they will have their Sunday, come rain, come shine. On the deck of thesteamer in the Red Sea, in the cabin of the inbound Arctic explorer, inthe crowded Swiss hotel, or the straggling Indian hill station, there isalways a parson of some description, in a surplice of no description atall, who produces a Bible and a couple of well-thumbed sermons from therecesses of his trunk or his lunch basket, or his gun-case, and goes atthe work of weekly redemption with a will. And, what is more, he islistened to, and for the time being--though on week days he is styled abore by the old and a prig by the young--he becomes temporarily investedwith a dignity not his own, with an authority he could not claim on anyother day. It is the dignity of a people who with all their faults havethe courage of their opinions, and it is the authority that they havebeen taught from their childhood to reverence, whenever their traditionsgive it the right to assert itself. Not otherwise. It is a fine trait ofnational character, though it is one which has brought upon the Englishmuch unmerited ridicule. One may differ from them in faith and in one'sestimate of the real value of these services, which are often only savedfrom being irreverent in their performance by the perfect sincerity ofparson and congregation. But no one who dispassionately judges them candeny that the custom inspires respect for English consistency andadmiration for their supreme contempt of surroundings. 

I presume that the periodical manifestations of religious belief towhich I refer are intimately and indissolubly connected with the staidand funereal solemnity which marks an Englishman's dress, conversation, and conduct on Sunday. He is a different being for the nonce, and mustsustain the entire character of his dual existence, or it will fall tothe ground and forsake him altogether. He cannot take his religion inthe morning and enjoy himself the rest of the day. He must abstain fromeverything that could remind him that he has a mind at all, besides asoul. No amusement will he tolerate, no reading of even the mostharmless fiction can he suffer, while he is in the weekly devotionaltrance. 

I cannot explain these things; they are race questions, problems for theethnologist. Certain it is, however, that the partial decay of strictSabbatarianism which seems to have set in during the last quarter of acentury has not been attended by any notable development of power inEnglish thought of that class. The first Republic tried the experimentof the decimal week, and it was a failure. The English who attempt toput off even a little of the quaint armour of righteousness, which theyhave been accustomed to buckle on every seventh day for so manygenerations, are not so successful in the attempt as to attract many tofollow them. They are not graceful in their holiday gambols. 

Meditating somewhat on this wise I lay in my long chair by the open doorthat Sunday morning in September. It was a little warmer again and thesun shone pleasantly across the lawn on the great branches and brightleaves of the rhododendron. The house was very quiet. All the inmateswere gone to the church on the mall, and the servants were basking inthe last few days of warmth they would enjoy before their mastersreturned to the plains. The Hindoo servant hates the cold. He fears itas he fears cobras, fever, and freemasons. His ideal life is nothing todo, nothing to wear, and plenty to eat, with the thermometer at 135degrees in the verandah and 110 inside. Then he is happy. His bodyswells with much good rice and _dal_, and his heart with pride; he willwear as little as you will let him, and whether you will let him or not, he will do less work in a given time than any living description ofservant. So they basked in rows in the sunshine, and did not evenquarrel or tell yarns among themselves; it was quiet and warm andsleepy. I dozed lazily, dropped my book in my lap, struggled once, andthen fairly fell asleep. 

I was roused by Kiramat Ali pulling at my foot, as natives will whenthey are afraid of the consequences of waking their master. When Iopened my eyes he presented a card on a salver, and explained that thegentleman wanted to see me. I looked, and was rather surprised to see itwas Kildare's card. "Lord Steepleton Kildare, 33d Lancers "--there wasno word in pencil, or any message. I told Kiramat to show the sahib in, wondering why he should call on me. By Indian etiquette, if there was tobe any calling, it was my duty to make the first visit. Before I hadtime to think more I heard the clanking of spurs and sabre on theverandah, and the young man walked in, clad in the full uniform of hisregiment. I rose to greet him, and was struck by his soldierly bearingand straight figure, as I had been at our first meeting. He took off hisbearskin --for he was in the fullest of full dress--and sat down. 

"I am so glad to find you at home, " he said: "I feared you might havegone to church, like everybody else in this place. "

"No. I went early this morning. I belong to a different persuasion. Isuppose you are on your way to Peterhof?"

"Yes. There is some sort of official reception to somebody, --I forgetwho, --and we had notice to turn out. It is a detestable nuisance. "

"I should think so. "

"Mr. Griggs, I came to ask you about something. You heard of my proposalto get up a tiger-hunt? Mr. Ghyrkins was speaking of it. "

"Yes. He wanted us to go, --Mr. Isaacs and me, --and suggested leaving hisniece, Miss Westonhaugh, with Lady Smith-Tompkins. "

"It would be so dull without a lady in the party. Nothing but tigers andshikarries and other native abominations to talk to. Do you not thinkso?"

"Why, yes. I told Mr. Ghyrkins that all the little Smith-Tompkinschildren had the measles, and the house was not safe. If they have nothad them, they will, I have no doubt. Heaven is just, and will not leaveyou to the conversational mercies of the entertaining tiger and theengaging shikarry. "

"By Jove, Mr. Griggs, that was a brilliant idea: and, as you say, theymay all get the measles yet. The fact is, I have set my heart on thisthing. Miss Westonhaugh said she had never seen a tiger, except in cagesand that kind of thing, and so I made up my mind she should. Besides, itwill be no end of a lark; just when nobody is thinking about tigers, yougo off and kill a tremendous fellow, fifteen or sixteen feet long, andcome back covered with glory and mosquito bites, and tell everybody thatMiss Westonhaugh shot him herself with a pocket pistol. That will beglorious!"

"I should like it very much too; and I really see no reason why itshould not be done. Mr. Ghyrkins seemed in a very cheerful humour abouttigers last night, and I have no doubt a little persuasion from you willbring him to a proper view of his obligations to Miss Westonhaugh. " Helooked pleased and bright and hopeful, thoroughly enthusiastic, asbecame his Irish blood. He evidently intended to have quite as "good" a"time" as Isaacs proposed to enjoy. I thought the spectacle of thoserivals for the beautiful girl's favour would be extremely interesting. Lord Steepleton was doubtless a good shot and a brave man, and wouldrisk anything to secure Miss Westonhaugh's approval; Isaacs, on theother hand, was the sort of man who is very much the same in danger asanywhere else. 

"That is what I came to ask you about. We shall all meet there at dinnerthis evening, and I wanted to secure as many allies as possible. "

"You may count on me, Lord Steepleton, at all events. There is nothing Ishould enjoy better than such a fortnight's holiday, in such goodcompany. "

"All right, " said Lord Steepleton, rising, "I must be off now toPeterhof. It is an organised movement on Mr. Ghyrkins this evening, then. Is it understood?" He took his bearskin from the table, andprepared to go, pulling his straps and belts into place, and dusting aparticle of ash from his sleeve. 

"Perfectly, " I answered. "We will drag him forth into the arena beforethree days are past. " We shook hands, and he went out. 

I was glad he had come, though I had been waked from a pleasant nap toreeeive him. He was so perfectly gay, and natural, and healthy, that onecould not help liking him. You felt at once that he was honest and woulddo the right thing in spite of any one, according to his light; that hewould stand by a friend in danger, and face any odds in fight, with asmuch honest determination to play fair and win, as he would bring to acricket match or a steeple-chase. His Irish blood gave him a somewhatless formal manner than belongs to the Englishman; more enthusiasm andless regard for "form, " while his good heart and natural courtesy wouldlead him right in the long-run. He seemed all sunshine, with his brightblue eyes and great fair moustache and brown face; the closely fittinguniform showed off his erect figure and; elastic gait, and the wholeimpression was fresh and exhilarating in the extreme. I was sorry he hadgone. I would have liked to talk with him about boating and fishing andshooting; about athletics and horses and tandem-driving, and many thingsI used, to like years ago at college, before I began my wandering life;I watched him as he swung himself: into the military saddle, and hethrew up his hand in a parting salute as he rode away. Poor fellow! washe, too, going to be food for powder and Afghan knives in the avengingarmy on its way to Kabul? I went back to my books and remained readinguntil the afternoon sun slanted in through the open door, and fallingacross my book warned me it was time to keep my appointment with Isaacs. 

As we passed the church the people were coming out from the eveningservice, and I saw Kildare, once more in the garb of a civilian, standing near the door, apparently watching for some one to appear. Iknew that, with his strict observance of Catholic rules--often dependingmore on pride of family than on religious conviction, in the house ofKildare--he would not have entered the English Church at such a time, and I was sure he was lying in wait for Miss Westonhaugh, probablyintending to surprise her and join her on her homeward ride. The roadwinds down below the Church, so that for some minutes after passing thebuilding you may get a glimpse of the mall above and of the people uponit--or at least of their heads--if they are moving near the edge of thepath. I was unaccountably curious this evening, and I dropped a littlebehind Isaacs, craning my neck and turning back in the saddle as Iwatched the stream of heads and shoulders, strongly foreshortenedagainst the blue sky above, moving ceaselessly along the parapet over myhead. Before long I was rewarded; Miss Westonhaugh's fair hair and broadhat entered the field of my vision, and a moment later Lord Steepleton, who must have pushed through the crowd from the other side, appearedstruggling after her. She turned quickly, and I saw no more, but I didnot think she had changed colour. 

I began to be deeply interested in ascertaining whether she had anypreference for one or the other of the two young men. Kildare's visit inthe morning--though he had said very little--had given me a newimpression of the man, and I felt that he was no contemptible rival. Isaw from the little incident I had just witnessed that he neglected noopportunity of being with Miss Westonhaugh, and that he had the patienceto wait and the boldness to find her in a crowd. I had seen very littleof her myself; but I had been amply satisfied that Isaacs was capable ofinteresting her in a _tête-à-tête_ conversation. "The talker has thebest chance, if he is bold enough, " I said to myself; but I was notsatisfied, and I resolved that if I could manage it Isaacs should haveanother chance that very evening after the dinner. Meanwhile I wouldinvolve Isaacs in a conversation on some one of those subjects thatseemed to interest him most. He had not seen the couple on the mall, andwas carelessly ambling along with his head in the air and one hand inthe pocket of his short coat, the picture of unconcern. 

I was trying to make up my mind whether I would open fire upon theimmortality of the soul, matrimony, or the differential calculus, when, as we passed from the narrow street into the road leading sound Jako, Isaacs spoke. 

"Look here, Griggs, " said he, "there is something I want to impress uponyour mind. "

"Well, what is it?"

"It is all very well for Ram Lal to give advice about things heunderstands. I have a very sincere regard for him, but I do not believehe was ever in my position. I have set my heart on this tiger-hunt. MissWestonhaugh said the other day that she had never seen a tiger, and Ithen and there made up my mind that she should. "

I laughed. There seemed to be no essential difference of opinion betweenthe Irishman and the Persian in regard to the pleasures of the chase. Miss Westonhaugh was evidently anxious to see tigers, and meant to doit, since she had expressed her wish to the two men most likely toprocure her that innocent recreation. Lord Steepleton Kildare by hisposition, and Isaacs by his wealth, could, if they chose, get up such atiger-hunt for her benefit as had never been seen. I thought she mighthave waited till the spring--but I had learned that she intended toreturn to England in April, and was to spend the early months of theyear with her brother in Bombay. 

"You want to see Miss Westonhaugh, and Miss Westonhaugh wants to seetigers! My dear fellow, go in and win; I will back you. "

"Why do you laugh, Griggs?" asked Isaacs, who saw nothing particularlyamusing in what he had said. 

"Oh, I laughed because another young gentleman expressed the sameopinions to me, in identically the same words, this morning. "

"Mr. Westonhaugh?"

"No. You know very well that Mr. Westonhaugh cares nothing about it, oneway or the other. The little plan for 'amusing brother John' is a hoax. The thing cannot be done. You might as well try to amuse an undertakeras to make a man from Bombay laugh. The hollowness of life is ever uponthem. No. It was Kildare; he called and said that Miss Westonhaugh hadnever seen a tiger, and he seemed anxious to impress upon me hisdetermination that she should. Pshaw! what does Kildare care aboutbrother John?"

"Brother John, as you call him, is a better fellow than he looks. I owea great deal to brother John. " Isaacs' olive skin flushed a little, andhe emphasised the epithet by which I had designated Mr. John Westonhaughas if he were offended by it. 

"I mean nothing against Mr. Westonhaugh, " said I half apologetically. "Iremember when you met yesterday afternoon you said you had seen him inBombay a long time ago. "

"Do you remember the story I told you of myself the other night?"

"Perfectly. "

"Westonhaugh was the young civil servant who paid my fine and gave me arupee, when I was a ragged sailor from a Mocha craft, and could notspeak a word of English. To that rupee I ultimately owe my entirefortune. I never forget a face, and I am sure it is he--do youunderstand me now? I owe to his kindness everything I possess in theworld. "

"The unpardonable sin is ingratitude, " I answered, "of which you willcertainly not be accused. That is a very curious coincidence. "

"I think it is something more. A man has always at least one opportunityof repaying a debt, and, besm Illah! I will repay what I can of it. Bythe beard of the apostle, whose name is blessed, I am not ungrateful!"Isaacs was excited as he said this. He was no longer the calm Mr. Isaacs, he was Abdul Hafiz the Persian, fiery and enthusiastic. 

"You say well, my friend, " he continued earnestly, "that theunpardonable sin is ingratitude. Doubtless, had the blessed prophet ofAllah lived in our day, he would have spoken of the doom that hangs overthe ungrateful. It is the curse of this age; for he who forgets orrefuses to remember the kindness done to him by others sets himselfapart, and worships his miserable self, and he makes an idol of himself, saying, 'I am of more importance than my fellows in the world, and it ismeet and right that they should give and that I should receive. 'Ingratitude is selfishness, and selfishness is the worship of oneself, the setting of oneself higher than man and goodness and God. And whenman perishes and the angel Al Sijil, the recorder, rolls up his scroll, what is written therein is written; and Israfil shall call men tojudgment, and the scrolls shall be unfolded, and he that has taken ofothers and not given in return, but has ungratefully forgotten and putaway the remembrance of the kindness received, shall be counted amongthe unbelievers and the extortioners and the unjust, and shall broil inraging flames. By the hairs of the prophet's beard, whose name isblessed. "

I had not seen Isaacs so thoroughly roused before upon any subject. Theflush had left his face and given place to a perfect paleness, and hiseyes shone like coals of fire as he looked upward in pronouncing thelast words. I said to myself that there was a strong element ofreligious exaltation in all Asiatics, and put his excitement down tothis cause. His religion was a very beautiful and real thing to him, ever present in his life, and I mused on the future of the man, with hisgreat endowments, his exquisite sensitiveness, and his high view of hisobligations to his fellows. I am not a worshipper of heroes, but I feltthat, for the first time in my life, I was intimate with a man who wasready to stand in the breach and to die for what he thought and believedto be right. After a pause of some minutes, during which we had riddenbeyond the last straggling bungalows of the town, he spoke again, quietly, his temporary excitement having subsided. 

"I feel very strongly about these things, " he said, and then stoppedshort. 

"I can see you do, and I honour you for it. I think you are the firstgrateful person I have ever met; a rare and unique bird in the earth. "

"Do not say that. "

"I do say it. There is very little of the philosophy of the nineteenthcentury about you, Isaacs. Your belief in the obligations of gratitudeand in the general capacity of the human race for redemption, savourslittle of 'transcendental analysis. '"

"You have too much of it, " he answered seriously. "I do not think yousee how much your cynicism involves. You would very likely, if you arethe man I take you for, be very much offended if I accused you of notbelieving any particular dogma of your religion. And yet, with all yourfaith, you do not believe in God. "

"I cannot see how you get at that conclusion, " I replied. "I must denyyour hypothesis, at the risk of engaging you in an argument. " I couldnot see what he was driving at. 

"How can you believe in God, and yet condemn the noblest of His works asaltogether bad? You are not consistent. "

"What makes you think I am so cynical?" I inquired, harking back to gaintime. 

"A little cloud, a little sultriness in the air, is all that betrays thecoming _khemsin_, that by and by shall overwhelm and destroy man andbeast in its sandy darkness. You have made one or two remarks latelythat show little faith in human nature, and if you do not believe inhuman nature what is there left for you to believe in? You said a momentago that I was the first grateful person you had ever met. Then the restof humanity are all selfish, and worshippers of themselves, andaltogether vile, since you yourself say, as I do, that ingratitude isthe unpardonable sin; and God has made a world full of unpardonablesinners, and unless you include yourself in the exception you graciouslymake in my favour, no one but I shall be saved. And yet you say alsowith me that God is good. Do you deny that you are utterlyinconsistent?"

"I may make you some concession in a few minutes, but I am not going toyield to such logic. You have committed the fallacy of the undistributedmiddle term, if you care to know the proper name for it. I did not saythat all men, saving you, were ungrateful. I said that, saving you, thepersons I have met in my life have been ungrateful. You ought todistinguish. "

"All I can say is, then, that you have had a very unfortunate experienceof life, " retorted Isaacs warmly. 

"I have, " said I, "but since you yield the technical point of logic, Iwill confess that I made the assertion hastily and overshot the mark. Ido not remember, however, to have met any one who felt so strongly onthe point as you do. "

"Now you speak like a rational being, " said Isaacs, quite pacified. "Extraordinary feelings are the result of unusual circumstances. I wasin such distress as rarely falls to the lot of an innocent man of finetemperament and good abilities. I am now in a position of such wealthand prosperity as still more seldom are given to a man of my age andantecedents. I remember that I obtained the first step on my road tofortune through the kindness of John Westonhaugh, though I could neverlearn his name, and I met him at last, as you saw, by an accident. Icall that accident a favour, and an opportunity bestowed on me by Allah, and the meeting has roused in me those feelings of thankfulness which, for want of an object upon which to show them, have been put away out ofsight as a thing sacred for many years. I am willing you should saythat, were my present fortune less, my gratitude would beproportionately less felt--it is very likely--though the original giftremain the same, one rupee and no more. You are entitled to think of anyman as grateful in proportion to the gift, so long as you allow thegratitude at all. " He made this speech in a perfectly natural andunconcerned way, as if he were contemplating the case of another person. 

"Seriously, Isaacs, I would not do so for the world. I believe you wereas grateful twelve years ago, when you were poor, as you are now thatyou are rich. " Isaacs was silent, but a look of great gentleness crossedhis face. There was at times something almost angelic in the perfectkindness of his eyes. 

"To return, " I said at last, "to the subject from which we started, thetigers. If we are really going, we must leave here the day afterto-morrow morning--indeed, why not to-morrow?"

"No; to-morrow we are to play that game of polo, which I am lookingforward to with pleasure. Besides, it will take the men three days toget the elephants together, and I only telegraphed this morning to thecollector of the district to make the arrangements. "

"So you have already taken steps? Does Kildare know you have sentorders?"

"Certainly. He came to me this morning at daybreak, and we determined toarrange everything and take uncle Ghyrkins for granted. You need notlook astonished; Kildare and I are allies, and very good friends. " Whata true Oriental! How wise and far-sighted was the Persian, how bold andreckless the Irishman! It was odd, I thought, that Kildare had notmentioned the interview with Isaacs. Yet there was a certain roughdelicacy--contradictory and impulsive--in his silence about thiscoalition with his rival. We rode along and discussed the plans for theexpedition. All the men in the party, except Lord Steepleton, who hadnot been long in India, had killed tigers before. There would be enoughof us, without asking any one else to join. The collector to whom Isaacshad telegraphed was an old acquaintance of his, and would probably goout for a few days with us. It all seemed easy enough and plain sailing. In the course of time we returned to our hotel, dressed, and made ourway through the winding roads to Mr. Currie Ghyrkins' bungalow. 

We were met on the verandah by the old commissioner, who welcomed uswarmly and praised our punctuality, for the clock was striking seven inthe drawing-room, as we divested ourselves of our light top-coats. Inthe vestibule, Miss Westonhaugh and her brother came forward to greetus. 

"John, " said the young lady, "you know I told you there was some onehere whom you got out of trouble ever so many years ago in Bombay. Herehe is. This is a new introduction. Mr. John Westonhaugh, Mr. AbdulHafiz-ben-Isâk, commonly known to his friends as Mr. Isaacs. " Her facebeamed with pleasure, and I thought with pride, as she led her brotherto Isaacs, and her eyes rested long on the Persian with a look that, tome, argued something more than a mere interest. The two men claspedhands and stood for some seconds looking at each other in silence, butwith very different expressions. Westonhaugh wore a look of utteramazement, though he certainly seemed pleased. The good heart that hadprompted the good action twelve years before was still in the rightplace, above any petty considerations about nationality. Hisastonishment gradually changed to a smile of real greeting and pleasure, as he began to shake the hand he still held. I thought that even thefaintest tinge of blood coloured his pale cheek. 

"God bless my soul, " said he, "I remember you perfectly well now. But itis so unexpected; my sister reminded me of the story, which I had notforgotten, and now I look at you I remember you perfectly. I am soglad. "

As Isaacs answered, his voice trembled, and his face was very pale. There was a moisture in the brilliant eyes that told of genuine emotion. 

"Mr. Westonhaugh, I consider that I owe to you everything I have in theworld. This is a greater pleasure than I thought was in store for me. Indeed I thank you again. "

His voice would not serve him. He stopped short and turned away to lookfor something in his coat. 

"Indeed, " said Westonhaugh, "it was a very little thing I did for you. "And presently the two men went together into the drawing-room, Wostonhaugh asking all manner of questions, which Isaacs, who washimself again, began to answer. The rest of us remained in the vestibuleto meet Lord Steepleton, who at that moment came up the steps. Therewere more greetings, and then the head _khitmatgar_ appeared andinformed the "_Sahib log_, protectors of the poor, that their meat wasready. " So we filed into the dining-room. 

Isaacs was placed at Miss Westonhaugh's right, and her brother sat onhis other side. Ghyrkins was opposite his niece at the other end, andKildare and I were together, facing Westonhaugh and Isaacs, a party ofsix. Of course Kildare sat beside the lady. 

The dinner opened very pleasantly. _I_ could see that Isaacs'undisguised gratitude and delight in having at last met the man who hadhelped him had strongly predisposed John Westonhaugh in his favour. Whois it that is not pleased at finding that some deed of kindness, donelong ago with hardly a thought, has borne fruit and been remembered andtreasured up by the receiver as the turning-point in his life? Is thereany pleasure greater than that we enjoy through the happiness ofothers--in those rare cases where kindness is not misplaced? I had hadtime to reflect that Isaacs had most likely told a part of his story toMiss Westonhaugh on the previous afternoon as soon as he had recognisedher brother. He might have told her before; I did not know how long hehad known her, but it must have been some time. Presently she turned tohim. 

"Mr. Isaacs, " said she, "some of us know something of your history. Whywill you not tell us the rest now? My uncle has heard nothing of it, andI know Lord Steepleton is fond of novels. "

Isaacs hesitated long, but as every one pressed him in turn, he yieldedat last. And he told it well. It was exactly the narrative he had givenme, in every detail of fact, but the whole effect was different. I sawhow true a mastery he had of the English language, for he knew hisaudience thoroughly, and by a little colour here and an alteredexpression there he made it graphic and striking, not without humour, and altogether free of a certain mystical tinge he had imparted to itwhen we were alone. He talked easily, with no more constraint than onother occasions, and his narrative was a small social success. I had notseen him in evening dress before, and I could not help thinking how muchmore thoroughly he looked the polished man of the world than the othermen. Kildare never appeared to greater advantage than in the uniform andtrappings of his profession. In a black coat and a white tie he lookedlike any other handsome young Englishman, utterly without individuality. But Isaacs, with his pale complexion and delicate high-bred features, bore himself like a noble of the old school. Westonhaugh beside himlooked washed-out and deathly, Kildare was too coarsely healthy, andGhyrkins and I, representing different types of extreme plainness, served as foils to all three. 

I watched Miss Westonhaugh while Isaacs was speaking. She had evidentlyheard the whole story, for her expression showed beforehand the emotionshe expected to feel at each point. Her colour came and went softly, andher eyes brightened with a warm light beneath the dark brows thatcontrasted so strangely yet delightfully with the mass of flaxen-whitehair. She wore something dark and soft, cut square at the neck, and aplain circlet of gold was her only ornament. She was a beautifulcreature, certainly; one of those striking-looking women of whomsomething is always expected, until they drop quietly out of youth intomiddle age, and the world finds out that they are, after all, notheroines of romance, but merely plain, honest, good women; good wivesand good mothers who love their homes and husbands well, though it haspleased nature in some strange freak to give them the form and featureof a Semiramis, a Cleopatra, or a Jeanne d'Arc. 

"Dear me, how very interesting!" exclaimed Mr. Ghyrkins, looking up fromhis hill mutton as Isaacs finished, and a little murmur of sympatheticapplause went round the table. 

"I would give a great deal to have been through all that, " said LordSteepleton, slowly proceeding to sip a glass of claret. 

"Just think!" ejaculated John Westonhaugh. "And I was entertaining sucha Sinbad unawares!" and he took another green pepper from the dish hisservant handed him. 

"Upon my word, Isaacs, " I said, "some one ought to make a novel of thatstory; it would sell like wildfire. "

"Why don't you do it yourself, Griggs?" he asked. "You are a pressman, and I am sure you are welcome to the whole thing. "

"I will, " I answered. 

"Oh do, Mr. Griggs, " said the young lady, "and make it wind up with atiger-hunt. You could lay the scene in Australia or the Barbadoes, orsome of those places, and put us all in--and kill us all off, if youlike, you know. It would be such fun. " Poor Miss Westonhaugh!

"It is easy to see what you are thinking about most, Miss Westonhaugh, "said Lord Steepleton: "the tigers are uppermost in your mind; andtherefore in mine also, " he added gallantly. 

"Indeed, no--I was thinking about Mr. Isaacs. " She blushed scarlet--thefirst time I had ever seen her really embarrassed. It was very naturalthat she should be thinking of Isaacs and the strange adventures he hadjust recounted; and if she had not cared about him she would not havechanged colour. So I thought, at all events. 

"My dear, drink some water immediately, this curry is very hot--deucedhot, in fact, " said Mr. Ghyrkins, in perfectly good faith. 

John Westonhaugh, who was busy breaking up biscuits and green peppersand "Bombay ducks" into his curry, looked up slowly at his sister andsmiled. 

"Why, you are quite a griffin, Katharine, " said he, "how they will laughat you in Bombay!" I was amused; of course the remarks of her uncle andbrother did not make the blush subside--on the contrary. Kildare wasdrinking more claret, to conceal his annoyance. Isaacs had a curiousexpression. There was a short silence, and for one instant he turned hiseyes to Miss Westonhaugh. It was only a look, but it betrayed to me--whoknew what he felt--infinite surprise, joy, and sympathy. His quickunderstanding had comprehended that he had scored his first victory overhis rival. 

As her eyes met those of Isaacs, the colour left her cheeks as suddenlyas it had come, leaving her face dead white. She drank a little water, and presently seemed at ease again. I was beginning to think she caredfor him seriously. 

"And pray, John, " she asked, "what may a griffin be? It is not a verypretty name to call a young lady, is it?"

"Why, a griffin, " put in Mr. Ghyrkins, "is the 'Mr. Verdant Green' ofthe Civil Service. A young civilian--or anybody else--who is just outfrom home is called a griffin. John calls you a griffin because youdon't understand eating pepper. You don't find it as _chilly_ as hedoes! Ha! ha! ha!" and the old fellow laughed heartily, till he was redin the face, at his bleared old pun. Of course every one was amused orprofessed to be, for it was a diversion welcomed by the three men of uswho had seen the young girl's embarrassment. 

"A griffin, " said I, "is a thing of joy. Mr. Westonhaugh was a griffinwhen he gave Mr. Isaacs that historical rupee. " I cast my littlebombshell into the conversation, and placidly went on manipulating myrice. 

Isaacs was in too gay a humour to be offended, and he only said, turningto Miss Westonhaugh--

"Mr. Griggs is a cynyic, you know. You must not believe anything hesays. "

"If doing kind things makes one a griffin, I hope I may be one always, "said Miss Westonhaugh quickly, "and I trust my brother is as much agriffin as ever. "

"I am, I assure you, " said he. "But Mr. Griggs is quite right, and showsa profound knowledge of Indian life. No one but a griffin of thegreenest ever gave anybody a rupee in Bombay--or ever will now, I shouldthink. "

"Oh, John, are you going to be cynical too?"

"No, Katharine, I am not cynical at all. I do not think you are quitesure what a 'cynic' is. "

"Oh yes, I know quite well. Diogenes was a cynic, and Saint Jerome, andother people of that class. "

"A man who lives in a tub, and abuses Alexander the Great, and that sortof thing, " remarked Kildare, who had not spoken for some time. 

"Mr. Griggs, " said John Westonhaugh, "since you are the accused, praydefine what you mean by a cynic, and then Mr. Isaacs, as the accuser, can have a chance too. "

"Very well, I will. A man is a cynic if he will do no good to any onebecause he believes every one past improvement. Most men who do goodactions are also cynics, because they well know that they are doing moreharm than good by their charity. Mr. Westonhaugh has the discriminationto appreciate this, and therefore he is not a cynic. "

"It is well you introduced the saving clause, Griggs, " said Isaacs to mefrom across the table. "I am going to define you now; for I stronglysuspect that you are the very ideal of a philosopher of that class. Youare a man who believes in all that is good and beautiful in theory, butby too much indifference to good in small measures--for you want a thingperfect, or you want it not at all---you have abstracted yourself fromperceiving it anywhere, except in the most brilliant examples of heroismthat history affords. You set up in your imagination an ideal which youcall the good man, and you are utterly dissatisfied with anything lessperfect than perfection. The result is that, though you might do a goodaction from your philosophical longing to approach the ideal in your ownperson, you will not suffer yourself to believe that others areconsciously or unconsciously striving to make themselves better also. And you do not believe that any one can be made a better man by any oneelse, by any exterior agency, by any good that you or others may do tohim. What makes you what you are is the fact that you really cherishthis beautiful ideal image of your worship and reverence, and love it;but for this, you would be the most insufferable man of my acquaintance, instead of being the most agreeable. "

Isaacs was gifted with a marvellous frankness of speech. He always saidwhat he meant, with a supreme indifference to consequences; but he saidit with such perfect honesty and evident appreciation of what was good, even when he most vehemently condemned what he did not like, that it wasimpossible to be annoyed. Every one laughed at his attack on me, andhaving satisfied my desire to observe Miss Westonhaugh, which hadprompted my first remark about griffins, I thought it was time to turnthe conversation to the projected hunt. 

"My dear fellow, " I said, "I think that in spite of your Parthian shaft, your definition of a cynic is as complimentary to the school at large asto me in particular. Meanwhile, however, " I added, turning to Mr. Ghyrkins, "I am inclined to believe with Lord Steepleton that thesubject uppermost in the thoughts of most of us is the crusade againstthe tigers. What do you say? Shall we not all go as we are, a neat partyof six?"

"Well, well, Mr. Griggs, we shall see, you know. Now, if we are going atall, when do you mean to start?"

"The sooner the better of course, " broke in Kildare, and he launchedinto a host of reasons for going immediately, including the wildeststatistics about the habits of tigers in winter. This was quite natural, however, as he was a thorough Irishman and had never seen a tiger in hislife. Mr. Currie Ghyrkins vainly attempted to stem the torrent of hiseloquence, but at last pinned him on some erratic statement about tigersmoulting later in the year and their skins not being worth taking. Kildare would have asserted with equal equanimity that all tigers shedtheir teeth and their tails in December; he was evidently trying torouse Mr. Ghyrkins into a discussion on the subject of tiger shooting ingeneral, a purpose very easily accomplished. The old gentleman was soongoaded to madness by Kildare's wonderful opinions, and before long hevowed that the youngster had never seen a tiger, --not one in his wholelife, sir, --and that it was high time he did, high time indeed, and heswore he should see one before he was a week older. Yes, sir, before hewas a week older, "if I have to carry you among 'em like a baby in arms, sir, by gad, sir--I should think so!"

This was all we wanted, and in another ten minutes we were drinking abumper to the health of the whole tiger-hunt and of Miss Westonhaugh inparticular. Isaacs joined with the rest, and though he only drank somesherbet, as I watched his bright eyes and pale cheek, I thought thatnever knight drank truer toast to his lady. Miss Westonhaugh rose andwent out, leaving us to smoke for a while. The conversation was general, and turned on the chase, of course. In a few minutes Isaacs dropped hiscigarette and went quietly out. I determined to detain the rest as longas possible, and I seconded Mr. Ghyrkins in passing the claret brisklyround, telling all manner of stories of all nations and peoples--ancienttales that would not amuse a schoolboy in America, but which were arevelation of profound wit and brilliant humour to the unsophisticatedBritish mind. By immense efforts--and I hate to exert myself inconversation--I succeeded in prolonging the session through a cigar anda half, but at last I was forced to submit to a move; and with asomewhat ancient remark from Mr. Ghyrkins, to the effect that all goodthings must come to an end, we returned to the drawing-room. 

Isaacs and Miss Westonhaugh were looking over some English photographs, and she was enthusiastically praising the beauties of Gothicarchitecture, while Isaacs was making the most of his opportunity, andtaking a good look at her as she bent over the album. After we came in, she made a little music at the tuneless piano--there never was a pianoin India yet that had any tune in it--playing and singing a little, veryprettily. She sang something about a body in the rye, and then somethingelse about drinking only with the eyes, to which her brother sang a sortof second very nicely. I do not understand much about music, but Ithought the allusion to Isaacs' temperance in only drinking with hiseyes was rather pointed. He said, however, that he liked it even betterwith a second than when she sang it alone, so I argued that it was notthe first time he had heard it. 

"Mr. Isaacs, " said she, "you have often promised to sing somethingPersian for us. Will you not keep your word now?"

"When we are among the tigers, Miss Westonhaugh, next week. Then I willtry and borrow a lute and sing you something. "

It was late for an Indian dinner-party, so we took our departure soonafterwards, having agreed to meet the following afternoon at Annandalefor the game of polo, in which Westonhaugh said he would also play. Heand Isaacs made some appointment for the morning; they seemed to be verysympathetic to each other. Kildare mounted and rode homeward with us, though he had much farther to go than we. If he felt any annoyance atthe small successes Isaacs had achieved during the evening, he was fartoo courteous a gentleman to show it; and so, as we groped our waythrough the trees by the starlight, chiefly occupied in keeping ourhorses on their legs, the snatches of conversation that were possiblewere pleasant, if not animated, and there was a cordial "Good-night" onboth sides, as we left Kildare to pursue his way alone. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER VIII. 

It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon when Isaacs and I emergedfrom the narrow road upon the polo ground. We were clad in thetight-fitting garments which are necessary for the game, and wrapped inlight top-coats; as we came out on the green we saw a number of othermen in similar costume standing about, and a great many native groomsleading ponies up and down. Miss Westonhaugh was there in her gray habitand broad hat, and by her side, on foot, Lord Steepleton Kildare wasmaking the most of his time, as he waited for the rest of the players. Mr. Currie Ghyrkins was ambling about on his broad little horse, andJohn Westonhaugh stood with his hands in his pockets and a largeTrichinopoli cheroot between his lips, apparently gazing into space. Several other men, more or less known to us and to each other, movedabout or chatted disconnectedly, and one or two arrived after us. Someof them wore coloured jerseys that showed brightly over the open collarsof their coats, others were in ordinary dress and had come to see thegame. Farther off, at one side of the ground, one or two groups ofladies and their escorting cavaliers haunted at a short distance bytheir saices in many-coloured turbans and belts, or _cummer-bunds, _ asthe sash is called in India, moved slowly about, glancing from time totime towards the place where the players and their ponies were preparingfor the contest. 

Few games require so little preparation and so few preliminaries aspolo, descended as it is from an age when more was thought of goodhorsemanship and quick eye than of any little refinements depending onan accurate knowledge of fixed rules. Any one who is a firstrate riderand is quick with his hands can learn to play polo. The stiffest of armscan be limbered and the most recalcitrant wrist taught to turn nimbly inits socket; but the essential condition is, that the player should knowhow to ride. This being established, there is no reason why anybody wholikes should not play the game, if he will only use a cetrain amount ofcaution, and avoid braining the other players and injuring the ponies bytoo wild a use of his mallet. Presently it was found that all who wereto play had arrived--eight of us all told. Kildare had arranged thesides and had brought the other men necessary to make the numbercomplete, so we mounted and took up our positions on the ground. Kildareand Isaacs were together, and Westonhaugh and I on the other side, withtwo men I knew slightly. We won the charge, and Westonhaugh, who was acelebrated player, struck the ball off cleverly, and I followed him upwith a rush as he raced after it. Isaacs, on the other side, swept alongeasily, and as the ball swerved on striking the ground bent far overtill he looked as though he were out of the saddle and stopped itcleverly, while Kildare, who was close behind, got a good stroke in justin time, as Westonhaugh and I galloped down on him, and landed the ballfar to the rear near our goal. As we wheeled quickly, I saw that one ofthe other two men on our side had stopped it and was beginning to"dribble" it along. This was very bad play, both Westonhaugh and I beingso far forward, and it met its reward. Isaacs and Kildare raced down onhim, but the latter soon pulled up on finding himself passed, andwaited. Isaacs rushed upon the temporising player and got the ball awayfrom him in no time; eluded the other man, and with a neat stroke sentthe ball right between the poles. The game had hardly lasted threeminutes, and a little sound of clapping was heard from where thespectators were standing, far off on one side. I could see MissWestonhaugh plainly, as she cantered with her uncle to where the victorswere standing together on the other side, patting their ponies andadjusting stirrup and saddle. Isaacs had his back turned, but wheeledround as he heard the sound of hoofs behind him and bowed low in hissaddle to the fair girl, whose face, I could see even at that distance, was flushed with pleasure. They remained a few minutes in conversation, and then the two spectators rode away, and we took up our positions oncemore. 

The next game was a much longer one. It was the turn of the other partyto hit off, for Kildare won the charge. There were encounters of allkinds; twice the ball was sent over the line, but outside the goal, bylong sweeping blows from Isaacs, who ever hovered on the edge of thescrimmage, and, by his good riding, and the help of a splendid pony, often had a chance where another would have had none. At last ithappened that I was chasing the ball back towards our goal, from one ofhis hits, and he was pursuing me. I had the advantage of a long start, and before he could reach me I got in a heavy "backhander" that sent theball far away to one side, where, as good luck would have it, Westonhaugh was waiting. Quick as thought he carried it along, and inanother minute we had scored a goal, amidst enthusiastic shouts from thespectators, who had been kept long in suspense by the protracted game. This time it was to our side that the young girl came, riding up to herbrother to congratulate him on his success. I thought she had lesscolour as she came nearer, and though she smiled sweetly as she said, "It was splendidly played, John, " there was not so much enthusiasm inher voice as the said John, who had really won the game with masterlyneatness, might have expected. Then she sat quietly looking over theground, while we dismounted from our ponies, breathless, and foaming, and lathery, from the hard-fought battle. The grooms ran up withblankets and handfuls of grass to give the poor beasts a rub, andcovering them carefully after removing the saddles, led them away. 

The sun leaves Annandale early, and I put on a coat and lit a cigarette, while the saice saddled our second mounts. There are few prettier sightsthan an English game, of any kind, on a beautiful stretch of turf. TheEnglish live, and move and have their being out of doors. Acricket-match, tennis, a racecourse, or a game of polo, show them attheir greatest advantage, whether as players or spectators. Their freshcomplexions suit the green of the grass and of the trees as naturally asa bed of roses, or cyclamens, or any fresh and healthy flower willcombine with the grass and the ferns in garden or glen. The gloriousvitality that belongs to their race seems to blossom freshly in thecontact with their mother earth, and the physical capacity for motionwith which nature endows them makes them graceful and fascinating towatch, when in some free and untrammelled dress of white they are attheir games, batting and bowling and galloping and running; they havethe same natural grace then as a herd of deer or antelopes; they arebeautiful animals in the full enjoyment of life and vigour, of healthand strength; they are intensely alive. Something of this kind passedthrough my mind, in all probability, and, combined with the delightfulsensation any strong man feels in the pause after great exertion, disposed me well towards my fellows and towards mankind at large. Besides we had won the last game. 

"You look pleased, Mr. Griggs, " said Miss Westonhaugh, who had probablybeen watching me for a moment or two. "I did not know cynics were everpleased. "

"I remember who it was that promised to crown the victors of this match, Miss Westonhaugh, and I cherish some hopes of being one of them. Wouldyou mind very much?"

"Mind? Oh dear no; you had better try. But if you stand there with yourcoat on, you will not have much chance. They are all mounted, andwaiting for you. "

"Well, here goes, " I said to myself, as I got into the saddle again. "Ihope he may win, but he would find me out in a minute if I tried to playinto his hands. " We were only to play the best out of three goals, andthe score was "one all. " All eight of us had fresh mounts, and theexperience of each other's play we had got in the preceding games madeit likely that the game would be a long one. And so it turned out. 

From the first things went badly. John Westonhaugh's fresh pony was verywild, and he had to take him a breather half over the ground before hecould take his place for the charge. When at last the first stroke wasmade, the ball went low along the ground, spinning and twisting to rightand left. Both Kildare and Isaacs missed it and wheeled across toreturn, when a prolonged scrimmage ensued less than thirty yards fromtheir goal. Every one played his best, and we wheeled and spun round ina way that reminded one of a cavalry skirmish. Strokes and back-strokesfollowed quickly, till at last I got the ball as it came rolling outbetween my horse's legs, and, hotly pursued, beyond the possibility ofmaking a fair stroke, I moved away with it in front of me. 

Then began one of those interminable circular games that all poloplayers know so well, round and round the battlefield, riding closetogether, sometimes one succeeding in driving the ball a little, only tobe foiled by the next man's ill-delivered back-stroke; racing, andpulling up short, and racing again, till horses and riders were in aperspiration and a state of madness not to be attained by any peacefulmeans. At last, as we were riding near our own goal, some one, I couldnot see who, struck the ball out into the open. Isaacs, who had justmissed, and was ahead, rode for it like a madman, his club raised highfor a back-stroke. He was hotly pressed by the man who had roused mywrath in the first game by his "dribbling" policy. He was a light weightand had kept his best horse for the last game, so that as Isaacs spunalong at lightning speed the little man was very close to him, his clubwell back for a sweeping hit. He rode well, but was evidently not so olda hand in the game as the rest of us. They neared the ball rapidly andIsaacs swerved a little to the left in order to get it well under hisright hand, thus throwing himself somewhat across the track of hispursuer. As the Persian struck with all his force downwards andbackwards, his adversary, excited by the chase, beyond all judgment orreckoning of his chances, hit out wildly, as beginners will. The longelastic handle of his weapon struck Isaacs' horse on the flank andglanced upward, the head of the club striking Isaacs just above the backof the neck. We saw him throw up his arms, the club in his right handhanging to his wrist by the strap. The infuriated little arab pony toreon, and in a moment more the iron grip of the rider's knees relaxed, Isaacs swayed heavily in the saddle and fell over on the near side, hisleft foot hanging in the stirrup and dragging him along some pacesbefore the horse finally shook himself clear and scampered away acrossthe turf. The whole catastrophe occurred in a moment; the man who haddone the mischief threw away his club to reach the injured player thesooner, and as we thundered after him, my pony stumbled over the longhandle, and falling, threw me heavily over his head. I escaped with avery slight kick from one of the other horses, and leaving my beast totake care of himself, ran as fast as I could to where Isaacs lay, nowsurrounded by the six players as they dismounted to help him. But therewas some one there before them. 

The accident had occurred near the middle of the ground, and oppositethe place where Miss Westonhaugh and her uncle had taken up their standto watch the contest. With a shake of the reins and a blow of the handthat made the thoroughbred bound his length as he plunged into a gallop, the girl rode wildly to where Isaacs lay, and reining the animal back onhis haunches, sprang to the ground and knelt quickly down, so thatbefore the others had reached them she had propped up his head and wasrubbing his hands in hers. There was no mistaking the impulse thatprompted her. She had seen many an accident in the hunting-field, andknew well that when a man fell like that it was ten to one he was badlyhurt. 

Isaacs was ghastly pale, and there was a little blood on MissWestonhaugh's white gauntlet. Her face was whiter even than his, thoughnot a quiver of mouth or eyelash betrayed emotion. The man who had doneit knelt on the other side, rubbing one of the hands. Kildare andWestonhaugh galloped off at full speed, and presently returned bearing abrandy-flask and a smelling-bottle, and followed by a groom with somewater in a native _lota_. I wanted to make him swallow some of theliquor, but Miss Westonhaugh took the flask from my hands. 

"He would not like it. He never drinks it, you know, " she said in aquiet low voice, and pouring some of the contents on her handkerchief, moistened all his brows and face and hair with the powerful alcohol. 

"Loosen his belt! pull off his boots, some of you!" cried Mr. CurrieGhyrkins, as he came up breathless. "Take off his belt--damn it, youknow! Dear, dear!" and he got off his _tat_ with all the alacrity hecould muster. 

Miss Westonhaugh never took her eyes from the face of the prostrateman--pressing the wet handkerchief to his brow, and moistening the palmof the hand she held with brandy. In a few minutes Isaacs breathed along heavy breath, and opened his eyes. 

"What is the matter?" he said; then, recollecting himself and trying tomove his head--"Oh! I have had a tumble. Give me some water to drink. "There was a sigh of relief from every one present as he spoke, quitenaturally, and I held the _lota_ to his lips. "What became of the ball?"he asked quickly, as he sat up. Then turning round, he saw the beautifulgirl kneeling at his side. The blood rushed violently to his face, andhis eyes, a moment ago dim with unconsciousness, flashed brightly. "What! Miss Westonhaugh--you?" he bounded to his feet, but would havefallen back if I had not caught him in my arms, for he was still dizzyfrom the heavy blow that had stunned him. The blood came and went in hischeeks, and he hung on my arm confused and embarrassed, looking on theground. 

"I really owe you all manner of apologies--" he began. 

"Not a bit of it, my dear boy, " broke in Ghyrkins, "my niece was nearestto you when you fell, and so she came up and did the right thing, likethe brave girl she is. " The old fellow helped her to rise as he saidthis, and he looked so pleased and proud of her that I was delightedwith him. "And now, " he went on, "we must see how much you are hurt--thedeuce of a knock, you know, enough to kill you--and if you are not ableto ride, why, we will carry you home, you know; the devil of a way offit is, too, confound it all. " As he jerked out his sentences he wasfeeling the back of Isaacs' head, to ascertain, if he could, how muchharm had been done. All this time the man who had done the mischief wasstanding by, looking very penitent, and muttering sentences of apologyas he tried to perform any little office for his victim that came in hisway. Isaacs stretched out his arm, while Ghyrkins was feeling andtwisting his head, and taking the man's hand, held it a moment. 

"My dear sir, " he said, "I am not in the least hurt, I assure you, andit was my fault for crossing you at such a moment. Please do not thinkanything more about it. " He smiled kindly at the young fellow, whoseemed very grateful, and who from that day on would have riskedeverything in the world for him. I heard behind me the voice of Kildare, soliloquising softly. 

"Faith, " said he, "that fellow is a gentleman if I ever saw one. I amafraid I should not have let that infernal duffer off so easily. By-the-bye, Isaacs, " he said aloud, coming up to us, "you know you wonthe game. Nobody stopped the ball after you hit it, and the saices sayit ran right through the goal. So cheer up; you have got something foryour pains and your tumble. " It was quite true; the phlegmatic saiceshad watched the ball instead of the falling man. Miss Westonhaugh, whowas really a sensible and self-possessed young woman, and had begun tobe sure that the accident would have no serious results, expressed themost unbounded delight. 

"Thank you, Miss Westonhaugh, " said Isaacs; "you have kept your promise;you have crowned the victor. "

"With brandy, " I remarked, folding up a scarf which somebody had givenme wherewith to tie a wet compress to the back of his head. 

"There is nothing the matter, " said Ghyrkins; "no end of a bad bruise, that's all. He will be all right in the morning, and the skin is only alittle broken. "

"Griggs, " said Isaacs, who could now stand quite firm again, "hold thewet handkerchief in place, and give me that scarf. " I did as hedirected, and he took the white woollen shawl, and in half a dozen turnswound it round his head in a turban, deftly and gracefully. It waswonderfully becoming to his Oriental features and dark eyes, and I couldsee that Miss Westonhaugh thought so. There was a murmur of approbationfrom the native grooms who were looking on, and who understood thething. 

"You see I have done it before, " he said, smiling. "And now give me mycoat, and we will be getting home. Oh yes! I can ride quite well. "

"That man has no end of pluck in him, " said John Westonhaugh to Kildare. 

"By Jove! yes, " was the answer. "I have seen men at home make twice thefuss over a tumble in a ploughed field, when they were not even stunned. I would not have thought it. "

"He is not the man to make much fuss about anything of that kind. "

Isaacs stoutly refused any further assistance, and after walking up anddown a few minutes, he said he had got his legs back, and demanded acigarette. He lit it carefully, and mounted as if nothing had happened, and we moved homeward, followed by the spectators, many of whom, ofcourse, were acquaintances, and who had ridden up more or less quicklyto make polite inquiries about the accident. No one disputed with Isaacsthe right to ride beside Miss Westonhaugh on the homeward road. He wasthe victor of the day, and of course was entitled to the best place. Wewere all straggling along, but without any great intervals between us, so that the two were not able to get away as they had done on Saturdayevening, but they talked, and I heard Miss Westonhaugh laugh. Isaacs wasdetermined to show that he appreciated his advantage, and though, forall I know, he might be suffering a good deal of pain, he talked gailyand sat his horse easily, rather a strange figure in his light-colouredEnglish overcoat, surmounted by the large white turban he had made outof the shawl. As we came out on the mall at the top of the hill, Mr. Ghyrkins called a council of war. 

"Of course we shall have to put off the tiger-hunt. "

"I suppose so, " muttered Kildare, disconsolately. 

"Why?" said Isaacs. "Not a bit of it. Head or no head, we will startto-morrow morning. I am well enough, never fear. "

"Nonsense, you know it's nonsense, " said Ghyrkins, "you will be in bedall day with a raging headache. Horrid things, knocks on the back of thehead. "

"Not I. My traps are all packed, and my servants have gone down toKalka, and I am going to-morrow morning. "

"Well, of course, if you really think you can, " etc. Etc. So he wasprevailed upon to promise that if he should be suffering in the morninghe would send word in time to put off the party. "Besides, " he added, "even if I could not go, that is no reason why you should not. "

"Stuff, " said Ghyrkins. 

"Oh!" said Miss Westonhaugh, looking rather blank. 

"That would never do, " said John. 

"Preposterous! we could not think of going without you, " said LordSteepleton Kildare loudly; he was beginning to like Isaacs in spite ofhimself. And so we parted. 

"I shall not dine to-night, Griggs, " said Isaacs, as we paused beforehis door. "Come in for a moment: you can help me. " We entered the richlycarpeted room, and he went to a curious old Japanese cabinet, and afteropening various doors and divisions, showed a small iron safe. This heopened by some means known to himself, for he used no key, and he tookout a small vessel of jade and brought it to the light. "Now, " he said, "be good enough to warm this little jar in your hands while I go intothe next room and get my boots and spurs and things off. But do not openit on any account--not on any account, until I come back, " he added veryemphatically. 

"All right, go ahead, " said I, and began to warm the cold thing thatfelt like a piece of ice between my hands. He returned in a few minutesrobed in loose garments from Kashmir, with the low Eastern slippers hegenerally wore indoors. He sat down among his cushions and leaned back, looking pale and tired; after ordering the lamps to be lit and the doorsclosed, he motioned me to sit down beside him. 

"I have had a bad shaking, " he said, "and my head is a good dealbruised. But I mean to go to-morrow in spite of everything. In thatlittle vial there is a powerful remedy unknown in your Western medicine. Now I want you to apply it, and to follow with the utmost exactness myinstructions. If you fear you should forget what I tell you, write itdown, for a mistake might be fatal to you, and would certainly be fatalto me. "

I took out an old letter and a pencil, not daring to trust my memory. 

"Put the vial in your bosom while you write: it must be near thetemperature of the body. Now listen to me. In that silver box is wax. Tie first this piece of silk over your mouth, and then stop yournostrils carefully with the wax. Then open the vial quickly and pour alittle of the contents into your hand. You must be quick, for it is veryvolatile. Rub that on the back of my head, keeping the vial closed. Whenyour hand is dry, hold the vial open to my nostrils for two minutes byyour watch. By that time, I shall be asleep. Put the vial in this pocketof my _caftán_; open all the doors and windows, and tell my servant toleave them so, but not to admit any one. Then you can leave me; I shallsleep very comfortably. Come back and wake me a little before midnight. You will wake me easily by lifting my head and pressing one of my hands. Remember, if you should forget to wake me, and I should still be asleepat one o'clock, I should never open my eyes again, and should be deadbefore morning. Do as I tell you, for friendship's sake, and when I wakeI shall bathe and sleep naturally the rest of the night. "

I carefully fulfilled his instructions. Before I had finished rubbinghis head he was drowsy, and when I took the vial from his nostrils hewas sound asleep. I placed the precious thing where he had told me, andarranged his limbs on the cushions. Then I opened everything, andleaving the servant in charge went my way to my rooms. On removing thesilk and the wax which had protected me from the powerful drug, anindescribable odour which permeated my clothes ascended to my nostrils;aromatic, yet pungent and penetrating; I never smelt anything that itreminded me of, but I presume the compound contained something of thenature of an opiate. I took some books down to Isaacs' rooms and passedthe evening there, unwilling to leave him to the care of an inquisitiveservant, and five minutes before midnight I awoke him in the manner hehad directed. He seemed to be sleeping lightly, for he was awake in amoment, and his first action was to replace the vial in the curioussafe. He professed himself perfectly restored; and, indeed, on examininghis bruise I found there was no swelling or inflammation. The odour ofthe medicament, which, as he had said, seemed to be very volatile, hadalmost entirely disappeared. He begged me to go to bed, saying that hewould bathe and then do likewise, and I left him for the night;speculating on the nature of this secret and precious remedy. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER IX. 

The Himalayan _tonga_ is a thing of delight. It is easily described, forin principle it is the ancient Persian war-chariot, though theaccommodation is so modified as to allow four persons to sit in it backto back; that is, three besides the driver. It is built for greatstrength, the wheels being enormously heavy, and the pole of the size ofa mast. Harness the horses have none, save a single belt with a sort oflock at the top, which fits into the iron yoke through the pole, and canslide from it to the extremity; there is neither breeching nor trace norcollar, and the reins run from the heavy curb bit directly through loopson the yoke to the driver's hands. The latter, a wiry, long-beardedMohammedan, is armed with a long whip attached to a short thick stock, and though he sits low, on the same level as the passenger beside him onthe front seat, he guides his half broken horses with amazing dexterityround sharp curves and by giddy precipices, where neither parapet norfencing give the startled mind even a momentary impression of security. The road from Simla to Kalka at the foot of the hills is so narrow thatif two vehicles meet, the one has to draw up to the edge of the road, while the other passes on its way. In view of the frequent encounters, every tonga-driver is provided with a post horn of tremendous power andmost discordant harmony; for the road is covered with bullock cartsbearing provisions and stores to the hill station. Smaller loads, suchas trunks and other luggage, are generally carried by coolies, whofollow a shorter path, the carriage road being ninety-two miles fromUmballa, the railroad station, to Simla, but a certain amount may bestowed away in the tonga, of which the capacity is considerable. 

In three of these vehicles our party of six began the descent on Tuesdaymorning, wrapped in linen "dusters" of various shades and shapes, andarmed with countless varieties of smoking gear. The roughness of theroad precludes all possibility of reading, and, after all, the rapidmotion and the constant appearance of danger--which in reality does notexist--prevent any overpowering _ennui_ from assailing the dustytraveller. So we spun along all day, stopping once or twice for a littlerefreshment, and changing horses every five or six miles. Everybody wasin capital spirits, and we changed seats often, thus obtaining somelittle variety. Isaacs, who to every one's astonishment, seemed not tofeel any inconvenience from his accident, clung to his seat in MissWestonhaugh's tonga, sitting in front with the driver, while she and heruncle or brother occupied the seat behind, which is far morecomfortable. At last, however, he was obliged to give his place toKildare, who had been very patient, but at last said it "really wasn'tfair, you know, " and so Isaacs courteously yielded. At last we reachedKalka, where the tongas are exchanged for _dâk gharry_ or mail carriage, a thing in which you can sit up in the daytime and lie down at night, there being an extension under the driver's box calculated for theaccommodation of the longest legs. When lying down in one of thesevehicles the sensation is that of being in a hearse and playing a gameof funeral. On this occasion, however, it was still early when we madethe change, and we paired off, two and two, for the last part of thedrive. By the well planned arrangements of Isaacs and Kildare, twocarriages were in readiness for us on the express train, and though thedifference in temperature was enormous between Simla and the plains, still steaming from the late rainy season, the travelling was made easyfor us, and we settled ourselves for the journey, after dining at thelittle hotel; Miss Westonhaugh bidding us all a cheery "good-night" asshe retired with her _ayah_ into the carriage prepared for her. I willnot go into tedious details of the journey--we slept and woke and sleptagain, and smoked, and occasionally concocted iced drinks from oursupplies, for in India the carriages are so large that the travellergenerally provides himself with a generous basket of provisions and atravelling ice-chest full of bottles, and takes a trunk or two with himin his compartment. Suffice it to say that we arrived on the followingday at Fyzabad in Oude, and that we were there met by guides andshikarries--the native huntsmen--who assured us that there were tigersabout near the outlying station of Pegnugger, where the elephants, previously ordered, would all be in readiness for us on the followingday. The journey from Fyzabad to Pegnugger was not a long one, and weset out in the cool of the evening, sending our servants along in that"happy-go-lucky" fashion which characterises Indian life. It has alwaysbeen a mystery to me how native servants manage always to turn up at theright moment. You say to your man, "Go there and wait for me, " and youarrive and find him waiting; though how he transferred himself thither, with his queer-looking bundle, and his lota, and cooking utensils, andyour best teapot wrapped up in a newspaper and ready for use, and withall the other hundred and one things that a native servant contrives tocarry about without breaking or losing one of them, is an unsolvedpuzzle. Yet there he is, clean and grinning as ever, and if he were notclean and grinning and provided with tea and cheroots, you would notkeep him in your service a day, though you would be incapable of lookinghalf so spotless and pleased under the same circumstances yourself. 

On the following day, therefore, we found ourselves at Pegnugger, surrounded by shikarries and provided with every instrument of the chasethat the ingenuity of man and the foresight of Isaacs and Ghyrkins couldprovide. There were numbers of tents, sleeping tents, cooking tents, andservants' tents; guns and ammunition of every calibre likely to beuseful; _kookries_, broad strong weapons not unlike the famous Americanbowie knives (which are all made in Sheffield, to the honour, glory, andgain, of British trade); there were huge packs of provisions edible andpotable; baskets of utensils for the kitchen and the table, and piles ofblankets and tenting gear for the camp. There was also the littlecollector of Pegnugger, whose small body housed a stout heart, for hehad shot tigers on foot before now in company with a certain Germandoctor of undying sporting fame, whose big round spectacles seemed todirect his bullets with unerring precision. But the doctor was not herenow, and so the sturdy Englishman condescended to accept a seat in thehowdah, and to kill his game with somewhat less risk than usual. 

This first day was occupied in transferring our party, now swelled bycountless beaters and numerous huntsmen, not to mention all the retinueof servants necessary for an Indian camp, to the neighbourhood of thebattlefield. There is not much conversation on these occasions, for theparty is apt to become scattered, and there is a general tone ofexpectancy in the air, the old hands conversing more with the nativeswho know the district than with each other, and the young ones eitherwondering how many tigers they will kill, or listening open mouthed tothe tales of adventure reeled off by the yard by the old beardedshikarry, who has slain the king of the jungle with a _kookrie_ in handto hand struggle when he was young, and bears the scars of the deadlyencounter on his brown chest to this day. Old Ghyrkins, who wasevidently in his element, rode about on a little _tat_, questioningbeaters and shikarries, and coming back every now and then to bawl upsome piece of information to the little collector, who had establishedhimself on one of the elephants and looked down over the edge of thehowdah, the great pith hat on his head making him look like an immensemushroom with a very thin stem sprouting suddenly from the back of thehuge beast. He smiled pleasantly at the old sportsman from hiselevation, and seemed to know all about it. It so chanced that when hereceived Isaacs' telegrams he had been planning a little excursion onhis own account, and had been sending out scouts and beaters for somedays to ascertain where the game lay. This, of course, was so much cleargain to us, and the little man was delighted at the opportunecoincidence which enabled him, by the unlimited money supplied, to joinin such a hunt as he had not seen since the time when the Prince ofWales disported himself among the royal game, three years before. As forMiss Westonhaugh, she was in the gayest of spirits, as she sat with herbrother on an elephant's back, while Isaacs, who loved the saddle, circled round her and kept up a fire of little compliments and prettyspeeches, to which she was fast becoming inured. Kildare and I followedthem closely on another elephant, discoursing seriously about the hunt, and occasionally shouting some question to John Westonhaugh, ahead, about sport in the south. 

Before evening we had arrived at our first camping ground, near a smallvillage on the outskirts of the jungle, and the tents were pitched on alittle elevation covered with grass, now green and waving. The men hadmowed a patch clear, and were busy with the pegs and all theparaphernalia of a canvas house, and we strolled about, some of usdirecting the operations, others offering a sacrifice of cooling liquidsand tobacco to the setting sun. Miss Westonhaugh had heard about livingin tents ever since she came to India, and had often longed to sleep inone of those temporary chambers that are set up anywhere in the"compound" of an English bungalow for the accommodation of the bachelorguests whom the house itself is too small to hold; now she was enchantedat the prospect of a whole fortnight under canvas, and watched with raptinterest the driving of the pegs, the raising of the poles, and thecareful furnishing of her dwelling. There was a carpet, and armchairs, and tables, and even a small bookcase with a few favourite volumes. Tous in civilised life it seems a great deal of trouble to transport alunch basket and a novel to some shady glen to enjoy a day's rest in theopen air, and we would almost rather starve than take the trouble tocarry provisions. In India you speak the word, and as by magic therearises in the wilderness a little village of tents, furnished with everynecessary luxury--and the luxuries necessary to our degenerate age aremany--a kitchen tent is raised, and a skilled dark-skinned artistprovides you in an hour with a dinner such as you could eat in no hotel. The treasures of the huge portable ice-chest reveal cooling wines andsoda water to the thirsty soul, and if you are going very far beyond thereach of the large towns, a small ice-machine is kept at work day andnight to increase the supply while you sleep, and to maintain it whileyou wake. In the _connât_ or verandah of the tent, long chairs await youafter your meal, and as you smoke the fragrant cigarette and watch thestars coming out, you feel as comfortable as though you had been diningin your own spacious bungalow in Mudnugger. 

It was not long before all was ready, and having made many ablutions anda little toilet, we assembled round the dinner table in the eating tent, the same party that had dined at Mr. Currie Ghyrkins' house on Sundaynight, with the addition of the little collector of Pegnugger, whosestories of his outlying district were full of humour and anecdote. Thetalk bending in the direction of adventure, Kildare, who had been latelyin South Africa with his regiment, told some tales of Zulus and assegaisand Boers in the Hibernian style of hyperbole. The Irish blood nevercomes out so strongly as when a story is to be told, and no amount ofEnglish education and Oxford accent will suppress the tendency. Thebrogue is gone, but the love of the marvellous is there still. Isaacsrelated the experience of "a man he knew, " who had been pulled off hiselephant, howdah and all, and had killed the tiger with a revolver athalf arm's length. 

"Ah yes, " said the little collector, who had not caught the names of allthe party when introduced, "I read about it at the time; I remember itvery well. It happened in Purneah two years ago. The gentleman was a Mr. Isaacs of Delhi. Queer name too--remember perfectly. " There was a roarof laughter at this, in which the collector joined vociferously on beinginformed that the man with the "queer name" was his neighbour at table. 

"You see what you get for your modesty, " cried old Ghyrkins, laughing toconvulsions. 

"And is it really true, Mr. Isaacs?" asked Miss Westonhaugh, lookingadmiringly across at the young man, who seemed rather annoyed. 

And so the conversation went round and all were merry, and some weresleepy after dinner, and we sat in long chairs under the awning or_connât_. There was no moon yet, but the stars shone out as they shinenowhere save in India, and the evening breeze played pleasantly throughthe ropes after the long hot day. Miss Westonhaugh assured everybody forthe hundredth time that day that she rather liked the smell of cigars, and so we smoked and chatted a little, and presently there was a jerkand a sputtering sneeze from Mr. Ghyrkins, who, being weary with themarch and the heat and the good dinner, and on the borders of sleep, hadput the wrong end of his cigar in his mouth with destructive results. Then he threw it away with a small volley of harmless expletives, andswore he would go to bed, as he could not stand our dulness any longer;but he merely shifted his position a little, and was soon snoringmerrily. 

"What a pity it is we have no piano, Katharine, " said John Westonhaugh, who was fond of music. "Could you not sing something without anyaccompaniment?"

"Oh no. Mr. Isaacs, " she said, turning her voice to where she could seethe light of his cigarette and the faint outline of his chair in thestarlight, "here we are in the camp. Now where is the 'lute' youpromised to produce for us? I think the time has come at last for you tokeep your promise. "

"Well, " said he, "I believe there really is an old guitar or somethingof the kind among my traps somewhere. But it might wake Mr. Ghyrkins, who, I understand from his tones, is asleep. "

Various opinions were expressed to the effect that Mr. Ghyrkins was notso easily disturbed, and a voice like Kildare's was heard to mumble that"it would not hurt him if he was, " a sentence no one attempted toconstrue. So the faithful Narain was summoned, and instructed to bringthe instrument if he could find it. I was rather surprised at Isaacs'readiness to sing; but in the first place I had never heard him, andbesides I did not make allowance for the Oriental courtesy of hischaracter, which would not refuse anything, or make any show of refusalin order to be pressed. Narain returned with a very modern-lookingguitar-case, and, opening the box, presented his master with theinstrument, which, as Isaacs took it to the light in the door of thetent to see if it had travelled safely, appeared to be a perfectly newGerman guitar. I suspected him of having purchased it at the littlemusic shop at Simla, for the especial amusement of our party. 

"I thought it was a lute you played on, " said Miss Westonhaugh, "a real, lovely, ancient Assyrian lute, or something of that kind. "

"Oh, a plain guitar is infinitely better and less troublesome, " saidIsaacs as he returned to his seat in the dark and began to tune thestrings softly. "It takes so long to tune one of those old things, andthen nothing will make them stand. Now this one, you see, --or rather youcannot see, --has an ingenious contrivance of screws by which you maytune it in a moment. " While he was speaking he was altering the pitch ofthe strings, and presently he added, "There, it is done now, " and two orthree sounding chords fell on the still air. "Now what shall I sing? Iawait your commands. "

"Something soft, and sweet, and gentle. "

"A love-song?" asked he quietly. 

"Well yes--a love-song if you like. Why not?" said she. 

"No reason in the world that I can think of, " I remarked. Whereat LordSteepleton Kildare threw his cigar away, and began lighting another amoment after, as if he had discarded his weed by mistake. 

Isaacs struck a few chords softly, and then began a sort of runningaccompaniment. His voice, which seemed to me to be very high, waswonderfully smooth and round, and produced the impression of being muchmore powerful than he cared to show. He sang without the least effort, and yet there was none of that effeminate character that I have noticedin European male singers when producing high notes very softly. I do notunderstand music, but I am sure I never heard an opera tenor with avoice of such quality. The words of his song were Persian, and the pureaccents of his native tongue seemed well suited to the half passionate, half plaintive air he had chosen. I afterwards found a translation ofthe sonnet by an English officer, which I here give, though it conveyslittle idea of the music of the original verse. 

 Last night, my eyes being closed in sleep, but my good fortune awake, The whole night, the livelong night, the image of my beloved one was the companion of my soul. The sweetness of her melodious voice still remains vibrating on my soul; Heavens! how did the sugared words fall from her sweeter lips; Alas! all that she said to me in that dream has escaped from my memory, Although it was my care till break of day to repeat over and over her sweet words. The day, unless illuminated by her beauty, is, to my eyes, of nocturnal darkness. Happy day that first I gazed upon that lovely face! May the eyes of Jami long be blessed with pleasing visions, since they presented to his view last night The object, on whose account he passed his waking life in expectation. [1]

His beautiful voice ceased, and with infinite skill he wove a fewstrains of the melody into the final chords he played when he hadfinished singing. It was all so entirely novel, so unlike any music mostof us had ever heard, and it was so undeniably good, that every oneapplauded and said something to the singer in turn, expressing thegreatest admiration and appreciation. Miss Westonhaugh was the last tospeak. 

"It is perfectly lovely, " she said. "I wish I could understand thewords--are they as sweet as the music?"

"Sweeter, " he answered, and he gave an offhand translation of two orthree verses. 

"Beautiful indeed, " she said; "and now sing me another, please. " Therewas no resisting such an appeal, with the personal pronoun in thesingular number. He moved a little nearer, and emphatically sang to her, and to no one else. A song of the same character as the first, but, Ithought, more passionate and less dreamy, as his great sweet voiceswelled and softened and rose again in burning vibrations and waves ofsound. She did not ask a translation this time, but some one else did, after the applause had subsided. 

"I cannot translate these things, " said Isaacs, "so as to do themjustice, or give you any idea of the strength and vitality of thePersian verses. Perhaps Griggs, who understands Persian very well and isa literary man, may do it for you. I would rather not try. " I professedmy entire inability to comply with the request, and to turn theconversation asked him where he had learned to play the guitar so well. 

"Oh, " he answered, "in Istamboul, years ago. Everybody plays inIstamboul--and most people sing love-songs. Besides it is so easy, " andhe ran scales up and down the strings with marvellous rapidity toillustrate what he said. 

"And do you never sing English songs, Mr. Isaacs?" asked the collectorof Pegnugger, who was enchanted, not having heard a note of music formonths. 

"Oh, sometimes, " he answered. "I think I could sing 'Drink to me onlywith thine eyes'--do you know it?" He began to play the melody on theguitar while he spoke. 

"Rather--I should think so!" Kildare was heard to say. He was beginningto think the concert had lasted long enough. 

"Oh, do sing it, Mr. Isaacs, " said the young girl, "and my brother and Iwill join in. It will be so pretty!"

It certainly sounded very sweetly as he gave the melody in his clear, high tones, and Miss Westonhaugh and John sang with him. Having heard itseveral thousand times myself, I was beginning to recognise the tunewell enough to enjoy it a good deal. 

"That is very nice, " said Kildare, who was sorry he had made animpatient remark before, and wanted to atone. 

"Eh? what? how's that?" said Mr. Ghyrkins just waking up. "Oh! ofcourse. My niece sings charmingly. Quite an artist, you know. " And hestruggled out of his chair and said it was high time we all went to bedif we meant to shoot straight in the morning. The magistrate ofPegnugger concurred in the opinion, and we reluctantly separated for thenight to our respective quarters, Isaacs and I occupying a tenttogether, which he had caused to be sent on from Delhi, as beingespecially adapted to his comfort. 

On the following day at dawn we were roused by the sound ofpreparations, and before we were dressed the voices of Mr. CurrieGhyrkins and the collector were heard in the camp, stirring up thesleepy servants and ordering us to be waked. The two old sportsmen feltit their duty to be first on such an occasion as this, and in the calmsecurity that they would do everything that was right, Isaacs and Idiscussed our tea and fruit--the _chota haziri_ or "little breakfast"usually taken in India on waking--sitting in the door of our tent, whileKiramat Ali and Narain and Mahmoud and the rest of the servants weregiving a final rub to the weapons of the chase, and making all thelittle preparations for a long day. And we sat looking out and sippingour tea. 

In the cool of the dawn Miss Westonhaugh came tripping across the wetgrass to where her uncle was giving his final directions about thefurnishing of his howdah for the day; a lovely apparition of freshnessin the gray morning, all dressed in dark blue, a light pithhelmet-shaped hat pressing the rebellious white-gold hair almost out ofsight. She walked so easily it seemed as if her dainty little feet hadwings, as Hermes' of old, to ease the ground of their feather weight. Abroad belt hung across her shoulder with little rows of cartridges setall along, and at the end hung a very business-like revolver case ofbrown leather and of goodly length. No toy miniature pistol would shecarry, but a full-sized, heavy "six-shooter, " that might really be ofuse at close quarters. She stood some minutes talking with Mr. Ghyrkins, not noticing us in the shadow of the tent some thirty yards away; Isaacsand I watched her intently--with very different feelings, possibly, butyet intensely admiring the fair creature, so strong and pliant, and yetso erect and straight. She turned half round towards us, and I saw therewere flowers in the front of her dress. I wondered where they had comefrom; they were roses--of all flowers in the world to be blooming in thedesert. Perhaps she had brought them carefully from Fyzabad, but thatwas improbable; or from Pegnugger--yes, there would be roses in thecollector's garden there. Isaacs rose to his feet. 

"Oh, come along, Griggs. You have had quite enough tea!"

"Go ahead; I will be with you in a moment. " But a sudden thought struckme, and I went with him, bareheaded, to greet Miss Westonhaugh. Shesmiled brightly as she held out her hand. 

"Good morning, Mr. Isaacs. Thank you so much for the roses. How _did_you do it? They are _too_ lovely!" So it was just as I thought. Isaacshad probably despatched a man back to Pegnugger in the night. 

"Very easy I assure you. I am so glad you like them. They are not veryfresh after all though, I see, " he added depreciatingly, as men do whenthey give flowers to people they care about. I never heard a man findfault with flowers he gave out of a sense of duty. It is perhaps thatthe woman best loved of all things in the world has for him a sweetnessand a beauty that kills the coarser hues of the rose, and outvies thefragrance of the double violets. 

"Oh no!" she said, emphasising the negative vigorously. "I think theyare perfectly beautiful, but I want you to tell me where you got them. "I began talking to Ghyrkins, who was intent on the arrangement of hisguns which was going on under his eyes, but I heard the answer, thoughIsaacs spoke in a low voice. 

"You must not say that, Miss Westonhaugh. You yourself are the mostperfect and beautiful thing God ever made. " By a superhuman effort Isucceeded in keeping my eyes fixed on Ghyrkins, probably with a stony, unconscious stare, for he presently asked what I was looking at. I donot think Isaacs cared whether I heard him or not, knowing that Isympathised, but Mr. Ghyrkins was another matter. The Persian had madeprogress, for there was no trace of annoyance in Miss Westonhaugh'sanswer, though she entirely overlooked her companion's pretty speech. 

"Seriously, Mr. Isaacs, if you mean to have one of them for your badgeto-day, you must tell me how you got them. " I turned slowly round. Shewas holding a single rose in her fingers, and looking from it to him, asif to see if it would match his olive skin and his Karkee shooting-coat. He could not resist the bribe. 

"If you really want to know I will tell you, but it is a profoundsecret, " he said, smiling. "Griggs, swear!"

I raised my hand and murmured something about the graves of myancestors. 

"Well, " he continued, "yesterday morning at the collector's house I sawa garden; in the garden there were roses, carefully tended, for it islate. I took the gardener apart and said, 'My friend, behold, here issilver for thee, both rupees and pais. And if thou wilt pick the best ofthy roses and deliver them to the swift runner whom I will send to theeat supper time when the stars are coming out, I will give thee as muchas thou shalt earn in a month with thy English master. But if thou wiltnot do it, or if thou failest to do it, having promised, I will causethe grave of thy father to be defiled with the slaughter of swine, and, moreover, I will return and beat thee with a thick stick!' The fellowwas a Mussulman, and there was a merry twinkle in his eye as he took themoney and swore a great oath. I left a running man at Pegnugger with abasket, and that is how you got the roses. Don't tell the collector, that is all. "

We all laughed, and Miss Westonhaugh gave the rose to Isaacs, whotouched it to his lips, under pretence of smelling it, and put it in hisbuttonhole. Kildare came up at this moment and created a diversion; thenthe collector joined us and scattered us right and left, saying it washigh time we were in the howdahs and on the way. So we buckled on ourbelts, and those who wore hats put them on, and those who preferredturbans bent while their bearers wound them on, and then we moved off towhere the elephants were waiting and got into our places, and the_mahouts_ urged the huge beasts from their knees to their feet, and wewent swinging off to the forest. The pad elephants, who serve as beatersand move between the howdah animals, joined us, and presently we wentsplashing through the reedy patches of fern, and crashing through thebranches, towards the heart of the jungle. 

Mr. Currie Ghyrkins, whose long experience had made him as cool whenafter tigers as when reading the _Pioneer_ in his shady bungalow atSimla, had taken Miss Westonhaugh with him in his howdah, and as anadditional precaution for her safety, the little collector of Pegnugger, who was a dead shot, only allowed two pad elephants to move betweenhimself and Ghyrkins. As there were thirty-seven animals in all, therest of the party were much scattered. I thought there were too manyelephants for our six howdahs, but it turned out that I was mistaken, for we had capital sport. The magistrate of Pegnugger, who knew thecountry thoroughly, was made the despot of the day. His orders wereobeyed unquestioningly and unconditionally, and we halted in long lineor marched onwards, forcing a passage through every obstacle, at hisword. We might have been out a couple of hours, watching every patch ofjungle and blade of long rank grass for a sight of the striped skin, writhing through the reeds, that we so longed to see, when the quick, short crack of a rifle away to the right brought us to a halt, and everyone drew a long breath and turned, gun in hand, in the direction whencethe sound had come. It was Kildare; he had met his first tiger, and thefirst also of the hunt. He had put up the animal not five paces in frontof him, stealing along in the cool grass and hoping to escape betweenthe elephants, in the cunning way they often do. He had fired a snapshot too quickly, inflicting a wound in the flank which only served torouse the tiger to madness. With a leap that seemed to raise its bodyperpendicularly from the ground, the gorgeous creature flew into the airand settled right on the head of Kildare's elephant, while the terrified_mahout_ wound himself round the howdah. It would have been a tryingposition for the oldest sportsman, but to be brought into such terrificencounter at arm's length, almost, at one's very first experience of thechase, was a terrible test of nerve. Those who were near said that inthat awful moment Kildare never changed colour. The elephant plungedwildly in his efforts to shake off the beast from his head, but Kildarehad seized his second gun the moment he had discharged the first, andaiming for one second only, as the tossing head and neck of the tuskerbrought the gigantic cat opposite him, fired again. The fearful claws, driven deep and sure into the thick hide of the poor elephant, relaxedtheir hold, the beautiful lithe limbs straightened by their ownperpendicular weight, and the first prize of the day dropped to theground like lead, dead, shot through the head. 

A great yell of triumph arose all along the line, and the little_mahout_ crept cautiously back from his lurking-place behind the howdahto see if the coast were clear. Kildare had behaved splendidly, andshouts of congratulation reached his ears from all sides. MissWestonhaugh waved her handkerchief in token of approbation, every oneapplauded, and far away to the left Isaacs, who was in the last howdah, clapped his hands vigorously, and seat his high clear voice ringing likea trumpet down the line. 

"Well done, Kildare! well done, indeed!" and his rival's praise was notthe least grateful to Lord Steepleton on that day. Meanwhile theshikarries gathered around the fallen beast. It proved to be a youngtigress some eight feet long, and the clean bright coat showed that shewas no man-eater. So the pad elephant came alongside, to use a nauticalphrase not inappropriate, and kneeling down received its burdenwillingly, well knowing that the slain beauty was one of his deadlyfoes. The _mahout_ pronounced the elephant on which Kildare was mountedable to proceed, and only a few huge drops of blood marked where thetigress had kept her hold. We moved on again, beating the jungle, wheeling and doubling the long line, wherever it seemed likely that somestriped monster might have eluded us. Marching and counter-marchingthrough the heat of the day, we picked up another-prize in theafternoon. It was a large old tiger, nine feet six as he lay; he fell aneasy prey to the gun of the little collector of Pegnugger, who sent abullet through his heart at the first shot, and smiled rathercontemptuously as he removed the empty shell of the cartridge from hisgun. He would rather have had Kildare's chance in the morning. 

After all, two tigers in a day was not bad sport for the time of year. Iknew Isaacs would be disappointed at not having had a shot, where hisrival in a certain quarter had had so good an opportunity for displayingskill and courage; and I confessed to myself that I preferred a smallparty, say, a dozen elephants and three howdahs, to this tremendous andexpensive _battue_. I had a shot-gun with me, and consoled myself byshooting a peacock or two as we rolled and swayed homewards. We haddetermined to keep to the same camp for a day or two, as we could enterthe forest from another point on the morrow, and might even beat some ofthe same ground again with success. 

It was past five when we got down to the tents and descended from ourhowdahs, glad to stretch our stiffened limbs in a brisk walk. The deadtigers were hauled into the middle of the camp, and the servants rantogether to see the result of the _sahib log's_ day out. We retired todress and refresh ourselves for dinner. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER X. 

In Isaacs' tent I was pulling off my turban, all shapeless and crumpledby the long day, while Isaacs stood disconsolately looking at the cleanguns and unbroken rows of cartridges which Narain deposited on thetable. The sun was very low, and shone horizontally through the raiseddoor of the tent on my friend's rather gloomy face. At that momentsomething intercepted the sunshine, and a dark shadow fell across thefloor. I looked, and saw a native standing on the threshold, salaamingand waiting to be spoken to. He was not one of our men, but a commonryot, clad simply in a _dhoti_ or waist-cloth, and a rather dirtyturban. 

"Kya chahte ho?"--"What do you want?" asked Isaacs impatiently. He wasnot in a good humour by any means. "Wilt thou deprive thy betters of thesunlight thou enjoyest thyself?"

"The sahib's face is like the sun and the moon, " replied the mandeprecatingly. "But if the great lord will listen I will tell him whatshall rejoice his heart. "

"Speak, unbeliever, " said Isaacs. 

"Protector of the poor! you are my father and my mother! but I knowwhere there lieth a great tiger, an eater of men, hard-hearted, thatdelighteth in blood. "

"Dog, " answered Isaacs, calmly removing his coat, "the tiger you speakof was seen by you many moons since; what do you come to me with idletales for?" Isaacs was familiar with the native trick of palming off oldtigers on the unwary stranger, in the hope of a reward. 

"Sahib, I am no liar. I saw the tiger, who is the king of the forest, this morning. " Isaacs' manner relaxed a little, and he sat down andlighted the eternal cigarette. "Slave, " he said meditatively, "if it isas you say, I will kill the tiger, but if it is not as you say, I willkill you, and cause your body to be buried with the carcass of an ox, and your soul shall not live. " The man did not seem much moved by thethreat. He moved nearer, and salaamed again. 

"It is near to the dwelling of the sahib, who is my father, " said theman, speaking low. "The day before yesterday he destroyed a man from thevillage. He has eaten five men in the last moon. I have seen him enterhis lair, and he will surely return before the dawn; and the sahib shallstrike him by his lightning; and the sahib will not refuse me the earsof the man-eater, that I may make a _jädu_, a charm against suddendeath?"

"Hound! if thou speakest the truth, and I kill the tiger, the monarch ofgame, I will make thee a rich man; but thou shalt not have his ears. Idesire the _jädu_ for myself. I have spoken; wait thou here mypleasure. " The ryot bent low to the earth, and then squatted by thetent-door to wait, in the patient way that a Hindoo can, for Isaacs togo and eat his dinner. As the latter came out ten minutes later, hepaused and addressed the man once more. "Speak not to any man of thytiger while I am gone, or I will cut off thine ears with a pork knife. "And we passed on. 

The sun was now set and hovering in the afterglow, the new moon wasfollowing lazily down. I stopped a moment to look at her, and wassurprised by Miss Westonhaugh's voice close behind me. 

"Are you wishing by the new moon, Mr. Griggs?" she asked. 

"Yes, " said I, "I was. And what were you wishing, Miss Westonhaugh, if Imay ask?" Isaacs came up, and paused beside us. The beautiful girl stoodquite still, looking to westward, a red glow on the white-gold masses ofher hair. 

"Did you say you were wishing for something, Miss Westonhaugh?" heasked. "Perhaps I can get it for you. More flowers, perhaps? They arevery easily got. "

"No--that is, not especially. I was wishing--well, that a tiger-huntmight last for ever; and I want a pair of tiger's ears. My old _ayah_says they keep off evil spirits and sickness; and all sorts of things. "

"I know; it is a curious idea. I suppose both those beasts there havelost theirs already. These fellows cut them off in no time. "

"Yes. I have looked. So I suppose I must wait till to-morrow. Butpromise me, Mr. Isaacs, if you shoot one to-morrow, let me have theears!"

"I will promise that readily enough. I would promise anything you--" Thelast part of the sentence was lost to me, as I moved away and left them. 

At dinner, of course, every one talked of the day's sport, andcompliments of all kinds were showered on Lord Steepleton, who lookedvery much pleased, and drank a good deal of wine. Ghyrkins and thelittle magistrate expressed their opinion that he would make a famoustiger-killer one of these days, when he had learned to wait. Every onewas hungry and rather tired, and after a somewhat silent cigar, weparted for the night, Miss Westonhaugh rising first. Isaacs went to hisquarters, and I remained alone in a long chair, by the deserteddining-tent. Kiramat Ali brought me a fresh hookah, and I lay quietlysmoking and thinking of all kinds of things--things of all kinds, tigers, golden hair, more tigers, Isaacs, Shere Ali, Baithop--, what washis name--Baithop--p--. I fell asleep. 

Some one touched my hand, waking me suddenly. I sprang to my feet andseized the man by the throat, before I recognised in the starlight thatit was Isaacs. 

"You are not a nice person to rouse, " remarked he in a low voice, as Irelaxed my grasp. "You will have fever if you sleep out-of-doors at thistime of year. Now look here; it is past midnight, and I am going out alittle way. " I noticed that he had a _kookrie_ knife at his waist, andthat his cartridge-belt was on his chest. 

"I will go with you, " said I, guessing his intention. "I will be readyin a moment, " and I began to move towards the tent. 

"No. I must go alone, and do this thing single-handed. I have aparticular reason. I only wanted to warn you I was gone, in case youmissed me. I shall take that ryot fellow with me to show me the way. "

"Give him a gun, " I suggested. 

"He could not use one if I did. He has your _kookrie_ in case ofaccidents. "

"Oh, very well! do not let me interfere with any innocent and childlikepastime you may propose for your evening hours. I will attend to yourfuneral in the morning. Good-night. "

"Good-night; I shall be back before you are up. " And he walked quicklyoff to where the ryot was waiting and holding his guns. He had the senseto take two. I was angry at the perverse temerity of the man. Why couldhe not have an elephant out and go like a sensible thinking being, instead of sneaking out with one miserable peasant to lie all nightamong the reeds, in as great danger from cobras as from the beast hemeant to kill? And all for a girl --an English girl--a creature all fairhair and eyes, with no more intelligence than a sheep! Was it not shewho sent him out to his death in the jungle, that her miserable capricefor a pair of tiger's ears might be immediately satisfied? If a womanever loved me, Paul Griggs, --thank heaven no woman ever did, --would I goout into bogs and desert places and risk my precious skin to find her apair of cat's ears? Not I;--wait a moment, though. If I were in hisplace, if Miss Westonhaugh loved _me_--I laughed at the conceit. Butsupposing she did. Just for the sake of argument, I would allow it. Ithink that I would risk something after all. What a glorious thing itwould be to be loved by a woman, once, wholly and for ever. To meet thecreature I described to him the other night, waiting for me to come intoher life, and to be to her all I could be to the woman I should love. But she has never come; never will, now; still, there is a sort of restto me in thinking of rest. Hearth, home, wife, children; the worn oldstaff resting in the corner, never to wander again. What a strange thingit is that men should have all these, and more, and yet never see thatthey have the simple elements of earthly happiness, if they would butuse them. And we, outcasts and wanderers, children of sin and darkness, in whose hands one commandment seems hardly less fragile than another, would give anything--had we anything to give--for the happiness of ahome, to call our own. How strange it is that what I said to Isaacsshould be true. "Do not marry unless you must depend on each other fordaily bread, or unless you are rich enough to live apart. " Yes, it istrue, in ninetynine cases out of a hundred. But then, I should add asaving clause, "and unless you are quite sure that you love each other. "Ay, there is the _pons asinorum, _ the bridge whereon young asses and oldfools come to such terrible grief. They are perfectly sure they loveeternally; they will indignantly scorn the suggestions of prudence; loveany other woman? never, while I live, answers the happy andunsophisticated youth. Be sorry I did it? Do you think I am a schoolboyin my first passion? demands the aged bridegroom. And so they marry, andin a year or two the enthusiastic young man runs away with some otherenthusiastic man's wife, and the octogenarian spouse finds himselfconstituted into a pot of honey for his wife's swarming relations tosettle on, like flies. But a man in strong middle prime of age, like me, knows his own mind; and--yes, on the whole I was unjust to Isaacs and toMiss Westonhaugh. If a woman loved me, she should have all the tiger'sears she wanted. "Still, I hope he will get back safely, " I added, inafterthought to my reverie, as I turned into bed and ordered Kiramat Alito wake me half an hour before dawn. 

I was restless, sleeping a little and dreaming much. At last I struct alight and looked at my watch. Four o'clock. It would not be dawn formore than an hour; I knew Isaacs had made for the place where the tigerpassed his days, certain that he would return near daybreak, accordingto all common probability. He need not have gone so early, I thought. However, it might be a long way off. I lay still for a while, but itseemed very hot and close under the canvas. I got up and threw a_caftán_ round me, drew a chair into the _connât_ and sat, or ratherlay, down in the cool morning breeze. Then I dozed again until KiramatAli woke me by pulling at my foot. He said it would be dawn in half anhour. I had passed a bad night, and went out, as I was, to walk on thegrass. There was Miss Westonhaugh's tent away off at the other end. Shewas sleeping calmly enough, never doubting that at that very moment theman who loved her was risking his life for her pleasure--her slightestwhim. She would be wide awake if she knew it, staring out into thedarkness and listening for the crack of his rifle. A faint lightappeared behind the dining-tent, over the distant trees, like the lightof London seen from twenty or thirty miles' distance in the country, afaint, suggestive, murky grayness in the sky, making the stars lookdimmer. 

The sound of a shot rang true and clear through the chill air; not faroff I thought. I held my breath, listening for a second report, but nonecame. So it was over. Either he had killed the tiger with his firstbullet, or the tiger had killed him before he could fire a second. I wasintensely excited. If he were safe I wished him to have the glory ofcoming home quite alone. There was nothing for it but to wait, so I wentinto my tent and took a bath--a very simple operation where the bathingconsists in pouring a huge jar of water over one's head. Tents in Indiahave always a small side tent with a ditch dug to drain off the waterfrom the copious ablutions of the inmate. I emerged into the roomfeeling better. It was now quite light, and I proceeded to dressleisurely to spin out the time. As I was drawing on my boots, Isaacssauntered in quietly and laid his gun on the table. He was pale, and hisKarkee clothes were covered with mud and leaves and bits of creeper, buthis movements showed he was not hurt in any way; he hardly seemed tired. 

"Well?" I said anxiously. 

"Very well, thank you. Here they are, " and he produced from the pocketof his coat the _spolia opima_ in the shape of a pair of ears, thatlooked very large to me. There was a little blood on them and on hishands as he handed the precious trophies to me for inspection. We stoodby the open door, and while I was turning over the ears curiously in myhands, he looked down at his clothes. 

"I think I will take a bath, " he said; "I must have been in a dirtyplace. "

"My dear fellow, " I said, taking his hand, "this is absurd. I mean allthis affected calmness. I was angry at your going in that way, to riskyour head in a tiger's mouth; but I am sincerely glad to see you backalive. I congratulate you most heartily. "

"Thank you, old man, " he said, his pale face brightening a little. "I amvery glad myself. Do you know I have a superstition that I must fulfilevery wish of--like that--even half expressed, to the very letter?"

"The 'superstition, ' as you call it, is worthy of the bravest knightthat ever laid lance in rest. Don't part with superstitions like that. They are noble and generous things. "

"Perhaps, " he answered, "but I really am very superstitious, " he added, as he turned into the bathing _connât_. Soon I heard him splashing amongthe water jars. 

"By-the-bye, Griggs, " he called out through the canvas, "I forgot totell you. They are bringing that beast home on an elephant. It was muchnearer than we supposed. They will be here in twenty minutes. " Atremendous splashing interrupted him. "You can go and attend to thatfuneral you were talking about last night, " he added, and his voice wasagain drowned in the swish and souse of the water. "He was ratherlarge--over ten feet--I should say. Measure him as soon as he--" anothercascade completed the sentence. I went out, taking the measuring tapefrom the table. 

In a few minutes the procession appeared. Two or three matutinalshikarries had gone out and come back, followed by the elephant, forwhich Isaacs had sent the ryot at full speed the moment he was sure thebeast was dead. And so they came up the little hill behind thedining-tent. The great tusker moved evenly along, bearing on the pad anenormous yellow carcass, at which the little _mahout_ glancedoccasionally over his shoulder. Astride of the dead king sat the ryot, who had directed Isaacs, crooning a strange psalm of victory in hisoutlandish northern dialect, and occasionally clapping his hands overhis head with an expression of the most intense satisfaction I have everseen on a human face. The little band came to the middle of the campwhere the other tigers, now cut up and skinned elsewhere, had beendeposited the night before, and as the elephant knelt down, theshikarries pulled the whole load over, pad, tiger, ryot and all, thelatter skipping nimbly aside. There he lay, the great beast that hadtaken so many lives. We stretched him out and measured him--eleven feetfrom the tip of his nose to the end of his tail, all but an inch--as alittle more straightening fills the measure, eleven feet exactly. 

Meanwhile, the servant and shikarries collected, and the noise of theexploit went abroad. The sun was just rising when Mr. Ghyrkins put hishead out of his tent and wanted to know "what the deuce all this_tamäsha_ was about. "

"Oh, nothing especial, " I called out. "Isaacs has killed an eleven footman-eater in the night. That is all. "

"Well I'm damned, " said Mr. Ghyrkins briefly, and to the point, as hestared from his tent at the great carcass, which lay stretched out forall to see, the elephant having departed. 

"Clear off those fellows and let me have a look at him, can't you?" hecalled out, gathering the tent curtains round his neck; and there hestood, his jolly red face and dishevelled gray hair looking as if theyhad no body attached at all. 

I went back to our quarters. Isaacs was putting the ears, which he hadcarefully cleansed from blood, into a silver box of beautifulworkmanship, which Narain had extracted from his master's numeroustraps. 

"Take that box to Miss Westonhaugh's tent, " he said, giving it to theservant, "with a greeting from me--with 'much peace. '" The man went out. 

"She will send the box back, " said I. "Such is the Englishwoman. Shewill take a pair of tiger's ears that nearly cost you your life, and shewould rather die than accept the bit of silver in which you enclosethem, without the 'permission of her uncle. '"

"I do not care, " he said, "so long as she keeps the ears. But unless Iam much mistaken, she will keep the box too. She is not like otherEnglishwomen in the least. "

I was not sure of that. We had some tea in the door of our tent, andIsaacs seemed hungry and thirsty, as well he might be. Now that he wasrefreshed by bathing and the offices of the camp barber, he looked muchas usual, save that the extreme paleness I had noticed when he came inhad given place to a faint flush beneath the olive, probably due to hisexcitement, the danger being past. As we sat there, the rest of theparty, who had slept rather later than usual after their fatigues of theprevious day, came out one by one and stood around the dead tiger, wondering at the tale told by the delighted ryot, who squatted at thebeast's head to relate the adventure to all comers. We could see thegroup from where we sat, in the shadow of the _connât_, and thedifferent expressions of the men as they came out. The little collectorof Pegnugger measured and measured again; Mr. Ghyrkins stood with hishands in his coat pockets and his legs apart, then going to the otherside he took up the same position again. Lord Steepleton Kildaresauntered round and twirled his big moustache, saying nothing the while, but looking rather serious. John Westonhaugh, who seemed to be theartistic genius of the party, sent for a chair and made his servant holdan umbrella over him while he sketched the animal in his notebook, andpresently his sister came out, a big bunch of roses in her belt, and abroad hat half hiding her face, and looked at the tiger and then roundthe party quickly, searching for Isaacs. In her hand she held a littlepackage wrapped in white tissue paper. I strolled up to the group, leaving Isaacs in his tent. I thought I might as well play innocence. 

"Of course, " I remarked, "those fellows have bagged his ears as usual. "

"They never omit that, " said Ghyrkins. 

"Oh no, uncle, " broke in Miss Westonhaugh, "he gave them to me!"

"Who?" asked Ghyrkins, opening his little eyes wide. 

"Mr. Isaacs. Did not he kill the tiger? He sent me the ears in a littlesilver box. Here it is--the box, I mean. I am going to give it back tohim, of course. "

"How did Mr. Isaacs know you wanted them?" asked her uncle, getting redin the face. 

"Why, we were talking about them last night before dinner, and hepromised that if he shot a tiger to-day he would give me the ears. " Mr. Ghyrkins was redder and redder in the morning sun. There was a storm ofsome kind brewing. We were collected together on the other side of thedead tiger and exchanged all kinds of spontaneous civilities andremarks, not wishing to witness Mr. Ghyrkins' wrath, nor to go away toosuddenly. I heard the conversation, however, for the old gentleman madeno pretence of lowering his voice. 

"And do you mean to say you let him go off like that? He must have beenout all night. That beast of a nigger says so. On foot, too. I say onfoot! Do you know what you are talking about? Eh? Shooting tigers onfoot? What? Eh? Might have been killed as easily as not! And then whatwould you have said? Eh? What? Upon my soul! You girls from home have nomore hearts than a parcel of old Juggernauts!" Ghyrkins was now furious. We edged away towards the dining-tent, making a great talk about theterrible heat of the sun in the morning. I caught the beginning of MissWestonhaugh's answer. She had hardly appreciated the situation yet, andprobably thought her uncle was joking, but she spoke very coldly, beingproperly annoyed at his talking in such a way. 

"You cannot suppose for a moment that I meant him to go, " I heard hersay, and something else followed in a lower tone. We then went into thedining-tent. 

"Now look here, Katharine, " Mr. Ghyrkins' irate voice rang across theopen space, "if any young woman asked me----" John Westonhaugh had risenfrom his chair and apparently interrupted his uncle. Miss Westonhaughwalked slowly to her tent, while her male relations remained talking. Ithought Isaacs had shown some foresight in not taking part in themorning discussion. The two men went into their tents together and thedead tiger lay alone in the grass, the sun rising higher and higher, pouring down his burning rays on man and beast and green thing. And soonthe shikarries came with a small elephant and dragged the carcass awayto be skinned and cut up. Kildare and the collector said they would goand shoot some small game for dinner. Isaacs, I supposed, was sleeping, and I was alone in the dining-tent. I shouted for Kiramat Ali and sentfor books, paper, and pens, and a hookah, resolved to have a quietmorning to myself, since it was clear we were not going out to-day. Isaw Ghyrkins' servant enter his tent with bottles and ice, and Isuspected the old fellow was going to cool his wrath with a "peg, " andwould be asleep most of the morning. John would take a peg too, but hewould not sleep in consequence, being of Bombay, iron-headed andspirit-proof. So I read on and wrote, and was happy, for I like the heatof the noon-day and the buzzing of the flies, and the smell of theparched grass, being southern born. 

About twelve o'clock, when I was beginning to think I had done enoughwork for one day, I saw Miss Westonhaugh's native maid come out of hermistress's tent and survey the landscape, shading her eyes with herhand. She was dressed, of course, in spotless white drapery, and therewere heavy anklets on her feet and bangles of silver on her wrist. Sheseemed satisfied by her inspection and went in again, returningpresently with Miss Westonhaugh and a large package of work and novelsand letter-writing materials. They came straight to where I was sittingunder the airy tent where we dined, and Miss Westonhaugh establishedherself at one side of the table at the end of which I was writing. 

"It is so hot in my tent, " she said almost apologetically, and began tounroll some worsted work. 

"Yes, it is quite unbearable, " I answered politely, though I had notthought much about the temperature. There was a long silence, and Icollected my papers in a bundle and leaned back in my chair. I did notknow what to say, nor was anything expected of me. I looked occasionallyat the young girl, who had laid her hat on the table, allowing the richcoils of dazzling hair to assert their independence. Her dark eyes werebent over her work as her fingers deftly pushed the needle in and out ofthe brown linen she worked on. 

"Mr. Griggs, " she began at last without looking up, "did you know Mr. Isaacs was going out last night to kill that horrid thing?" I hadexpected the question for some time. 

"Yes; he told me about midnight, when he started. "

"Then why did you let him go?" she asked, looking suddenly at me, andknitting her dark eyebrows rather fiercely. 

"I do not think I could have prevented him. I do not think anybody couldprevent him from doing anything he had made up his mind to. I nearlyquarrelled with him, as it was. "

"I am sure I could have stopped him, if I had been you, " she saidinnocently. 

"I have not the least doubt that you could. Unfortunately, however, youwere not available at the time, or I would have suggested it to you. "

"I wish I had known, " she went on, plunging deeper and deeper. "I wouldnot have had him go for--for anything. "

"Oh! Well, I suppose not. But, seriously, Miss Westonhaugh, are you notflattered that a man should be willing and ready to risk life and limbin satisfying your lightest fancy?"

"Flattered?" she looked at me with much astonishment and some anger. Iwas sure the look was genuine and not assumed. 

"At all events the tiger's ears will always be a charming reminiscence, a token of esteem that any one might be proud of. "

"I am not proud of them in the least, though I shall always keep them asa warning not to wish for such things. I hope that the next time Mr. Isaacs is going to do a foolish thing you will have the common sense toprevent him. " She returned to her starting-point; but I saw no use inprolonging the skirmish, and turned the talk upon other things. And soonJohn Westonhaugh joined us, and found in me a sympathetic talker andlistener, as we both cared a great deal more for books than for tigers, though not averse to a stray shot now and then. 

In this kind of life the week passed, shooting to-day and staying incamp to-morrow. We shifted our ground several times, working along theborders of the forest and crashing through the jungle after tiger withvarying success. In the evenings, when not tired with the day's work, wesat together, and Isaacs sang, and at last even prevailed upon MissWestonhaugh to let him accompany her with his guitar, in which he provedvery successful. They were constantly together, and Ghyrkins was heardto say that Isaacs was "a very fine fellow, and it was a pity he wasn'tEnglish, " to which Kildare assented somewhat mournfully, allowing thatit was quite true. His chance was gone, and he knew it, and bore it likea gentleman, though he still made use of every opportunity he had tomake himself acceptable to Miss Westonhaugh. The girl liked his manlyways, and was always grateful for any little attention from him thatattracted her notice, but it was evident that all her interest ceasedthere. She liked him in the same way she liked her brother, but ratherless, if anything. She hardly knew, for she had seen so little of Johnsince she was a small child. I suppose Isaacs must have talked to herabout me, for she treated me with a certain consideration, and oftenreferred questions to me, on which I thought she might as well haveconsulted some one else. For my part, I served the lovers in every way Icould think of. I would have done anything for Isaacs then as now, and Iliked her for the honest good feeling she had shown about him, especially in the matter of the tiger's ears, for which she could notforgive herself--though in truth she had been innocent enough. And theywere really lovers, those two. Any one might have seen it, and but forthe wondrous fascination Isaacs exercised over every one who came nearhim, and the circumstances of his spotless name and reputation forintegrity in the large transactions in which he was frequently known tobe engaged, it is certain that Mr. Ghyrkins would have looked askance atthe whole affair, and very likely would have broken up the party. 

In the course of time we became a little _blasé_ about tigers, till onthe eighth day from the beginning of the hunt, which was a Thursday, Iremember, an incident occurred which left a lasting impression on themind of every one who witnessed it. It was a very hot morning, thehottest day we had had, and we had just crossed a _nullah_ in theforest, full from the recent rains, wherein the elephants lingeredlovingly to splash the water over their heated sides, drowning theswarms of mosquitoes from which they suffer such torments, in spite oftheir thick skins. The collector called a halt on the opposite side; ourline of march had become somewhat disordered by the passage, andnumerous tracks in the pasty black mud showed that the _nullah_ was afavourite resort of tigers--though at this time of day they might be along distance off. I had come next to the collector after we emergedfrom the stream, the pad elephants having lingered longer in the water, and Mr. Ghyrkins with Miss Westonhaugh was three or four places beyondme. It was shady and cool under the thick trees, and the light was notgood. The collector bent over his howdah, looking at some tracks. 

"Those tracks look suspiciously fresh, Mr. Griggs, " said the collector, scrutinising the holes, not yet filled by the oozing back water of the_nullah_. "Don't you think so?"

"Indeed, yes. I do not understand it at all, " I replied. At thecollector's call a couple of beaters came forward and stooped down toexamine the trail. One of them, a good-looking young _gowala_, orcowherd, followed along the footprints, examining each to be sure he wasnot going on a false spoor; he moved slowly, scrutinising each hole, asthe traces grew shallower on the rising ground, approaching a bit ofsmall jungle. My sight followed the probable course of the track aheadof him and something caught my eyes, which are remarkably good, even ata great distance. The object was brown and hairy; a dark brown, not thekind of colour one expects to see in the jungle in September. I lookedclosely, and was satisfied that it must be part of an animal; still moreclearly I saw it, and no doubt remained in my mind; it was the head of abullock or a heifer. I shouted to the man to be careful, to stop and letthe elephants plough through the undergrowth, as only elephants can. Buthe did not understand my Hindustani, which was of the civilised _Urdu_kind learnt in the North-West Provinces. The man went quickly along, andI tried to make the collector comprehend what I saw. But the padelephants were coming out of the water and forcing themselves betweenour beasts, and he hardly caught what I said in the confusion. The trackled away to my left, nearly opposite to the elephant bearing Mr. Ghyrkins and his niece. The little Pegnugger man was on my right. Thenative held on, moving more and more rapidly as he found himselffollowing a single track. I shouted to him--to Ghyrkins--to everybody, but they could not make the doomed man understand what I saw--thefreshly slain head of the tiger's last victim. There was little doubtthat the king himself was near by--probably in that suspicious-lookingbit of green jungle, slimy green too, as green is, that grows in stickychocolate-coloured mud. The young fellow was courageous, and ignorant ofthe immediate danger, and, above all, he was on the look out forbucksheesh. He reached the reeds and unclean vegetables that grew thickand foul together in the little patch. He put one foot into the bush. 

A great fiery yellow and black head rose cautiously above the level ofthe green and paused a moment, glaring. The wretched man, transfixedwith terror, stood stock still, expecting death. Then he moved, as if tothrow himself on one side, and at the same instant the tiger made a dashat his naked body, such a dash as a great relentless cat makes at agold-fish trying to slide away from its grip. The tiger struck the man aheavy blow on the right shoulder, felling him like a log, and comingdown to a standing position over his prey, with one paw on the native'sright arm. Probably the parade of elephants and bright coloured howdahs, and the shouts of the beaters and shikarries, distracted his attentionfor a moment. He stood whirling his tail to right and left, with halfdropped jaw and flaming eyes, half pressing, half grabbing the fleshyarm of the senseless man beneath him--impatient, alarmed, and horrible. 

"Pack!!! Pi-i-i-i-ing ... " went the crack and the sing of the merryrifle, and the scene changed. 

With a yell like a soul in everlasting torment the great beast whirledhimself into the air ten feet at least, and fell dead beside his victim, shot through breast and breastbone and heart. A dead silence fell on thespectators. Then I looked, and saw Miss Westonhaugh holding out a secondgun to Mr. Ghyrkins, while he, seeing that the first had done its work, leaned forward, his broad face pale with the extremity of his horror forthe man's danger, and his hands gripping at the empty rifle. 

"You've done it this time, " cried the collector from the right. "Takesix to four the man's dead!"

"Done, " called Kildare from the other end. I was the nearest to thescene, after Ghyrkins. I dropped over the edge of the howdah and madefor the spot, running. I think I reflected as I ran that it was ratherlow for men to bet on the poor fellow's life in that way. Tigers areoften very deceptive and always die hard, and I am a cautious person, sowhen I was near I pulled out my long army six-shooter, and, goingwitihin arm's length, quietly put a bullet through the beast's eye as amatter of safety. When he was cut up, however, the ball from the rifleof Mr. Ghyrkins was found in his heart; the old fellow was a dead shotstill. I went up and examined the prostrate man. He was lying on hisface, and so I picked him up and propped his head against the deadtiger. He was still breathing, but a very little examination proved thathis right collar-bone and the bone of his upper arm were broken. Alittle brandy revived him, and he immediately began to scream with pain. I was soon joined by the collector, who with characteristic promptitudehad torn and hewed some broad slats of bamboo from his howdah, and witha little pulling and wrenching, and the help of my long, toughturban-cloth, a real native pugree, we set and bound the arm as best wecould, giving the poor fellow brandy all the while. The collar-bone weleft to its own devices; an injury there takes care of itself. 

An elephant came up and received the dead tiger, and the man was carriedoff and placed in my howdah. The other animals with their riders hadgathered near the scene, and every one had something to say to Ghyrkins, who by his brilliant shot and the life he had saved, had maintained hisreputation, and come off the hero of the whole campaign. MissWestonhaugh was speechless with horror at the whole thing, and seemed tocling to her uncle, as if fearing something of the same kind mighthappen to her at any moment. Isaacs, as usual the last on the line ofbeating, came up and called out his congratulations. 

"After saving a life so well, Mr. Ghyrkins, you will not grudge me thepoor honour of risking one, will you?"

"Not I, my boy!" answered the delighted old sportsman, "only if thatmangy old man-eater had got you down the other day, I should not havebeen there to pot him!"

"Great shot, sir! I envy you, " said Kildare. 

"Splendid shot. A hundred yards at least, " said John Westonhaughmeditatively, but in a loud voice. 

So we swung away toward the camp, though it was early. Ghyrkinschuckled, and the man with the broken bones groaned. But between thedifferent members of the party he would be a rich man before he waswell. I amused myself with my favourite sport of potting peacocks withbullets; it is very good practice. Isaacs had told me that morning whenwe started that he would leave us the next day to meet Shere Ali nearKeitung. We reached camp about three o'clock, in the heat of theafternoon. The injured beater was put in a servant's tent to be sent offto Pegnugger in a litter in the cool of the night. There was a doctorthere who would take care of him under the collector's written orders. 

The camp was in a shady place, quite unlike the spot where we had firstpitched our tents. There was a little grove of mango-trees, ratherstunted, as they are in the north, and away at one corner of theplantation was a well with a small temple where a Brahmin, related toall the best families in the neighbouring village, dwelt and collectedthe gifts bestowed on him and his simple shrine by the superstitious, devout, or worldly pilgrims who yearly and monthly visited him in searchof counsel, spiritual or social. The men had mowed the grass smoothunder the trees, and the shade was not so close as to make it damp. Someryots had been called in to dig a ditch and raised a rough _chapudra_ orterrace, some fifteen feet in diameter, opposite the dining-tent, onwhich elevation we could sit, even late at night, in reasonable securityfrom cobras and other evil beasts. It was a pleasant place in theafternoon, and pleasanter still at night. As I turned into our tentafter we got back, I thought I would go and sit there when I had bathed, and send for a hookah and a novel, and go to sleep. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER XI. 

I observed that Isaacs was very quick about his toilet, and when I cameout and ascended the terrace, followed by Kiramat Ali with books andtobacco, I glanced lazily over the quiet scene, settling myself in mychair, and fully expecting to see my friend somewhere among the trees, not unaccompanied by some one else. I was not mistaken. Turning my eyestowards the corner of the grove where the old Brahmin had his shrine, Isaw the two well-known figures of Isaacs and Miss Westonhaugh saunteringtowards the well. Having satisfied the expectations of my curiosity, Iturned over the volume of philosophy, well thumbed and hard used as apriest's breviary, and I inhaled long draughts of tobacco, debatingwhether I should read, or meditate, or dream. Deciding in favour of themore mechanical form of intellectuality, I fixed on a page that lookedinviting, and followed the lines, from left to right, lazily at first, then with increased interest, and finally in that absorbed effort ofcontinued comprehension which constitutes real study. Page after page, syllogism after syllogism, conclusion after conclusion, I followed forthe hundredth time in the book I love well--the book of him that woulddestroy the religion I believe, but whose brilliant failure is one ofthe grandest efforts of the purely human mind. I finished a chapter and, in thought still, but conscious again of life, I looked up. They werestill down there by the well, those two, but while I looked the oldpriest, bent and white, came out of the little temple where he had beensprinkling his image of Vishnu, and dropped his aged limbs from one stepto the other painfully, steadying his uncertain descent with a stick. Hewent to the beautiful couple seated on the edge of the well, built ofmud and sun-dried bricks, and he seemed to speak to Isaacs, I watched, and became interested in the question whether Isaacs would give him atwo-anna bit or a copper, and whether I could distinguish with the nakedeye at that distance between the silver and the baser metal. Curious, thought I, how odd little trifles will absorb the attention. Theinterview which was to lead to the expected act of charity seemed to belasting a long time. 

Suddenly Isaacs turned and called to me; his high, distinct tonesseeming to gather volume from the hollow of the well. He was calling meto join them. I rose, rather reluctantly, from my books and movedthrough the trees to where they were. 

"Griggs, " Isaacs called out before I had reached him, "here is an oldfellow who knows something. I really believe he is something of a yogi. "

"What ridiculous nonsense, " I said impatiently, "who ever heard of ayogi living in a temple and feeding on the fat of the land in the wayall these men do? Is that all you wanted?" Miss Westonhaugh, peeringdown into the depths of the well, laughed gaily. 

"I told you so! Never try to make Mr. Griggs swallow that kind of thing. Besides, he is a 'cynic' you know. "

"As far as personal appearance goes, Miss Westonhaugh, I think yourfriend the Brahmin there stands more chance of being taken for aphilosopher of that school. He really does not look particularly wellfed, in spite of the riches I thought he possessed. " He was astrange-looking old man, with a white beard and a small badly-rolledpugree. His black eyes were filmy and disagreeable to look at. Iaddressed him in Hindustani, and told him what Isaacs said, that hethought he was a yogi. The old fellow did not look at me, nor did thebleared eyes give any sign of intelligence. Nevertheless he answered myquestion. 

"Of what avail that I do wonders for you who believe not?" he asked, andhis voice sounded cracked and far off. 

"It will avail thee several coins, friend, " I answered, "both rupees andpais. Reflect that there may be bucksheesh in store for thee, and do amiracle. "

"I will not do wonders for bucksheesh, " said the priest, and began tohobble away. Isaacs stepped lightly to his side and whispered somethingin his ear. The ancient Brahmin turned. 

"Then I will do a wonder for you, but I want no bucksheesh. I will do itfor the lady with white hair, whose face resembles Chunder. " He lookedlong and fixedly at Miss Westonhaugh. "Let the _sáhib log_ come with mea stone's throw from the well, and let one sáhib call his servant andbid him draw water that he may wash his hands. And I will do thiswonder; the man shall not draw any water, though he had the strength ofSiva, until I say the word. " So we moved away under the trees, and Ishouted for Kiramat Ali, who came running down, and I told him to send a_bhisti_, a water-carrier, with his leathern bucket. Then we waited. Presently the man came, with bucket and rope. 

"Draw water, that I may wash my hands, " said I. 

"Achhá, sáhib, " and he strode to the well and lowered his pail by therope. The priest looked intently at him as he shook the rope to turn thebucket over and let it fill; then he began to pull. The bucket seemed tobe caught. He jerked, and then bent his whole weight back, drawing therope across the edge of the brickwork. The thing was immovable. Heseemed astonished and looked down into the well, thinking the pail wascaught in a stone. I could not resist the temptation to go down andinspect the thing. No. The bucket was full and lying in the middle ofthe round sheet of water at the bottom of the well. The man tugged, while the Brahmin never took his eyes, now bright and fiery, off him. Iwent back to where they all stood. The thing had lasted five minutes. Then the priest's lips moved silently. 

Instantly the strain was released and the stout water-carrier fellheadlong backwards on the grass, his heels in the air, jerking thebucket right over the edge of the well. He bounded to his feet and ranup the grove, shouting "Bhût, Bhût, " "devils, devils, " at the top of hisvoice. His obstinacy had lasted so long as the bucket would not move, but then his terror got the better of him and he fled. 

"Did you ever see anything of that kind before, Miss Westonhaugh?" Iinquired. 

"No indeed; have you? How is it done?"

"I have seen similar things done, but not often. There are not many ofthem that know how. But I cannot tell you the process any more than Ican explain the mango trick, which belongs, distantly, to the same classof phenomena. "

The Brahmin, whose eyes were again dim and filmy, turned to Isaacs. 

"I have done a wonder for you. I will also tell you a saying. You havedone wrong in not taking the advice of your friend. You should not havecome forth to kill the king of game, nor have brought the white-hairedlady into the tiger's jaws. I have spoken. Peace be with you. " And hemoved away. 

"And with you peace, friend, " answered Isaacs mechanically, but as Ilooked at him he turned white to the very lips. 

Miss Westonhaugh did not understand the language, and Isaacs would havebeen the last person to translate such a speech as the Brahmin had made. We turned and strolled up the hill, and presently I bethought me of someerrand, and left them together under the trees. They were so happy andso beautiful together, the fair lily from the English dale and the deepred rose of Persian Gulistán. The sun slanted low through the trees andsank in rose-coloured haze, and the moon, now just at the half, began toshine out softly through the mangoes, and still the lovers walked, pacing slowly to and fro near the well. No wonder they dallied long; itwas their last evening together, and I doubted not that Isaacs wastelling her of his sudden departure, necessary for reasons which I knewhe would not explain to her or to any one else. 

At last we all assembled in the dining-tent. Mr. Currie Ghyrkins wasamong the first, and his niece was the last to enter the room. He wasglorious that evening, his kindly red face beamed on every one, and hecarried himself like a victorious general at a ladies' tea-party. He hadreason to be happy, and his jerky good spirits were needed tocounterbalance the deep melancholy that seemed to have settled upon hisniece. The colour was gone from her cheeks, and her dark eyes, heavilyfringed by the black brows and lashes, shone out strangely; the contrastbetween the white flaxen hair, drawn back in simple massive waves like aGreek statue, and the broad level eyes as dark as night, was almoststartling this evening in the singularity of its beauty. She sat like aqueenly marble at the end of the table, not silent, by any means, but soevidently out of spirits that John Westonhaugh, who did not know thatIsaacs was going in the morning, and would not have supposed that hissister could care so much, if he had known, remarked upon herdepression. 

"What is the matter, Katharine?" he asked kindly. "Have you a headachethis evening?" She was just then staring rather blankly into space. 

"Oh no, " she said, trying to smile. "I was thinking. "

"Ah, " said Mr. Ghyrkins merrily, "that is why you look so unlikeyourself, my dear!" And he laughed at his rough little joke. 

"Do I?" asked the girl absently. 

But Ghyrkins was not to be repressed, and as Kildare and the Pegnuggerman were gay and wide awake, the dinner was not as dull as might havebeen expected. When it was over, Isaacs announced his intention ofleaving early the next morning. Very urgent business recalled himsuddenly, he explained. A messenger had arrived just before dinner. Hemust leave without fail in the morning. Miss Westonbaugh of course wasforewarned; but the others were not. Lord Steepleton Kildare, in the actof lighting a cheroot, dropped the vesuvian incontinently, and stoodstaring at Isaacs with an indescribable expression of empty wonder inhis face, while the match sputtered and smouldered and died away in thegrass by the door. John Westonhaugh, who liked Isaacs sincerely, and hadprobably contemplated the possibility of the latter marrying Katharine, looked sorry at first, and then a half angry expression crossed hisface, which softened instantly again. Currie Ghyrkins swore loudly thatit was out of the question--that it would break up the party--that hewould not hear of it, and so on. 

"I must go, " said Isaacs quietly. "It is a very serious matter. I amsorry--more sorry than I can tell you; but I must. "

"But you cannot, you know. Damn it, sir, you are the life of the party, you know! Come, come, this will never do!"

"My dear sir, " said Isaacs, addressing Ghyrkins, "if, when you wereabout to fire this morning to save that poor devil's life, I had beggedyou not to shoot, would you have complied?"

"Why, of course not, " ejaculated Ghyrkins angrily. 

"Well, neither can I comply, though I would give anything to stay withyou all. "

"But nobody's life depends on your going away to-morrow morning. What doyou mean? The deuce and all, you know, I don't understand you a bit. "

"I cannot tell you, Mr. Ghyrkins; but something dependg on my going, which is of as great importance to the person concerned as life itself. Believe me, " he said, going near to the old gentleman and laying a handon his arm, "I do not go willingly. "

"Well, I hope not, I am sure, " said Ghyrkins gruffly, though yielding. "If you will, you will, and there's no holding you; but we are all verysorry. That's all. Mahmoud! bring fire, you lazy pigling, that I maysmoke. " And he threw himself into a chair, the very creaking of the canewicker expressing annoyance and dissatisfaction. 

So there was an end of it, and Isaacs strode off through the moonlightto his quarters, to make some arrangement, I supposed. But he did notcome back. Miss Westonhaugh retired also to her tent, and no one wassurprised to see her go. Kildare rose presently and asked if I would notstroll to the well, or anywhere, it was such a jolly night. I went withhim, and arm in arm we walked slowly down. The young moon was brightamong the mango-trees, striking the shining leaves, that reflected astrange greenish light. We moved leisurely, and spoke little. Iunderstood Kildare's silence well enough, and I had nothing to say. Theground was smooth and even, for the men had cut the grass close, and thelittle humped cow that belonged to the old Brahmin cropped all she couldget at. 

We skirted round the edge of the grove, intending to go back to thetents another way. Suddenly I saw something in front that arrested myattention. Two figures, some thirty yards away. They stood quite still, turned from us. A man and a woman between the trees, an opening in theleaves jost letting a ray of moonlight slip through on them. His armaround her, the tall lissome figure of her bent, and her head resting onhis shoulder. I have good eyes and was not mistaken, but I trustedKildare had not seen. A quick twitch of his arm, hanging carelesslythrough mine, told me the mischief was done before I could turn hisattention. By a common instinct we wheeled to the left, and passing intothe open strolled back in the direction whence we had come. I did notlook at Kildare, but after a minute he began to talk about the moonlightand tigers, and whether tigers were ever shot by moonlight, andaltogether was rather incoherent; but I took up the question, and wetalked bravely till we got back to the dining-tent, where we sat downagain, secretly wishing we had not gone for a stroll after all. In a fewminutes Isaacs came from his tent, which he must have entered from theother side. He was perfectly at his ease, and at once began talkingabout the disagreeable journey he had before him. Then, after a time, webroke up, and he said good-bye to every one in turn, and Ghyrkins toldJohn to call his sister, if she were still visible, for "Mr. Isaacswanted to say good-bye. " So she came and took his hand, and made asimple speech about "meeting again before long, " as she stood with heruncle; and my friend and I went away to our tent. 

We sat long in the _connât_. Isaacs did not seem to want rest, and Icertainly did not. For the first half hour he was engaged in givingdirections to the faithful Narain, who moved about noiselessly among theportmanteaus and gun-cases and boots which strewed the floor. At lastall was settled for the start before dawn, and he turned to me. 

"We shall meet again in Simla, Griggs, of course?"

"I hope so. Of course we shall, unless you are killed by those fellowsat Keitung. I would not trust them. "

"I do not trust them in the least, but I have an all-powerful ally inRam Lal. Did you not think it very singular that the Brahmin should knowall about Ram Lal's warning? and that he should have the same opinion?"

"We live in a country where nothing should astonish us, as I remembersaying to you a fortnight ago, when we first met, " I answered. "That theBrahmin possesses some knowledge of _yog-vidya_ is more clearly shown byhis speech about Ram Lal than by that ridiculous trick with mywater-carrier. "

"You are not easily astonished, Griggs. But I agree with you as to that. I am still at a loss to understand why I should not have come or let theothers come. I was startled at the Brahmin. "

"I saw you were; you were as white as a sheet, and yet you turned upyour nose at Ram Lal when he told you not to come. "

"The Brahmin said something more than Ram Lal. He said I should not havebrought the white-haired lady into the tiger's jaws. I saw that thefirst warning had been on her account, and I suppose the impression ofpossible danger for her frightened me. "

"It would not have frightened you three weeks ago about any woman, " Isaid. "It appears to me that your ideas in certain quarters haveundergone some little change. You are as different from the Isaacs Iknew at first as Philip drunk was different from Philip sober. Such ishuman nature--scoffing at women the one day, and risking life and soulfor their whims the next. "

"I hate your reflections about the human kind, Griggs, and I do not likeyour way of looking at women. You hate women so!"

"No. You like my descriptions of the 'ideal creatures I rave about' muchbetter, it seems. Upon my soul, friend, if you want a criterion ofyourself, take this conversation. A fortnight ago to-day--or to-morrow, will it be?--I was lecturing you about the way to regard women; beggingyou to consider that they had souls and were capable of loving, as wellas of being loved. And here you are accusing me of hating the whole sex, and without the slightest provocation on my part, either. Here is Birnamwood coming to Dunsinane with a vengeance!"

"Oh, I don't deny it. I don't pretend to argue about it. I have changeda good deal in the last month. " He pensively crossed one leg over theother as he lay back on the long chair and pulled at his slipper. "Isuppose I have--changed a good deal. "

"No wonder. I presume your views of immortality, the future state of thefair sex, and the application of transcendental analysis to matrimony, all changed about the same time?"

"Don't be unreasonable, " he answered. "It all dates from that eveningwhen I had that singular fit and the vision I related to you. I havenever been the same man since; and I am glad of it. I now believe womento be much more adorable than you painted them, and not half enoughadored. " Suddenly he dropped the extremely English manner which hegenerally affected in the idiom and construction of his speech, anddropped back into something more like his own language. "The star thatwas over my life is over it no longer. I have no life-star any longer. The jewel of the southern sky withdraws his light, paling before thewhite gold from the northern land. The gold that shall be mine throughall the cycles of the sun, the gold that neither man nor monarch shalltake from me. What have I to do with stars in heaven? Is not my starcome down to earth to abide with me through life? And when life is overand the scroll is full, shall not my star bear me hence, beyond thefiery foot-bridge, beyond the paradise of my people and its senselesssensuality of houris and strong wine? Beyond the very memory of limitedand bounded life, to that life eternal where there is neither limit, norbound, nor sorrow? Shall our two souls not unite and be one soul to roamthrough the countless circles of revolving outer space? Not throughyears, or for times, or for ages--but for ever? The light of life iswoman, the love of life is the love of woman; the light that pales not, the life that cannot die, the love that can know not any ending; _my_light, _my_ life, and _my_ love!" His whole soul was in his voice, andhis whole heart; the twining white fingers, the half-closed eyes, andthe passionate quivering tone, told all he had left unsaid. It wassurely a high and a noble thing that he felt, worthy of the man in hisbeauty of mind and body. He loved an ideal, revealed to him, as hethought, in the shape of the fair English girl; he worshipped his idealthrough her, without a thought that he could be mistaken. Happy man!Perhaps he had a better chance of going through life without any cruelrevelation of his mistake than falls to the lot of most lovers, for shewas surpassingly beautiful, and most good and true hearted. But are notpeople always mistaken who think to find the perfect comprehended in theimperfect, the infinite enchained and made tangible in the finite? Bah!The same old story, the same old vicious circle, the everlastinglyrecurring mathematical view of things that cannot be treatedmathematically; the fruitless attempt to measure the harmonious circleof the soul by the angular square of the book. What poor things ourminds are, after all. We have but one way of thinking derived from whatwe know, and we incontinently apply it to things of which we can knownothing, and then we quarrel with the result, which is a mere _reductioad absurdum_, showing how utterly false and meagre are our hypotheses, premisses, and so-called axioms. Confucius, who began his system withthe startling axiom that "man is good, " arrived at much more reallyserviceable conclusions than Schopenhauer and all the pessimists puttogether. Meanwhile, Isaacs was in love, and, I supposed, expected me tosay something appreciative. 

"My dear friend, " I began, "it is a rare pleasure to hear any one talklike that; it refreshes a man's belief in human nature, and enthusiasm, and all kinds of things. I talked like that some time ago because youwould not. I think you are a most satisfactory convert. "

"I am indeed a convert. I would not have believed it possible, and now Icannot believe that I ever thought differently. I suppose it is the waywith all converts--in religion as well--and with all people who aretaken up by a fair-winged genius from an arid desert and set down in agarden of roses. " He could not long confine himself to ordinarylanguage. "And yet the hot sand of the desert, and the cool of thenight, and the occasional patch of miserable, languishing green, withthe little kindly spring in the camel-trodden oasis, seemed all sodelightful in the past life that one was quite content, never suspectingthe existence of better things. But now--I could almost laugh to thinkof it. I stand in the midst of the garden that is filled with all thingsfair, and the tree of life is beside me, blossoming straight and broadwith the flowers that wither not, and the fruit that is good to theparched lips and the thirsty spirit. And the garden is for us to dwellin now, and the eternity of the heavenly spheres is ours hereafter. " Hewas all on fire again. I kept silence for some time; and his handsunfolded, and he raised them and clasped them under his head, and drew adeep long breath, as if to taste the new life that was in him. 

"Forgive my bringing you down to earth again, " I said after a while, "but have you made all necessary arrangements? Is there anything I cando, after you are gone? Anything to be said to these good people, ifthey question me about your sudden departure?"

"Yes. I was forgetting. If you will be so kind, I wish you would see theexpedition out, and take charge of the expenses. There are some bags ofrupees somewhere among my traps. Narain knows. I shall not take him withme--or, no; on second thoughts I will hand you over the money, and takehim to Simla. Then, about the other thing. Do not tell any one where Ihave gone, unless it be Miss Westonhaugh, and use your own discretionabout her. We shall all be in Simla in ten days, and I do not want thisthing known, as you may imagine. I do not think there is anything else, thanks. " He paused, as if thinking. "Yes, there is one moreconsideration. If anything out of the way should occur in thistransaction with Baithopoor, I should want your assistance, if you willgive it. Would you mind?"

"Of course not. Anything----"

"In that case, if Ram Lal thinks you are wanted, he will send a swiftmessenger to you with a letter signed by me, in the Persian_shikast_--which you read. --Will you come by the way he will direct you, if I send? He will answer for your safety. "

"I will come, " I said, though I thought it was rather rash of me, who ama cautious man, to trust my life in the hands of a shadowy person likeRam Lal, who seemed to come and go in strange ways, and was incommunication with suspicious old Brahmin jugglers. But I trusted Isaacsbetter than his adept friend. 

"I suppose, " I said, vaguely hoping there might yet be a possibility ofdetaining him, "that there is no way of doing this business so that youcould remain here. "

"No, friend Griggs. If there were any other way, I would not go now. Iwould not go to-day, of all days in the year--of all days in my life. There is no other way, by the grave of my father, on whom be the peaceof Allah. " So we went to bed. 

At four o'clock Narain waked us, and in twenty minutes Isaacs was onhorseback. I had ordered a _tat_ to be in readiness for me, thinking Iwould ride with him an hour or two in the cool of the morning. So wepassed along by the quiet tents, Narain disappearing in the mannerpeculiar to Hindoo servants, to be found at the end of the day's march, smiling as ever. The young moon had set some time before, but the starswere bright, though it was dark under the trees. 

Twenty yards beyond the last tent, a dark figure swept suddenly out fromthe blackness and laid a hand on Isaacs' rein. He halted and bent over, and I heard some whispering. It only lasted a moment, and the figureshot away again. I was sure I heard something like a kiss, in the gloom, and there was a most undeniable smell of roses in the air. I held mypeace, though I was astonished. I could not have believed her capable ofit. Lying in wait in the dusk of the morning to give her lover a kissand a rose and a parting word. She must have taken me for his servant inthe dark. 

"Griggs, " said Isaacs as we parted some six or seven miles fartheron, --"an odd thing happened this morning. I have left something more inyour keeping than money. "

"I know. Trust me. Good-bye, " and he cantered off. 

I confess I was very dejected and low-spirited when I came back intocamp. My acquaintance with Isaacs, so suddenly grown into intimacy, hadbecome a part of my life. I felt a sort of devotion to him that I hadnever felt for any man in my life before. I would rather have gone withhim to Keitung, for a presentiment told me there was trouble in thewind. He had not talked to me about the Baithopoor intrigue, foreverything was as much settled beforehand as it was possible to settleanything. There was nothing to be said, for all that was to come wasaction; but I knew Isaacs distrusted the maharajah, and that without RamLal's assistance--of whatever nature that might prove to be--he wouldnot have ventured to go alone to such a tryst. 

When I returned the camp was all alive, for it was nearly seven o'clock. Kildare and the collector, my servant said, had gone off on _tats_ toshoot some small game. Mr. Ghyrkins was occupied with the shikarries inthe stretching and dressing of the skin he had won the previous day. Neither Miss Westonhaugh nor her brother had been seen. So I dressed andrested myself and had some tea, and sat wondering what the camp would belike without Isaacs, who, to me and to one other person, wasemphatically, as Ghyrkins had said the night before, the life of theparty. The weather was not so warm as on the previous day, and I wasdebating whether I should not try and induce the younger men to go andstick a pig--the shikarry said there were plenty in some place he knewof--or whether I should settle myself in the dining-tent for a long daywith my books, when the arrival of a mounted messenger with some lettersfrom the distant post-office decided me in favour of the more peacefuldisposition of my time. So I glanced at the papers, and assured myselfthat the English were going deeper and deeper into the mire ofdifficulties and reckless expenditure that characterised their campaignin Afghanistan in the autumn of 1879; and when I had assured myself, furthermore, by the perusal of a request for the remittance of twentypounds, that my nephew, the only relation, male or female, that I havein the world, had not come to the untimely death he so richly deserved, I fell to considering what book I should read. And from one thing toanother, I found myself established about ten o'clock at the table inthe dining-tent, with Miss Westonhaugh at one side, worsted work, writing materials and all, just as she had been at the same table a weekor so before. At her request I had continued my writing when she camein. I was finishing off a column of a bloodthirsty article for the_Howler_; it probably would come near enough to the mark, for in Indiayou may print a leader anywhere within a month of its being written, andif it was hot enough to begin with, it will still answer the purpose. Journalism is not so rapid in its requirements as in New York, but, onthe other hand, it is more lucrative. 

"Mr. Griggs, are you _very_ busy?"

"Oh dear, no--nothing to speak of, " I went on writing--theunprecedented--folly--the--blatant--charlatanism----

"Mr. Griggs, do you understand these things?"

----Lord Beaconsfield's--"I think so, Miss Westonhaugh"--Afghanpolicy----There, I thought, I think that would rouse Mr. Currie Ghyrkins, if he ever saw it, which Itrust he never will. I had done, and I folded the numbered sheets in anoblong bundle. 

"I beg your pardon, Miss Westonhaugh; I was just finishing a sentence. Iam quite at your service. "

"Oh no! I see you are too busy. "

"Not in the least, I assure you. Is it that tangled skein? Let me helpyou. "

"Oh thank you. It is so tiresome, and I am not in the least inclined tobe industrious. "

I took the wool and set to work. It was very easy, after all; I pulledthe loops through, and back again and through from the other side, and Ifound the ends, and began to wind it up on a piece of paper. It issingular, though, how the unaided wool can tie itself into every kind ofa knot--reef, carrick bend, bowline, bowline in a bight, not to mentiona variety of hitches and indescribable perversions of entanglement. Iwas getting on very well, though. I looked up at her face, pale andweary with a sleepless night, but beautiful--ah yes--beautiful beyondcompare. She smiled faintly. 

"You are very clever with your fingers. Where did you learn it? Have youa sister who makes you wind her wool for her at home?"

"No. I have no sister. I went to sea once upon a time. "

"Were you ever in the navy, Mr. Griggs?"

"Oh no. I went before the mast. "

"But you would not learn to unravel wool before the mast. I suppose yourmother taught you when you were small--if you ever were small. "

"I never had a mother that I can remember--I learned to do all thosethings at sea. "

"Forgive me, " she said, guessing she had struck some tender chord in myexistence. "What an odd life you must have had. "

"Perhaps. I never had any relations that I can remember, except abrother, much older than I. He died years ago, and his son is my onlyliving relation. I was born in Italy. "

"But when did you learn so many things? You seem to know every languageunder the sun. "

"I had a good education when I got ashore. Some one was very kind to me, and I had learned Latin and Greek in the common school in Rome before Iran away to sea. "

I answered her questions reluctantly. I did not want to talk about myhistory, especially to a girl like her. I suppose she saw mydisinclination, for as I handed her the card with the wool neatly woundon it, she thanked me and presently changed the subject, or at leastshifted the ground. 

"There is something so free about the life of an adventurer--I mean aman who wanders about doing brave things. If I were a man I would be anadventurer like you. "

"Not half so much of an adventurer, as you call it, as our friend whowent off this morning. "

It was the first mention of Isaacs since his departure. I had said thething inadvertently, for I would not have done anything to increase hertrouble for the world. She leaned back, dropping her hands with her workin her lap, and stared straight out through the doorway, as pale asdeath--pale as only fair-skinned people are when they are ill, or hurt. She sat quite still. I wondered if she were ill, or if it were onlyIsaacs' going that had wrought this change in her brilliant looks. "Would you like me to read something to you, Miss Westonhaugh? Here is acomparatively new book--_The Light of Asia_, by Mr. Edwin Arnold. It isa poem about India. Would it give you any pleasure?" She guessed thekind intention, and a little shadow of a smile passed over her lips. 

"You are so kind, Mr. Griggs. Please, you are so very kind. "

I began to read, and read on and on through the exquisite rise and fallof the stanzas, through the beautiful clear high thoughts which seem tocome as a breath and a breeze from an unattainable heaven, from theNirvana we all hope for in our inmost hearts, whatever our confession offaith. And the poor girl was soothed, and touched and lulled by themusic of thought and the sigh of verse that is in the poem; and themorning passed. I suppose the quiet and the poetry wrought up in her thefeeling of confidence she felt in me, as being her lover's friend, forafter I had paused a minute or two, seeing some one coming toward thetent, she said quite simply--

"Where is he gone?"

"He is gone to do a very noble deed. He is gone to save the life of aman he never saw. " A bright light came into her face, and all thechilled heart's blood, driven from her cheeks by the weariness of herfirst parting, rushed joyously back, and for one moment there dwelt onher features the glory and bloom of the love and happiness that had beenhers all day yesterday, that would be hers again--when? Poor MissWestonhaugh, it seemed so long to wait. 

The day passed somehow, but the dinner was dismal. Miss Westonhaugh wasevidently far from well, and I could not conceive that the pain of atemporary parting should make so sudden a change in one so perfectlystrong and healthy--even were her nature ever so sensitive. Kildare andthe Pegnugger magistrate tried to keep up the spirits of the party, butJohn Westonhaugh was anxious about his sister, and even old Mr. CurrieGhyrkins was beginning to fancy there must be something wrong. We satsmoking outside, and the young girl refused to leave us, though Johnbegged her to. As we sat, it may have been half an hour after dinner, amessenger came galloping up in hot haste, and leaping to the groundasked for "Gurregis Sahib, " with the usual native pronunciation of myeuphonious name. Being informed, he salaamed low and handed me a letter, which I took to the light. It was in _shikast_ Persian, and signed"Abdul Hafiz-ben-Isâk. " "Ram Lal, " he said, "has met me unexpectedly, and sends you this by his own means, which are swift as the flight ofthe eagle. It is indispensable that you meet us below Keitung, towardsSultanpoor, on the afternoon of the day when the moon is full. Travel byJulinder and Sultanpoor; you will easily overtake me, since I go bySimla. For friendship's sake, for love's sake, come. It is life anddeath. Give the money to the Irishman. Peace be with you. "

I sighed a sigh of the most undetermined description. Was I glad torejoin my friend? or was I pained to leave the woman he loved in herpresent condition? I hardly knew. 

"I think we had all better go back to Simla, " said John, when Iexplained that the most urgent business called me away at dawn. 

"There will be none of us left soon, " said Ghyrkins quite quietly andmournfully. 

I found means to let Miss Westonhaugh understand where I was going. Igave Kildare the money in charge. 

In the dark of the morning, as I cleared the tents, the same shadow Ihad seen before shot out and laid a hand on my rein. I halted on thesame spot where Isaacs had drawn rein twenty-four hours before. 

"Give him this from me. God be with you!" She was gone in a moment, leaving a small package in my right hand. I thrust it in my bosom androde away. 

"How she loves him, " I thought, wondering greatly. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER XII. 

It was not an agreeable journey I had undertaken. In order to reach theinaccessible spot, chosen by Isaacs for the scene of Shere Ali'sliberation, in time to be of any use, it was necessary that I shouldtravel by a more direct and arduous route than that taken by my friend. He had returned to Simla, and by his carefully made arrangements wouldbe able to reach Keitung, or the spot near it, where the transaction wasto take place, by constant changes of horses where riding was possible, and by a strong body of dooly-bearers wherever the path should prove toosteep for four-footed beasts of burden. I, on the other hand, must leavethe road at Julinder, a place I had never visited, and must trust to myown unaided wits and a plentiful supply of rupees to carry me over atleast two hundred miles of country I did not know--difficult certainly, and perhaps impracticable for riding. The prospect was not a pleasantone, but I was convinced that in a matter of this importance a man ofIsaacs' wit and wealth would have made at least some preliminaryarrangements for me, since he probably knew the country well enoughhimself. I had but six days at the outside to reach my destination. 

I had resolved to take one servant, Kiramat Ali, with me as far asJulinder, whence I would send him back to Simla with what slenderluggage we carried, for I meant to ride as light as possible, with noencumbrance to delay me when once I left the line of the railway. Imight have ridden five miles with Kiramat Ali behind me on a sturdy_tat_, when I was surprised by the appearance of an unknown saice inplain white clothes, holding a pair of strong young ponies by the halterand salaaming low. 

"Pundit Ram Lal sends your highness his peace, and bids you ride withoutsparing. The _dâk_ is laid to the fire-carriages. "

The saddles were changed in a moment, Kiramat Ali and I assisting in theoperation. It was clear that Ram Lal's messengers were swift, for evenif he had met Isaacs when the latter reached the railroad, no ordinaryhorse could have returned with the message at the time I had receivedit. Still less would any ordinary Hindus be capable of laying a _dâk_, or post route of relays, over a hundred miles long in twelve hours. Onceprepared, it was a mere matter of physical endurance in the rider tocover the ground, for the relays were stationed every five or six miles. It was well known that Lord Steepleton Kildare had lately ridden fromSimla to Umballa one night and back the next day, ninety-two miles eachway, with constant change of cattle. What puzzled me was the rapiditywith which the necessary dispositions had been made. On the whole, I wasreassured. If Ram Lal had been able to prepare my way at such shortnotice here, with two more days at his disposal he would doubtlesssucceed in laying me a _dâk_ most of the way from Julinder to Keitung. Iwill not dwell upon the details of the journey. I reached the railroadand prepared for forty-eight hours of jolting and jostling and brokensleep. It is true that railway travelling is nowhere so luxurious as inIndia, where a carriage has but two compartments, each holding as a ruleonly two persons, though four can be accommodated by means of hangingberths. Each compartment has a spacious bathroom attached, where you maybathe as often as you please, and there are various contrivances forventilating and cooling the air. Nevertheless the heat is sometimesunbearable, and a journey from Bombay to Calcutta direct during the warmmonths is a severe trial to the strongest constitution. On this occasionI had about forty-eight hours to travel, and I was resolved to get allthe rest in that time that the jolting made possible; for I knew thatonce in the saddle again it might be days before I got a night's sleep. And so we rumbled along, through the vast fields of sugar-cane, nowmostly tied in huge sheaves upright, through boundless stretches ofrichly-cultivated soil, intersected with the regularity of a chess-boardby the rivulets and channels of a laborious irrigation. Here and therestood the high frames made by planting four bamboos in a square andwickering the top, whereon the ryots sit when the crops are ripening, towatch against thieves and cattle, and to drive away the birds of theair. On we spun, past Meerut and Mozuffernugger, past Umballa andLoodhiana, till we reached our station of Julinder at dawn. Descendingfrom the train, I was about to begin making inquiries about my nextmove, when I was accosted by a tall and well-dressed Mussulman, in aplain cloth _caftán_ and a white turban, but exquisitely clean and freshlooking, as it seemed to me, for my eyes were smarting with dust andwearied with the perpetual shaking of the train. 

The courteous native soon explained that he was Isaacs' agent inJulinder, and that a _târ ki khaber_, a telegram in short, had warnedhim to be on the lookout for me. I was greatly relieved, for it wasevident that every arrangement had been made for my comfort, so far ascomfort was possible. Isaacs had asked my assistance, but he had takenevery precaution against all superfluous bodily inconvenience to me, andI felt sure that from this point I should move quickly and easilythrough every difficulty. And so it proved. The Mussulman took me to hishouse, where there was a spacious apartment, occupied by Isaacs when hepassed that way. Every luxury was prepared for the enjoyment of thebath, and a breakfast of no mean taste was served me in my own room. Then my host entered and explained that he had been directed to makecertain arrangements for my journey. He had laid a _dâk_ nearly ahundred miles ahead, and had been ordered to tell me that similar stepshad been taken beyond that point as far as my ultimate destination, ofwhich, however, he was ignorant. My servant, he said, must stay with himand return to Simla with my traps. 

So an hour later I mounted for my long ride, provided with a revolverand some rupees in a bag, in case of need. The country, my entertainerinformed me, was considered perfectly safe, unless I feared the _tap_, the bad kind of fever which infests all the country at the base of thehills. I was not afraid of this. My experience is that some people arepredisposed to fever, and will generally be attacked by it in theirfirst year in India, whether they are much exposed to it or not, whileothers seem naturally proof against any amount of malaria, and thoughthey sleep out of doors through the whole rainy season, and tramp aboutthe jungles in the autumn, will never catch the least ague, though theymay have all other kinds of ills to contend with. 

On and on, galloping along the heavy roads, sometimes over no road atall, only a broad green track, where the fresh grass that had sprung upafter the rains was not yet killed by the trampling of the bullocks andthe grinding jolt of the heavy cart. At intervals of seven or eightmiles I found a saice with a fresh pony picketed and grazing at the endof the long rope. The saice was generally squatting near by, with hisbag of food and his three-sided kitchen of stones, blackened with thefire from his last meal, beside him; sometimes in the act of cooking hischowpatties, sometimes eating them, according to the time of day. Several times I stopped to drink some water where it seemed to be good, and I ate a little chocolate from my supply, well knowing themiraculous, sustaining powers of the simple little block of "Menier, "which, with its six small tablets, will not only sustain life, but willsupply vigour and energy, for as much as two days, with no other food. On and on, through the day and the night, past sleeping villages, wherethe jackals howled around the open doors of the huts; and across vastfields of late crops, over hills thickly grown with trees, past thebroad bend of the Sutlej river, and over the plateau toward Sultanpoor, the cultivation growing scantier and the villages rarer all the while, as the vast masses of the Himalayas defined themselves more and moredistinctly in the moonlight. Horses of all kinds under me, lean and fat, short and high, roman-nosed and goose-necked, broken and unbroken; awayand away, shifting saddle and bridle and saddle-bag as I left each tiredmount behind me. Once I passed a stream, and pulling off my boots tocool my feet, the temptation way too strong, so I hastily threw off myclothes and plunged in and had a short refreshing bath. Then on, with, the galloping even triplet of the house's hoofs beneath me, as they camedown in quick succession, as if the earth were a muffled drum and wewere beating an untiring _rataplan_ on her breast. 

I must have ridden a hundred and thirty miles before dawn, and the pacewas beginning to tell, even on my strong frame. True, to a man used tothe saddle, the effort of riding is reduced to a minimum when every houror two gives him a fresh horse. There is then no heed for the welfare ofthe animal necessary; he has but his seven or eight miles to gallop, andthen his work is done; there are none of those thousand little cares andsympathetic shiftings and adjustings of weight and seat to be thoughtof, which must constantly engage the attention of a man who means toride the same horse a hundred miles, or even fifty or forty. Consciousthat a fresh mount awaits him, he sits back lazily and never eases hisweight for a moment; before he has gone thirty miles he will kick hisfeet out of the stirrups about once in twenty minutes, and if he has forthe moment a quiet old stager who does not mind tricks, he will probablyfetch one leg over and go a few miles sitting sideways. He will go tosleep once or twice, and wake up apparently in the very act tofall--though I believe that a man will sleep at a full gallop and neverloosen his knees until the moment of waking startles him. Nevertheless, and notwithstanding Lord Steepleton Kildare and his ride to Umballa andback in twenty-four hours, when a man, be he ever so strong, has riddenover a hundred miles, he feels inclined for a rest, and a walk, and alittle sleep. 

Once more an emissary of Ram Lal strode to my side as I rolled off thesaddle into the cool grass at sunrise in a very impracticable-lookingcountry. The road had been steeper and less defined during the last twohours of the ride, and as I crossed one leg high over the other lying onmy back in the grass, the morning light caught my spur, and there wasblood on it, bright and red. I had certainly come as fast as I could; ifI should be too late, it would not be my fault. The agent, whoever hemight be, was a striking-looking fellow in a dirty brown cloth _caftán_and an enormous sash wound round his middle. A pointed cap with sometawdry gold lace on it covered his head, and greasy black love-lockswrithed filthily over his high cheek bones and into his scanty tangledbeard; a suspicious hilt bound with brass wire reared its snake-likehead from the folds of his belt, and his legs, terminating inthick-soled native shoes, reminded one of a tarantula in boots. Hesalaamed awkwardly with a tortuous grin, and addressed me with thenorthern salutation, "May your feet never be weary with the march. "Having been twenty-four hours in the saddle, my feet were not thatportion of my body most wearied, but I replied to the effect that Itrusted the shadow of the greasy gentleman might not diminish ahairsbreadth in the next ten thousand years. We then proceeded tobusiness, and I observed that the man spoke a very broken and hardlyintelligible Hindustani. I tried him in Persian, but it was of no avail. He spoke Persian, he said, but it was not of the kind that any humanbeing could understand; so we returned to the first language, and Iconcluded that he was a wandering kábuli. 

As an introduction of himself he mentioned Isaacs, calling him AbdulHafiz Sáhib, and he seemed to know him personally. Abdul, he said, wasnot far off as distances go in the Himalayas. He thought I should findhim the day after to-morrow, _mungkul_. He said I should not be able toride much farther, as the pass beyond Sultanpoor was utterlyimpracticable for horses; coolies, however, awaited me with a dooly, oneof those low litters slung on a bamboo, in which you may travel swiftlyand without effort, but to the destruction of the digestive organs. Hesaid also that he would accompany me the next stage as far as thedoolies, and I thought he showed some curiosity to know whither I wasgoing; but he was a wise man in his generation, and knowing his orders, did not press me overmuch with questions. I remarked in a mild way thatthe saddle was the throne of the warrior, and that the air of the blackmountains was the breath of freedom; but I added that the voice of theempty stomach was as the roar of the king of the forest. Whereupon theman replied that the forest was mine and the game therein, whereof I waslord, as I probably was of the rest of the world, since I was his fatherand mother and most of his relations; but that, perceiving that I wasoccupied with the cares of a mighty empire, he had ventured to slay withhis own hand a kid and some birds, which, if I would condescend topartake of them, he would proceed to cook. I replied that the light ofmy countenance would shine upon my faithful servant to the extent ofseveral coins, both rupees and pais, but that the peculiar customs of mycaste forbid me to touch food cooked by any one but myself. I would, however, in consideration of his exertions and his guileless heart, invite the true follower of the prophet, whose name is blessed, topartake with me of the food which I should presently prepare. Whereat hewas greatly delighted, and fetched the meat, which he had stowed away ina kind of horse-cloth, for safety against ants. 

I am not a bad cook at a pinch, and so we sat down and made acooking-place with stones, and built a fire, and let the flame die downinto coals, and I dressed the meat as best I could, and flavoured itwith gunpowder and pepper, and we were merry. The man was thenceforthmine, and I knew I could trust him; a bivouac in the Himalayas, when oneis alone and far from any kind of assistance, is not the spot to indulgein any prejudice about colour. I did not think much about it as Ihungrily gnawed the meat and divided the birds with my pocket-knife. 

The lower Himalayas are at first extremely disappointing. The scenery isenormous but not grand, and at first hardly seems large. The lower partsare at first sight a series of gently undulating hills and wooded dells;in some places it looks as if one might almost hunt the country. It islong before you realise that it is all on a gigantic scale; that thequickset hedges are belts of rhododendrons of full growth, thewater-jumps rivers, and the stone walls mountain-ridges; that to hunt acountry like that you would have to ride a horse at least two hundredfeet high. You cannot see at first, or even for some time, that thegentle-looking hill is a mountain of five or six thousand feet; in Simlayou will not believe you are three thousand feet above the level of theRhigi Kulm in Switzerland. Persons who are familiar with the aspect ofthe Rocky Mountains are aware of the singular lack of dignity in thoseenormous elevations. They are merely big, without any superior beauty, until you come to the favoured spots of nature's art, where some greatcontrast throws out into appalling relief the gulf between the high andthe low. It is so in the Himalayas. 

You may travel for hours and days amidst vast forests and hills withoutthe slightest sensation of pleasure or sense of admiration for thescene, till suddenly your path leads you out on to the dizzy brink of anawful precipice--a sheer fall, so exaggerated in horror that your moststirring memories of Mont Blanc, the Jungfrau, and the hideous _arête_of the Pitz Bernina, sink into vague insignificance. The gulf thatdivides you from the distant mountain seems like a huge bite takenbodily out of the world by some voracious god; far away rise snow peakssuch as were not dreamt of in your Swiss tour; the bottomless valley atyour feet is misty and gloomy with blackness, streaked with mist, whilethe peaks above shoot gladly to the sun and catch his broadside rayslike majestic white standards. Between you, as you stand leaningcautiously against the hill behind you, and the wonderful background faraway in front, floats a strange vision, scarcely moving, but yet notstill. A great golden shield sails steadily in vast circles, sendingback the sunlight in every tint of burnished glow. The golden eagle ofthe Himalayas hangs in mid-air, a sheet of polished metal to the eye, pausing sometimes in the full blaze of reflection, as ages ago the sunand the moon stood still in the valley of Ajalon; too magnificent fordescription, as he is too dazzling to look at. The whole scene, if nogreater name can be given to it, is on a scale so Titanic in its massivelength and breadth and depth, that you stand utterly trembling and weakand foolish as you look for the first time. You have never seen suchmasses of the world before. 

It was in such a spot as this that, nearly at noon on the appointed day, my dooly-bearers set me down and warned me I was at my journey's end. Istepped out and stood on the narrow way, pausing to look and to enjoyall that I saw. I had been in other parts of the lower Himalayas before, and the first sensations I had experienced had given way to those of acontemplative admiration. No longer awed or overpowered or oppressed bythe sense of physical insignificance in my own person, I could endure tolook on the stupendous panorama before me, and could even analyse what Ifelt. But before long my pardonable reverie was disturbed by awell-known voice. The clear tones rang like a trumpet along themountain-side in a glad shout of welcome. I turned and saw Isaacs comingquickly towards me, bounding along the edge of the precipice as if hislife had been passed in tending goats and robbing eagles' nests. I, too, moved on to meet him, and in a moment we clasped hands in unfeigneddelight at being again together. What was Ghyrkins or his party to me?Here was the man I sought; the one man on earth who seemed worth havingfor a friend. And yet it was but three weeks since we first met, and Iam not enthusiastic by temperament. 

"What news, friend Griggs?"

"She greets you and sends you this, " I said, taking from my bosom theparcel she had thrust into my hand as I left in the dark. His face fellsuddenly. It was the silver box he had given her; was it possible shehad taken so much trouble to return it? He turned it over mournfully. 

"You had better open it. There is probably something in it. "

I never saw a more complete change in a man's face during a singlesecond than came over Isaacs' in that moment. He had not thought ofopening it, in his first disappointment at finding it returned. Heturned back the lid. Bound with a bit of narrow ribbon and pressed downcarefully, he found a heavy lock of gold-white hair, so fair that itmade everything around it seem dark--the grass, our clothes, and eventhe white streamer that hung down from Isaacs' turban. It seemed to sheda bright light, even in the broad noon-day, as it lay there in thecuriously wrought box--just as the body of some martyred saint foundjealously concealed in the dark corner of an ancient crypt, and brokenin upon by unsuspecting masons delving a king's grave, might throw up intheir dusky faces a dazzling halo of soft radiance--the glory of thesaint hovering lovingly by the body wherein the soul's sufferings wereperfected. 

The moment Isaacs realised what it was, he turned away, his face allgladness, and moved on a few steps with bent head, evidentlycontemplating his new treasure. Then he snapped the spring, and puttingthe casket in his vest turned round to me. 

"Thank you, Griggs; how are they all?"

"It was worth a two-hundred mile ride to see your face when you openedthat box. They are pretty well. I left them swearing that the party wasbroken up, and that they would all go back to Simla. "

"The sooner the better. We shall be there in three days from here, bythe help of Ram Lal's wonderful post. "

"Between you I managed to get here quite well. How did you do it? Inever missed a relay all the way from Julinder. "

"Oh, it is very easy, " answered Isaacs. "You could have a _dâk_ to themoon from India if you would pay for it; or any other thing in heaven orearth or hell that you might fancy. Money, that is all. But, my dearfellow, you have lost flesh sensibly since we parted. You take yourtravelling hard. "

"Where is Ram Lal?" I asked, curious to learn something of our movementsfor the night. 

"Oh, I don't know. He is probably somewhere about the place charmingcobras or arresting avalanches, or indulging in some of those playfulfreaks he says he learned in Edinburgh. We have had a great good timethe last two days. He has not disappeared, or swallowed himself evenonce, or delivered himself of any fearful and mysterious prophecies. Wehave been talking transcendentalism. He knows as much about 'functionalgamma' and 'All X is Y' and the rainbow, and so on, as you do yourself. I recommend him. I think he would be a charming companion for you. Therehe is now, with his pockets full of snakes and evil beasts. I wanted himto catch a golden eagle this morning, and tame it for Miss Westonhaugh, but he said it would eat the jackal and probably the servants, so I havegiven it up for the present. " Isaacs was evidently in a capital humour. Ram Lal approached us. 

I saw at a glance that Ram Lal the Buddhist, when on his beats in thecivilisation of Simla, was one person. Ram Lal, the cultured votary ofscience, among the hills and the beasts and the specimens that he loved, was a very different man. He was as gray as ever, it is true, but betterdefined, the outlines sharper, the features more Dantesque and easier todiscern in the broad light of the sun. He did not look now as if hecould sit down and cross his legs and fade away into thin air, like theCheshire cat. He looked more solid and fleshly, his voice was fuller, and sounded close to me as he spoke, without a shadow of the curiousdistant ring I had noticed before. 

"Ah!" he said in English, "Mr. Griggs, at last! Well, you are in plentyof time. The gentleman who is not easily astonished. That is just aswell, too. I like people with quiet nerves. I see by your appearancethat you are hungry, Mr. Griggs. Abdul Hafiz, why should we not dine? Itis much better to get that infliction of the flesh over before thisevening. "

"By all means. Come along. But first send those dooly-bearers abouttheir business. They can wait till to-morrow over there on the otherside. They always carry food, and there is any amount of fuel. "

Just beyond the shoulder of the hill, sheltered from the north by theprojecting boulders, was a small tent, carefully pitched and adjusted tostand the storms if any should come. Thither we all three bent our stepsand sat down by the fire, for it was chilly, even cold, in the passes inSeptember. Food was brought out by Isaacs, and we ate together as if nocountless ages of different nationalities separated us. Ram Lal wasperfectly natural and easy in his manners, and affable in what he said. Until the meal was finished no reference was made to the strangebusiness that brought us from different points of the compass to theHimalayan heights. Then, at last, Ram Lal spoke; his meal had been themost frugal of the three, and he had soon eaten his fill, but heemployed himself in rolling cigarettes, which he did with marvellousskill, until we two had satisfied our younger and healthier appetites. 

"Abdul Hafiz, " he said, his gray face bent over his colourless hands ashe twisted the papers, "shall we not tell Mr. Griggs what is to be done?Afterward he can lie in the tent and sleep until evening, for he isweary and needs to recruit his strength. "

"So be it, Ram Lal, " answered Isaacs. 

"Very well. The position is this, Mr. Griggs. Neither Mr. Isaacs nor Itrust those men that we are to meet, and therefore, as we are afraid ofbeing killed unawares, we thought we would send for you to protect us. "He smiled pleasantly as he saw the blank expression in my face. 

"Certainly, and you shall hear how it is to be done. The place is notfar from here in the valley below. The band are already nearing thespot, and at midnight we will go down and meet them. The meeting willbe, of course, like all formal rendezvous for the delivery of prisoners. The captain of the band will come forward accompanied by his charge, andperhaps by a sowar. We three will stand together, side by side, andawait their coming. Now the plot is this. They have determined ifpossible to murder both Shere Ali and Isaacs then and there together. They have not counted on us, but they probably expect that our friendwill arrive guarded by a troop of horse. The maharajah's men will tryand sneak up close to where we stand, and at a signal, which the leader, in conversation with Isaacs, will give by laying his hand on hisshoulder, the men will rush in and cut Shere Ali to pieces, and Isaacstoo if the captain cannot do it alone. Now look here, Mr. Griggs. Whatwe want you to do is this. Your friend--my friend--wants no miracles, sothat you have got to do by strength what might be done by stratagem, though not so quickly. When you see the leader lay his hand on Isaacs'shoulder, seize him by the throat and mind his other arm, which will bearmed. Prevent him from injuring Isaacs, and I will attend to the rest, who will doubtless require my whole attention. "

"But, " I objected, "supposing that this captain turned out to bestronger or more active than I. What then?"

"Never fear, " said Isaacs, smiling. "There aren't any. "

"No, " continued Ram Lal, "never disturb yourself about that, but justknock your man down and be done with it. I will guarantee you can do itwell enough, and if he gives you trouble I may be able to help you. "

"All right; give me some cigarettes;" and before I had smoked one I wasasleep. 

When I awoke the sun was down, but there was a great light overeverything. The full moon had just risen above the hills to eastward andbathed every object in silver sheen. The far peaks, covered with snow, caught the reflection and sent the beams floating across the deep darkvalleys between. The big boulder, against which the tent was pitched, caught it too, and seemed changed from rough stone to precious metal; itwas on the tent-pegs and the ropes, it was upon Isaacs' lithe figure, ashe tightened his sash round his waist and looked to his pocket-book forthe agreement. It made Ram Lal, the gray and colourless, look like asilver statue, and it made the smouldering flame of the watch-fireutterly dim and faint. It was a wonderful moon. I looked at my watch; itwas eight o'clock. 

"Yes, " said Isaacs, "you were tired and have slept long. It is time tobe off. There is some whiskey in that flask. I don't take those things, but Ram Lal says you had better have some, as you might get fever. " So Idid. Then we started, leaving everything in the tent, of which we peggeddown the flap. There were no natives about, the dooly-bearers havingretired to the other side of the valley, and the jackals would findnothing to attract them, as we had thrown the remainder of our meal overthe edge. As for weapons, I had a good revolver and a thick stick;Isaacs had a revolver and a vicious-looking Turkish knife; and Ram Lalhad nothing at all, as far as I could see, except a long light staff. 

The effect of the moonlight was wild in the extreme, as we descended theside of the mountain by paths which were very far from smooth or easy. Every now and then, as we neared the valley, we turned the corner ofsome ridge and got a fair view of the plain. Then a step farther, and wewere in the dark again, behind boulders and picking our way over loosestones, or struggling with the wretched foothold afforded by a surfaceof light gravel, inclined to the horizontal at an angle of forty-fivedegrees. Then, with a scramble, a jump, and a little swearing in a greatmany languages--I think we counted that we spoke twenty-seven betweenus--we were on firm soil again, and swinging along over the bit of easylevel path. It would have been out of the question to go in doolies, andno pony could keep a foothold for five minutes on the uncertain ground. 

At last, as we emerged into the bright moonlight on a little platform ofrock at an angle of the path, we paused. Ram Lal, who seemed to know theway, was in front, and held up his hand to silence us; Isaacs and Ikneeled down and looked over the brink. Some two hundred feet below, ona broad strip of green bordering the steep cliffs, was picketed a smallbody of horse. We could see the men squatting about in their smallcompact turbans and their shining accoutrements; the horses tethered atvarious distances on the sward, cropping so vigorously that even at thatheight we could hear the dull sound as they rhythmically munched thegrass. We could see in the middle of the little camp a man seated on arug and wrapped in a heavy garment of some kind, quietly smoking acommon hubble-bubble. Beside him stood another who reflected moremoonlight than the rest, and who was therefore, by his trappings, thecaptain of the band. The seated smoker could be no other than Shere Ali. 

Cautiously we descended the remaining windings of the steep path, turning whenever we had a chance, to look down on the horsemen and theirprisoner below, till at last we emerged in the valley a quarter of amile or so beyond where they were stationed. Here on the level of theplain we stopped a moment, and Ram Lal renewed his instructions to me. 

"If the captain, " he said, "lays his hand on Isaacs' shoulder, seize himand throw him. If you cannot get him down kill him--any way youcan--shoot him under the arm with your pistol. It is a matter of lifeand death. "

"All right. " And we walked boldly along the broad strip of sward. Themoon was now almost immediately overhead, for it was midnight, or nearit. I confess the scene awed me, the giant masses of the mountains aboveus, the vast distances of mysterious blue air, through which thesnow-peaks shone out with a strange look that was not natural. The swishof the quickly flowing stream at the edge of the plot we were walkingover sounded hollow and unearthly; the velvety whirr of the greatmountain bats as they circled near us, stirred from the branches as wepassed out, was disagreeable and heavy to hear. The moon shone brighterand brighter. 

We were perhaps thirty yards from the little camp, in which there mightbe fifty men all told. Isaacs stood still and sung out a greeting. 

"Peace to you, men of Baithopoor!" he shouted. It was the preconcertedform of address. Instantly the captain turned and looked toward us. Thenhe gave some orders in a low voice, and taking his prisoner by the handassisted him to rise. There was a scurrying to and fro in the camp. Themen seemed to be collecting, and moving to the edge of the bivouac. Somebegan to saddle the horses. The moon was so intensely bright that theirmovements were as plain to us as though it had been broad daylight. 

Two figures came striding toward us--the captain and Shere Ali. As Ilooked at them, curiously enough, as may be imagined, I noticed that thecaptain was the taller man by two or three inches, but Shere Ali's broadchest and slightly-bowed legs produced an impression of enormousstrength. He looked the fierce-hearted, hard-handed warrior, from headto heel; though in accordance with Isaacs' treaty he had been well takencare of and was dressed in the finest stuffs, his beard carefullyclipped and his Indian turban rolled with great neatness round his darkand prominent brows. 

The first thing for the captain was to satisfy himself as far aspossible that we had no troops in ambush up there in the jungle on thebase of the mountain. He had probably sent scouts out before, and waspretty sure there was no one there. To gain time, he made a great showof reading the agreement through from beginning to end, comparing it allthe while with a copy he held. While this was going on, and I had putmyself as near as possible to the captain, Isaacs and Shere Ali were inearnest conversation in the Persian tongue. Shere Ali told Abdul thatthe captain's perusal of the contract must be a mere empty show, sincethe man did not know a word of the language. Isaacs, on hearing that thecaptain could not understand, immediately warned Shere Ali of theintended attempt to murder them both, of which Ram Lal, his friend, hadheard, and I could see the old soldier's eye flash and his hand feel forhis weapon, where there was none, at the mere mention of a fight. Thecaptain began to talk to Isaacs, and I edged as near as I could to beready for my grip. Still it did not come. He talked on, very civilly, inintelligible Hindustani. What was the matter with the moon?

A few minutes before it had seemed as if there would be neither cloudnor mist in such a sky; and now a light filmy wreath was rising anddarkening the splendour of the wonderful night. I looked across at RamLal. He was standing with one hand on his hip, and leaning with theother on his staff, and he was gazing up at the moon with as muchinterest as he ever displayed about anything. At that moment the captainhanded Isaacs a prepared receipt for signature, to the effect that theprisoner had been duly delivered to his new owner. The light was growingdimmer, and Isaacs could hardly see to read the characters before hesigned. He raised the scroll to his eyes and turned half round to see itbetter. At that moment the tall captain stretched forth his arm and laidhis hand on Isaacs' shoulder, raising his other arm at the same time tohis men, who had crept nearer and nearer to our group while the endlesstalking was going on. I was perfectly prepared, and the instant thesoldier's hand touched Isaacs I had the man in my grip, catching hisupraised arm in one hand and his throat with the other. The struggle didnot last long, but it was furious in its agony. The tough Punjabiwrithed and twisted like a cat in my grasp, his eyes gleaming likeliving coals, springing back and forward in his vain and furious effortsto reach my feet and trip me. But it was no use. I had his throat andone arm well in hand, and could hold him so that he could not reach mewith the other. My fingers sank deeper and deeper in his neck as weswayed backwards and sideways tugging and hugging, breast to breast, till at last, with a fearful strain and wrench of every muscle in ourtwo bodies, his arm went back with a jerk, broken like a pipe-stem, andhis frame collapsing and bending backwards, fell heavily to the groundbeneath me. 

The whole strength of me was at work in the struggle, but I could get aglimpse of the others as we whirled and swayed about. 

Like the heavy pall of virgin white that is laid on the body of a puremaiden; of velvet, soft and sweet but heavy and impenetrable as death, relentless, awful, appalling the soul, and freezing the marrow in thebones, it came near the earth. The figure of the gray old man grewmystically to gigantic and unearthly size, his vast old hands stretchedforth their skinny palms to receive the great curtain as it descendedbetween the moonlight and the sleeping earth. His eyes were as stars, his hoary head rose majestically to an incalculable height; still thethick, all-wrapping mist came down, falling on horse and rider andwrestler and robber and Amir; hiding all, covering all, folding all, inits soft samite arms, till not a man's own hand was visible to him aspan's length from his face. 

I could feel the heaving chest of the captain beneath my knee; I couldfeel the twitching of the broken arm tortured under the pressure of myleft hand; but I could see neither face nor arm nor breast, nor even myown fingers. Only above me, as I stared up, seemed to tower thesupernatural proportions of Ram Lal, a white apparition visible throughthe opaque whiteness that hid everything else from view. It was only amoment. A hand was on my shoulder, Isaacs' voice was in my ear, speakingto Shere Ali. Ram Lal drew me away. 

"Be quick, " he said; "take my hand, I will lead you to the light. " Weran along the soft grass, following the sound of each other's feet, swiftly. A moment more and we were in the pass; the mist was lighter, and we could see our way. We rushed up the stony path fast and sure, till we reached the clear bright moonlight, blazing forth in silversplendour again. Far down below the velvet pall of mist lay thick andheavy, hiding the camp and its horses and men from our sight. 

"Friend, " said Isaacs, "you are as free as I. Praise Allah, and let usdepart in peace. "

The savage old warrior grasped the outstretched hand of the Persian andyelled aloud--

"Illallaho-ho-ho-ho!" His throat was as brass. 

"La illah ill-allah!" repeated Isaacs in tones as of a hundred clarions, echoing by tree and mountain and river, down the valley. 

"Thank God!" I said to Ram Lal. 

"Call Him as you please, friend Griggs, " answered the pundit. 

It was daylight when we reached the tent at the top of the pass. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER XIII. 

"Abdul Hafiz, " said Ram Lal, as we sat round the fire we had made, preparing food, "if it is thy pleasure I will conduct thy friend to aplace of safety and set his feet in the paths that lead to pleasantplaces. For thou art weary and wilt take thy rest until noon, but I amnot weary and the limbs of the Afghan are as iron. " He spoke in Persian, so that Shere Ali could understand what he said. The latter lookeduneasy at first, but soon perceived that his best chance of safety layin immediately leaving the neighbourhood, which was unpleasantly nearSimla on the one side and the frontiers of Baithopoor on the other. 

"I thank thee, Ram Lal, " replied Isaacs, "and I gladly accept thy offer. Whither wilt thou conduct our friend the Amir?"

"I will lead him by a sure road into Thibet, and my brethren shall takecare of him, and presently he shall journey safely northwards into theTartar country, and thence to the Russ people, where the followers ofyour prophet are many, and if thou wilt give him the letters thou hastwritten, which he may present to the principal moolahs, he shallprosper. And as for money, if thou hast gold, give him of it, and ifnot, give him silver; and if thou hast none, take no thought, for thefreedom of the spirit is better than the obesity of the body. "

"Bishmillah! Thou speakest with the tongue of wisdom, old man, " saidShere Ali; "nevertheless a few rupees--"

"Fear nothing, " broke in Isaacs. "I have for thee a store of a fewrupees in silver, and there are two hundred gold mohurs in this bag. They are scarce in Hind and pass not as money, but the value of themwhither thou goest shall buy thee food many days. Take also thisdiamond, which if thou be in want thou shalt sell and be rich. "

Shere Ali, who had been suspicious of treachery, or at least was afraidto believe himself really free, was convinced by this generosity. Thegreat rough warrior, the brave patriot who had shut the gates of Kabulin the face of Sir Neville Chamberlain, and who had faced every dangerand defeat, rather than tamely suffer the advance of the all-devouringEnglish into his dominions, was proud and unbending still, through allhis captivity and poverty and trouble, and weariness of soul andsuffering of body; he could bear his calamities like a man, theunrelenting chief of an unrelenting race. But when Isaacs stretchedforth his hand and freed him, and bestowed upon him, moreover, a goodlystock of cash, and bid him go in peace, his gratitude got the better ofhim, and he fairly broke down. The big tears coursed down over his roughcheeks, and his face sank between his hands, which trembled violentlyfor a moment. Then his habitual calm of outward manner returned. 

"Allah requite thee, my brother, " he said, "I can never hope to. "

"I have done nothing, " said Isaacs. "Shall believers languish and perishin the hands of swine without faith? Verily it is Allah's doing, whosename is great and powerful. He will not suffer the followers of Hisprophet to be devoured of jackals and unclean beasts. Masallah! There isno God but God. "

Therefore, when they had eaten some food, Ram Lal and Shere Alideparted, journeying north-east towards Thibet, and Isaacs and Iremained sleeping in the tent until past noon. Then we arose and wentour way, having packed up the little canvas house and the utensils andthe pole into a neat bundle which we carried by turns along the steeprough paths, until we found the dooly-bearers squatting round the embersafter their mid-day meal. As we journeyed we talked of the events of thenight. It seemed to me that the whole thing might have been managed verymuch more simply. Isaacs did things in his own way, however, and, afterall, he generally had a good reason for his actions. 

"I think not, " he said in reply to my question. "While you were throwingthat ruffian, who would have overmatched me in an instant, Shere Ali andI disposed of the sowars who ran up at the captain's signal. Shere Alisays he killed one of them with his hands, and my little knife hereseems to have done some damage. " He produced the vicious-looking dagger, stained above the hilt with dark blood, which he began to scrape offwith a bit of stick. 

"My dear fellow, " I objected, "I am delighted to have served you, and Isee that since Shere Ali could not be warned of the signal, I was theonly person there who could tackle that Punjabi man; yet I am completelyat a loss to explain why, if Ram Lal can command the forces of nature tothe extent of calling down a thick mist under the cover of which wemight escape, he could not have calmly destroyed the whole band bylightning, or indigestion, or some simple and efficacious means, so thatwe need not have risked our lives in supplementing what he only halfdid. "

"There are plenty of answers to that question, " Isaacs answered. "In thefirst place, how do you know that Ram Lal could do anything more thandiscover the preconcerted signal and bring down that fog? He pretends tono supernatural power; he only asserts that he understands the workingsof nature better than you do. How do you know that the fog was his doingat all? Your excited imagination, developed suddenly by the tussle withthe captain, which undoubtedly sent the blood to your head, made youthink you saw Ram Lal's figure magnified beyond human proportion. Ifthere had been no mist at all, we should most likely have got awayunhurt all the same. Those fellows would not fight after their leaderwas down. Again, I like to let Ram Lal feel that I am able to dosomething for myself, and that I have other friends as powerful. He aimsat obtaining too much ascendency over me. I do not like it. "

"Oh--if you look at it in that light, I have nothing to say. It has beena very pleasant and interesting excursion to me, and I am rather glad Ionly broke that fellow's arm instead of killing him, as you and ShereAli did your sowars. "

"I don't know whether I killed him. I suppose I did. Poor fellow. However, he would certainly have killed me. "

"Of course. No use crying over spilt milk, " I answered. 

So we got into the doolies and swung away. As we neared Simla myfriend's spirits rose, and he chanted wild Persian and Arabiclove-songs, and kept up a fire of conversation all day and all night, singing and talking alternately. 

"Griggs, " he said, as we approached the end of our journey, "did youhave occasion to tell Miss Westonhaugh where I had gone?"

"Yes. She asked me, and I answered that you had gone to save a man'slife. She looked very much pleased, I thought, but just then somebodycame up, and we did not talk any more about it. I got your message theevening of the day you left. "

"She looked pleased?"

"Very much. I remember the colour came into her cheeks. "

"Was she so pale, then?" he asked anxiously. 

"Why, yes. You remember how she looked the night before you left? Shewas even paler the next day, but when I said you had gone to do a gooddeed, the light came into her face for a moment. "

"Do you think she was ill, Griggs?"

"She did not look well, but of course she was anxious about you, and agood deal cut up about your going. "

"No; but did you really think she was ill?" he insisted. 

"Oh no, nothing but your going. "

His spirits were gone again, and he said very little more that day. Aswe were ascending the last hills, some eight or nine hours from Simla, the moon rose majestically behind us. It must have been ten o'clock, forshe could not have been seen above the notch in the mountains toeastward until she had been risen an hour at least. 

"I wonder where they are now, those two, " said Isaacs. 

"Shere Ali and Ram Lal?"

"Yes. They are probably across the borders into Thibet, watching themoon rise from the door of some Buddhist monastery. I am glad I am notthere. "

"Isaacs, " I said, "I would really like to know why you took so muchtrouble about Shere Ali. It seems to me you might have procured hisliberation in some simpler way, if it was merely an act of charity thatyou contemplated. "

"Call it anything you like. I had read about the poor man until myimagination was wrought up, and I could not bear to think of a man sobrave and patriotic and at the same time a true believer, lying in theclutches of that old beast of a maharajah. And as for the method of myprocedure, do you realise the complete secrecy of the whole affair? Doyou see that no one but you and I and the Baithopoor people knowanything of the transaction? Do you suppose that I should be tolerated aday in the country if the matter were known? Above all, what do youimagine Mr. Currie Ghyrkins would think of me if he knew I had beenliberating and enriching the worst foe of his little god, LordBeaconsfield?"

There was truth in what he said. By no arrangement could the liberationof Shere Ali have been effected with such secrecy and despatch as by thesimple plan of going ourselves. And now we toiled up the last hills, vainly attempting to keep our horses in a canter; long before the relaywas reached they had relapsed into a dogged jog-trot. 

So we reached Simla at sunrise, and crawled wearily up the steps of thehotel to our rooms, tired with the cramp of dooly and saddle for so manydays, and longing for the luxury of the bath, the civilised meal, andthe arm-chair. Of course I did not suppose Isaacs would go to bed. Heexpected that the Westonhaughs would have returned by this time, and hewould doubtless go to them as soon as he had breakfasted. So weseparated to dress and be shaved--my beard was a week old at least--andto make ourselves as comfortable as we deserved to be after our manifoldexertions. We had been three days and a half from Keitung to Simla. 

At my door stood the faithful Kiramat Ali, salaaming and making apretence of putting dust on his head according to his ideas ofrespectful greeting. On the table lay letters; one of these, a note, layin a prominent position. I took it instinctively, though I did not knowthe hand. It was from Mr. Currie Ghyrkins. 

 _Saturday morning_. 

 MY DEAR MR. GRIGGS--If you have returned to Simla, I should be glad to see you for half an hour on a matter of urgent importance. I would come to you if I could. My niece, Miss Westonhaugh, is, I am sorry to say, dangerously ill. --Sincerely yours, A. CURRIE GHYRKINS. 

It was dated two days before, for to-day was Monday. I made everypossible haste in my toilet and ordered a horse. I wondered whetherIsaacs had received a similar missive. What could be the matter? Whatmight not have happened in those two days since the note was written? Ifelt sure that the illness had begun before I left them in the Terai, hastened probably by the pain she had felt at Isaacs' departure; thereis nothing like a little mental worry to hasten an illness, if it is tocome at all. Poor Miss Westonhaugh! So, after all her gaiety and all theenjoyment she had from the tiger-hunt on which she had set her heart, she had come back to be ill in Simla. Well, the air was fresh enoughnow--almost cold, in fact. She would soon be well. Still, it was a greatpity. We might have had such a gay week before breaking up. 

I was dressed, and I went down the steps, passing Isaacs' open door. Hewas calmly reading a newspaper and having a morning smoke, until itshould be time to go out. Clearly he had not heard anything of MissWestonhaugh's illness. I resolved I would say nothing until I knew theworst, so I merely put my head in and said I should be back in an hourto breakfast with him, and passed on. Once on horseback, I galloped ashard as I could, scattering chuprassies and children and marketers toright and left in the bazaar. It was not long before I left my horse atthe corner of Mr. Currie Ghyrkins' lawn, and walking to the verandah, which looked suspiciously neat and unused, inquired for the master ofthe house. I was shown into his bedroom, for it was still very early andhe was dressing. 

I noticed a considerable change in the old gentleman's manner andappearance in the last ten days. His bright red colour was nearly faded, his eyes had grown larger and less bright, he had lost flesh, and histone was subdued in the extreme. He came from his dressing-glass togreet me with a ghost of the old smile on his face, and his handstretched eagerly out. 

"My dear Mr. Griggs, I am sincerely glad to see you. "

"I have not been in Simla two hours, " I answered, "and I found yournote. How is Miss Westonhaugh? I am so sorry to----"

"Don't talk about her, Griggs. I am afraid she's g--g--goin' to die. " Henearly broke down, but he struggled bravely. I was terribly shocked, though a moment's reflection told me that so strong and healthy a personwould not die so easily. I expressed my sympathy as best I could. 

"What is it? What is the illness?" I asked when he was quieter. 

"Jungle fever, my dear fellow, jungle fever; caught in that beastlytiger-hunt. Oh! I wish I had never taken her. I wish we had never gone. Why wasn't I firm? Damn it all, sir, why wasn't I firm, eh?" In hisanger at himself something of the former jerky energy of the man showeditself. Then it faded away into the jaded sorrowful look that was on hisface when I came in. He sat down with his elbows on his knees and hishands in his scanty gray hair, his suspenders hanging down at hissides--the picture of misery. I tried to console him, but I confess Ifelt very much like breaking down myself. I did not see what I could do, except break the bad news to Isaacs. 

"Mr. Griggs, " he said at last, "she has been asking for you all thetime, and the doctor thought if you came she had best see you, as itmight quiet her. Understand?" I understood better than he thought. 

People who are dangerously ill have no morning and no evening. Theirhours are eternally the same, save for the alternation of suffering andrest. The nurse and the doctor are their sun and moon, relieving eachother in the watches of day and night. As they are worse--as they drawnearer to eternity, they are less and less governed by ideas of time. Adying person will receive a visit at midnight or at mid-day with nothought but to see the face of friend--or foe--once more. So I was notsurprised to find that Miss Westonhaugh would see me; in an interval ofthe fever she had been moved to a chair in her room, and her brother waswith her. I might go in--indeed she sent a very urgent message imploringthat I would go. I went. 

The morning sun was beating brightly on the shutters, and the roomlooked cheerful as I entered. John Westonhaugh, paler than death, camequickly to the door and grasped my hand. 

On a long cane-chair by the window, carefully covered from the possibledanger of any insidious draught, with a mass of soft white wraps andshawls, lay Katharine Westonhaugh--the transparant phantasm of herbrilliant self. The rich masses of pale hair were luxuriously nestledaround her shoulders and the blazing eyes flamed, lambently, under theblack brows--but that was all. Colour, beside the gold hair and theblack eyes, there was hardly any. The strong clean-cut outline of thefeatures was there, but absolutely startling in emaciation, so thatthere seemed to be no flesh at all; the pale lips scarcely closed overthe straight white teeth. A wonderful and a fearful sight to see, thatstately edifice of queenly strength and beauty thus laid low andpillaged and stript of all colour save purple and white--the hues ofmourning--the purple lips and the white cheek. I have seen many peopledie, and the moment I looked at Katharine Westonhaugh I felt that thehand of death was already closed over her, gripped round, never torelax. John led me to her side, and a faint smile showed she was glad tosee me. I knelt reverently down, as one would kneel beside one alreadydead. She spoke first, clearly and easily, as it seemed. People who areill from fever seldom lose the faculty of speech. 

"I am so glad you are come. There are many things I want you to do. "

"Yes, Miss Westonhaugh. I will do everything. "

"Is he come back?" she asked--then, as I looked at her brother, sheadded, "John knows, he is very glad. "

"Yes, we came back this morning together; I came here at once. "

"Thank you--it was kind. Did you give him the box?"

"Yes--he does not know you are ill. He means to come at eleven. "

"Tell him to come now. _Now_--do you understand?" Then she added in alow tone, for my ear only, "I don't think they know it; I am dying. Ishall be dead before to-night. Don't tell him that. Make him come now. John knows. Now go. I am tired. No--wait! Did he save the man's life?"

"Yes; the man is safe and free in Thibet. "

"That was nobly done. Now go. You have always been kind to me, and youlove him. When you see me again I shall be gone. " Her voice wasperceptibly weaker, though still clearly audible. "When I am gone, putsome flowers on me for friendship's sake. You have always been so kind. Good-bye, dear Mr. Griggs. Good-bye. God keep you. " I moved quickly tothe door, fearing lest the piteous sight should make a coward of me. Itwas so ineffably pathetic--this lovely creature, just tasting of the cupof life and love and dying so. 

"Bring him here at once, Griggs, please. I know all about it. It maysave her. " John Westonhaugh clasped my hand in his again, and pushed meout to speed me on my errand. I tore along the crooked paths and thewinding road, up through the bazaar, past the church and the narrowcauseway beyond to the hotel. I found him still smoking and reading thepaper. 

"Well?" said he cheerfully, for the morning sun had dispelled the doubtsof the night. 

"My dear friend, " I said, "Miss Westonhaugh wants to see youimmediately. "

"How? What? Of course; I will go at once, but how did you know?"

"Wait a minute, Isaacs; she is not well at all--in fact, she is quiteill. "

"What's the matter--for God's sake--Why, Griggs, man, how white youare--O my God, my God--she is dead!" I seized him quickly in my arms orhe would have thrown himself on the ground. 

"No, " I said, "she is not dead. But, my dear boy, she is dying. I do notbelieve she will live till this evening. Therefore get to horse and ridethere quickly, before it is too late. "

Isaacs was a brave man, and of surpassing strength to endure. After thefirst passionate outburst, his manner never changed as he mechanicallyordered his horse and pulled on his boots. He was pale naturally, andgreat purple rings seemed to come out beneath his eyes--as if he hadreceived a blow--from the intensity of his suppressed emotion. Once onlyhe spoke before he mounted. 

"What is it?" he asked. 

"Jungle fever, " I answered. He groaned. "Shall I go with you?" asked I, thinking it might be as well. He shook his head, and was off in amoment. 

I turned to my rooms and threw myself on my bed. Poor fellow; was thereever a more piteous case? Oh the cruel misery of feeling that nothingcould save her! And he--he who would give life and wealth and fortuneand power to give her back a shade of colour--as much as would tinge arose-leaf, even a very little rose-leaf--and could not. Poor fellow!What would he do to-night--to-morrow. I could see him kneeling by herside and weeping hot tears over the wasted hands. I could almost hearhis smothered sob--his last words of speeding to the parting soul--thepicture grew intensely in my thoughts. How beautiful she would look whenshe was dead!

I started as the thought came into my mind. How superficial was myacquaintance with her, poor girl, --how little was she a part of my life, since I could really so heartlessly think of her beauty when her breathshould be gone! Of course, though, it was natural enough, why should Ifeel any personal pang for her? It was odd that I should even expectto--I, who never felt a "personal pang" of regret for the death of anyhuman creature, excepting poor dear old Lucia, who brought me up, andsent me to school, and gave me roast chestnuts when I knew my lessons, in the streets of Rome, thirty years ago. When she died, I was there;poor old soul, how fond she was of me! And I of her! I remember thetears I shed, though I was a bearded man even then. How long is that?Since she died, it must be ten years. 

My thoughts wandered about among all sorts of _bric-à-brac_ memories. Presently something brought me back to the present. Why must this fairgirl from the north die miserably here in India? Ah yes! the eternalwhy. Why did we go at such a season into the forests of the Terai? itwas madness; we knew it was, and Ram Lal knew it too. Hence his warning. O Ram Lal, you are a wise old man, with your gray beard and you mists ofwet white velvet and your dark sayings! Ram Lal, will you riddle me, also, my weird that I must dree?

A cold draught passed over my head, and I turned on my couch to seewhence it came. I started bolt upright, and my hair stood on end withsudden terror. I had uttered the name of Ram Lal aloud in my reverie, and there he sat on a chair by the door, as gray as ever, with his longstaff leaning from his feet across his breast and shoulder. He looked atme quietly. 

"I come opportunely, Mr. Griggs, it seems. _Lupus in fabula. _ I hear myname pronounced as I enter the door. This is flattering to a man of mymodest pretensions to social popularity. You would like me to tell youyour fortune? Well, I am not a fortune-teller. "

"Never mind my fortune. Will Miss Westonhaugh recover?"

"No. She will die at sundown. "

"How do you know, since you say you are no prophet?"

"Because I am a doctor of medicine. M. D. Of Edinburgh. "

"Why can you not save her then? A man who is a Scotch doctor, and whopossesses the power of performing such practical jokes on nature as youexhibited the other night, might do something. However, I suppose I amnot talking to you at all. You are in Thibet with Shere Ali. This isyour astral body, and if I were near enough, I could poke my fingersright through you, as you sit there, telling me you are an Edinburghdoctor, forsooth. "

"Quite right, Mr. Griggs. At the present moment my body is quietlyasleep in a lamastery in Thibet, and this is my astral shape, which, from force of habit, I begin to like almost as well. But to beserious----"

"I think it is very serious, your going about in this casual manner. "

"To be serious. I warned Isaacs that he should not allow the tiger-huntto come off. He would not heed my warning. It is too late now. I am notomnipotent. "

"Of course not. Still, you might be of some use if you went there. Whilethere is life there is hope. "

"Proverbs, " said Earn Lai scornfully, "are the wisdom of wise menprepared in portable doses for the foolish; and the saying you quote isone of them. There is life yet, but there is no hope. "

"Well, I am afraid you are right. I saw her this morning--I suppose Ishall never see her again, not alive, at least. She looked nearly deadthen. Poor girl; poor Isaacs, left behind!"

"You may well say that, Mr. Griggs, " said the adept. "On the whole, perhaps he is to be less pitied than she; who knows? Perhaps we shouldpity neither, but rather envy both. "

"Why? Either you are talking the tritest of cant, or you are indulgingin more of your dark sayings, to be interpreted, _post facto_, entirelyto your own satisfaction, and to every one else's disgust. " I wasimpatient with the man. If he had such extraordinary powers as wereascribed to him--I never heard him assert that he possessed any; if hecould prophesy, he might as well do so to some purpose. Why could he notspeak plainly? He could not impose on me, who was ready to give himcredit for what he really could do, while finding fault with the way hedid it. 

"I understand what passes in your mind, friend Griggs, " he said, not inthe least disconcerted at my attack. "You want me to speak plainly toyou, because you think you are a plain-spoken, clear-headed man ofscience yourself. Very well, I will. I think you might yourself become abrother some day, if you would. But you will not now, neither will inthe future. Yet you understand some little distant inkling of thescience. When you ask your scornful questions of me, you know perfectlywell that you are putting an inquiry which you yourself can answer aswell as I. I am not omnipotent. I have very little more power than you. Given certain conditions and I can produce certain results, palpable, visible, and appreciable to all; but my power, as you know, is itselfmerely the knowledge of the laws of nature, which Western scientists, intheir wisdom, ignore. I can replenish the oil in the lamp, and whilethere is wick the lamp shall burn--ay, even for hundreds of years. Butgive me a lamp wherein the wick is consumed, and I shall waste my oil;for it will not burn unless there be the fibre to carry it. So also isthe body of man. While there is the flame of vitality and the essence oflife in his nerves and finer tissues, I will put blood in his veins, andif he meet with no accident he may live to see hundreds of generationspass by him. But where there is no vitality and no essence of life in aman, he must die; for though I fill his veins with blood, and cause hisheart to beat for a time, there is no spark in him--no fire, no nervousstrength. So is Miss Westonhaugh now--dead while yet breathing, andsighing her sweet farewells to her lover. "

"I know. I understand you very well. But do not deny that you might havesaved her. Why did you not?" Ram Lal smiled a strange smile, which Ishould have described as self-satisfied, had it not been so gentle andkind. 

"Ah yes!" he said, with something like a sigh, though there was nosorrow or regret in it. "Yes, Griggs, I might have saved her life. Iwould certainly have saved her--well, if he had not persuaded her to godown into that steaming country at this time of year, since it was myadvice to remain here. But it is no use talking about it. "

"I think you might have conveyed your meaning to him a little moreclearly. He had no idea that you meant danger to her. "

"No, very likely not. It is not my business to mould men's destinies forthem. If I give them advice that is good, it is quite enough. It is likea man playing cards: if he does not seize his chance it does not return. Besides, it is much better for him that she should die. "

"Your moral reflections are insufferable. Can you not find some one elseto whom you may confide your secret joy of my friend's misfortunes?"

"Calm yourself. I say it is better for her, better for him, better forboth. Remember what you said to him yourself about the differencebetween pleasure and happiness. They shall be one yet, their happinessshall not be less eternal because their pleasure in this life has beenbrief. Can you not conceive of immortal peace and joy without thesatisfaction of earthly lust?"

"I would not call such a beautiful union as theirs might have been bysuch a name. For myself, I confess to a very real desire for pleasurefirst and happiness afterwards. "

"I know you better than you think, Mr. Griggs. You are merelyargumentative, rarely sceptical. If I had begun by denying what Iinstead asserted, you would by this time have been arguing as stronglyon my side as you now are on yours. You are often very near degeneratinginto a common sophist. "

"Very likely, it was a charming profession. Meanwhile, by going to thevery opposite extreme from sophistry, I mean by a more than Quixoticveneration for an abstract dogma you hold to be true, and by yourdetermination to make people die for it, you are causing fearful miseryof body, untold agony of soul, to a woman and a man whom you should haveevery reason to like. Go to, Ram Lal, adept, magician, enthusiast, andprophet, you are mistaken, like all your kind!"

"No, I am not mistaken, time will show. Moreover, I would have youremark that the lady in question is not suffering at all, and that the'untold agony of soul' you attribute to Isaacs is a wholesome medicinefor one with such a soul as his. And now I am going, for you are not thesort of person with whom I can enjoy talking very long. You are violentand argumentative, though you are sometimes amusing. I am rarelyviolent, and I never argue: life is too short. And yet I have more timefor it than you, seeing my life will be indefinitely longer than yours. Good-bye, for the present; and believe me, those two will be happierfar, and far more blessed, in a few short years hence, than ever you orI shall be in all the unreckonable cycles of this or any future world. "Ram Lal sighed as he uttered the last words, and he was gone; yet themusical cadence of the deep-drawn breath of a profound sorrow, vibratedwhisperingly through the room where I lay. Poor Ram Lal, he must havehad some disappointment in his youth, which, with all his wisdom andsuperiority over the common earth, still left a sore place in his heart. 

I was not inclined to move. I knew where Isaacs was, where he wouldremain to the bitter end, and I would not go out into the world thatday, while he was kneeling in the chamber of death. He might come backat any time. How long would it last? God in his mercy grant it might besoon and quickly over, without suffering. Oh! but those strong peopledie so deathly hard. I have seen a man--No, I was sure of that. Shewould not suffer any more now. 

I lay thinking. Would Isaacs send for me when he returned, or would heface his grief alone for a night before he spoke? The latter, I thought;I hoped so too. How little sympathy there must be for any one, even thedearest, in our souls and hearts, when it is so hard to look forward tospeaking half-a-dozen words of comfort to some poor wretch of a friendwho has lost everything in the wide world that is dear to him. We wouldrather give him all we possess outright than attempt to console him forthe loss. And yet--what is there in life more sweet than to be consoledand comforted, and to have the true sympathy of some one, even a littlenear to us, when we ourselves are suffering. The people we do not wantshower cards of condolence on us, and carriage-loads of flowers on thepoor dead thing; the ones who could be of some help to the tortured soulare afraid to speak; the very delicacy of kind-heartedness in them, which makes us wish they would come, makes them stay away. 

I hope Isaacs will not send for me, poor fellow. 

If he does, what shall I say? God help me. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER XIV. 

The hours came and went, and though worn out with the exertions of thepast days, and with the emotions of the morning, I lay in my rooms, unable to sleep even for a moment. I went down once or twice to Isaacs'rooms to know whether he had returned, but he had not, nor had any oneheard from him. At last the evening shadows crept stealthily up, darkening first one room, then another, until there was not light enoughto read by. Then I dropped my book and went out to breathe the cold airon the verandah. Wearily the hours went by, and still there was no signof my friend. 

Towards eleven o'clock the moon, now waning, once more rose above thehills and shed her light across the lawn, splendid still, but with thefirst tinge of melancholy that clouds her departing glory. Exhaustednature asserted herself, and chilled to the bone I went to bed, and, atlast, to sleep. 

I slept peacefully at first, but soon the events that had come over mylife began to weave themselves in wild disharmony through my restfulvisions, and the events that were to come cast their lengthening shadowsbefore them. The world of past, present, and future thoughts, came intomy soul, distorted, without perspective, nothing to help me to discernthe good from the evil, the suffering gone and long-forgotten from thepain in store. The triumph of discrepancy over waking reason, thefancied victories of the sleep-dulled intellect over the outrageousdiscord of the wakeful imagination. I passed a most miserable night. Itseemed rest to wake, until I was awake, and then it seemed rest to sleepagain, until my eyes were closed. At last it came, no dream this time;Isaacs stood by my bed-side in the gray of the morning, himself grayerthan the soft neutral-tinted dawn. It was a terrible moment to me, though I had expected it since yesterday. I felt like the condemnedcriminal in France, who does not know the day or hour of his death. Thefirst intimation is when the executioner at daybreak enters his cell andbids him come forth to die, sometimes in less than sixty seconds fromhis waking. [2]

How gray he looked, and how infinitely tried. I rose swiftly and tookhis hands, which were deadly cold, and led him to the outer room. Icould not say anything, for I did not know how such a terribly suddenblow would affect him; he was so unlike any one else. Why is it so hardto comfort the afflicted? Why should the most charitable duty it is evergiven us to perform be, without exception, the hardest of tasks?

I am sure most people feel as I do. It is far less painful to sufferwounds and sickness in one's own body than to stand by and see the coldclean knife go through skin and flesh and cartilage; it is surely easierto suffer disease than to smooth daily and hourly the bed and pillows ofsome poor tormented wretch, calling on God and man to end his misery. There is a hidden instinct--of a low and cowardly kind, but humannevertheless--which bids us turn away from spectacles of agony whetherharrowing or repulsive, until the good angel comes and whispers that wemust trample on such coarse impulse and do our duty. "Show pity, " saidthe wise old Frenchman, "do anything to alleviate distress, but avoidactually feeling either compassion or sympathy. They can lead to nogood. " That was only his way of making to himself an excuse for doing agood action, for Larochefoucauld was a man who really possessed everyvirtue that he disclaimed for himself and denied in others. 

I felt much of this as I led Isaacs to the outer room, not knowing whatform his sorrow might take, but feeling in my own person a grief aspoignant, perhaps, for the moment, as his own. I had known he wouldcome, that was all, though I had hoped he would not, and I knew that Imust do my best to send him away a little less sorrowful than he hadcome. I was not prepared for the extreme calm of voice and manner thatmarked his first words, coming with measured rhythm and even cadencefrom his pale lips. 

"It is all over, my friend, " he said. 

"It has but begun, " said the solemn tones of Ram Lal, the Buddhist, fromthe door. He entered and approached us. 

"Friend Isaacs, " he continued, "I am not here to mock at your grief orto weary your strained heartstrings with such petty condolence aswell-nigh drove Ayoub of old to impatience. But I love you, my brother, and I have somewhat to say to you in your trouble, some advice to giveyou in your distress. You are suffering greatly, past the power ofreason to alleviate, for you no longer know yourself, nor are aware whatyou really think. But I will show to you three pictures of yourself thatshall rouse you to what you are, to what you were, and to what you shallbe. 

"I found you, not many years ago, a very young man, most exceptionallyplaced in regard to the world. You were even then rich, though not sorich as you now are. You were beautiful and full of vigour, but you havenow upon you the glow of a higher beauty, the overflowing promise of amore glorious life. You were happy because you thought you were, butsuch happiness as you had proceeded from without rather than fromwithin. You were a materially thinking man. Your thoughts were of theflesh, and your delights--harmless it is true--were in the things thatwere under your eyes--wealth, power, book knowledge, and perhaps woman, if you can call the creatures you believed in women. 

"You gathered wealth in great heaps, and your precious stones instorehouses. You laid your hand upon the diamond of the river and uponthe pearl of the sea, and they abode with you, as the light of the sunand the moon. And you said, 'Behold it is my star, which is the lord ofthe dog-heat in summer, and it is my kismet. ' You also took to yourselfwives of rare qualities, having both golden and raven black hair, whoseskin was as fine silk, and their breath as the freshness of the dawning, and their eyes as jewels. Then said you, rejoicing in your heart, thatyou were happy; and so you dwelt in peace and plenty, and waxed glad. 

"Therefore you accomplished your first destiny, and you drank of the cupthat was filled to overflowing. And if it had been the law of naturethat from pleasure man should derive permanent lasting peace, you hadbeen happy so long as you lived. But, though you have the faultless lifeof the body to enjoy all things of the earth, even as other men, thoughin another degree, you have within you something more. There is in yourbreast a heart beating--an organ so wonderful in its sensitiveness, soperfect in its consciousness of good, that the least throb and thrill ofpleasure that it feels is worth years and ages of mere sensual lifeenjoyment. The body having tasted of all happiness whereof it iscapable, and having found that it is good, is saturated with its ownease and enjoys less keenly. But the heart is the border-land betweenbody and soul. The heart can love and the body can love, but the bodycan only love itself; the heart is the wellspring of the lore that goesbeyond self. Therefore your heart awoke. 

"Shall I tell you of the first early stirrings of your love? Think you, because I am gray and loveless, that I have never known youth andgladness of heart? Ah, I know, better than you can think. It is notsudden, really, the blossoming out of the tree of life. The small leavesgrow larger and stronger though still closely folded in the bud, untilthe bright warmth of the spring makes them burst into bloom. The littlelark in the nest among the grass grows beneath the mother's wing andidly moves, now and then, unconscious of the cloud-cleaving gift offlight, until all at once, in the fair dawning, there wells up in histiny breast the mighty sense of power to rise. 

"The human heart is like the budded folded leaves, and like the untaughtlark. The quiet sleep before the day of blooming is, while it lasts, astate of happiness. But it is not comparable with the breathing joy ofthe leaf that feels and sees the wonderful life around it, whisperingdivine answers to the wooing breeze. The humble nest where it has firstseen light is for many days a happy home to the tender songster, soonleft behind, when the first wing-strokes waft the small body upwards tothe sky, and forgotten as the first glad trill and quaver of thenew-found voice roll out the prelude to the glorious life-long hymn ofpraise. The heart of man--your heart, my dear friend--gave a great leapfrom earth to sky, when first it felt the magic of the other life. Thegrosser scales of material vision fell away from your inner sight on theday when you met, and knew you had met, the woman you were to love. 

"I found you again, a different man, a far happier man, though you wouldhardly allow that. A sweet uncertainty of the future half-tinged yourjoy with a shadow of sadness, which you had not known before: but lovesadness is only the shading and gentle pencilling in love's wondrouspicture, whereby the whole light of the painting is made clearer andstronger. A new world opened out before you in endless vistas of untoldand undreamed bliss. You looked back at your former self, so carelessand sunny, so consciously happy in the strong sense of life and power, and you wondered how you could have been even contented through so manyyears. The good and evil deeds of your past life lost colour andperspective, and fell back into a dull, flat background, against whichthe ineffable vision of beautiful and immortal womanhood stood forth intranscendent glory. The eternal womanly element of the great universebeckoned you on, as it did Doctor Faustus of old. You had hithertoaccepted woman and ignored womanhood, as so many of the followers of theprophet have always done. Henceforth there was to be a change, entire, complete, and enduring. No doubts now, or careless scepticism; no cantabout women having no souls and no individual being; you had made agreat step to a better understanding of the world you live in. Filledwith a new life, you went on your way rejoicing and longing to do greatdeeds for her who had come into your destiny. From dawn to sunset, andfrom evening to dawn, one picture ever was before you leading you on. You were ready to run any risk for a smile and a blush of pleasure, youwere willing to sacrifice anything and everything for her praise. Andwhen, down there among the mango-trees in the Terai, your lips firsttouched hers and your arm pressed her to your side, the joy that wasyours was as the joy of the immortals. "

Ram Lal paused, and Isaacs, who had been sitting by the table, stony anddry-eyed, hid his face in his hands, clutching with his white fingersamong his bright black hair--all that seemed left to him of life, sodead and ashy was his face. He remained thus without looking up, as theold man continued. 

"Think not, dear friend and brother, that I have come here to dwellneedlessly on your grief, to rouse again the keen agonies that have solately burned through and through you to the quick. I love you well, andwould but trace the past in order to paint the future. All that you feltand knew in those short days of perfect love on earth was good and trueand noble, and shall not be forgotten hereafter. But last night closedthe second of your three destinies--as true love always must close onearth--in bitter grief and sorrow because the one is gone before. Rathershould you rejoice, Abdul Hafiz, that she is gone in virgin whiteness, whither ere long you shall follow and be with her till time shall chasethe crumbling world out over the broad quicksands of eternity, andnought shall survive of all this but the pure and the constant and thefaithful to death. There is before you a third, destiny, great andawful, but grand beyond power of telling. Body and heart have had theirfull cup of happiness, have enjoyed to the full what has been set intheir way to enjoy. To the full you have enjoyed wealth and success andthe sensuality of a refined and artistic luxury; to the full, as only afew rarely-gifted men can, you have enjoyed the purest and highest lovethat earth can give. Think not that all ends here. The greatest ofdestinies is but begun, and it is the destiny of the soul Two days agoif I had told you there was something higher in you than the lovingheart, you would not have believed me; now you do. It is the etherealportion of the heart, that which longs to be loosed from the body andfloating upwards to rejoin its other half. 

"Your love has been of the best kind that falls to the lot of man. Not asingle shadow of doubting fell between you. It has been sweet if it hasseemed short--but it has really lasted a long time, as long as somepeople's lives. You are many years older than you were when it began, for a month or two ago--or whenever it was that your heart firstawoke--you were entirely immersed in the material view of things thatbelonged naturally enough to your position and mode of life. Now youhave passed the critical border-land wherein love wanders, himself notknowing whither he shall lead his followers, whether back to the thickgreen pasture and heavy-scented groves of sensual existence or forwardto free wind-swept heights of spiritual blessedness, where those who aretrue until they die walk forth into truth everlasting. Yours is thefaith and the truth that abide always, yours henceforward shall be theperfect union of souls, yours the ethereal range of the outer firmament. Take my hand, brother, in yours, and seek with me the path to thoseheights--to that pinnacle of paradise where you shall meet once more thespirit elected to yours. "

Ram Lal stood beside Isaacs, whose face was still hidden, and laid hishand with tender gentleness on the weary head. The old man looked kindlydown as he touched the thick black hair, and then raised his eyes andlooked out through the door at the brightening landscape over which themorning sun was shedding warmth and beauty once more. 

"Brother, " he continued, "come forth with me. You have suffered too muchto mix again with the world, even if you wished it. Come forth, and yoursoul shall live for ever. Your grief shall be turned to joy, and thesinking heart shall be lifted to heights untried. As now the sunsteadily rises in his unerring course, following the pale footsteps ofthe fleet dawning, and fulfilling her half spoken promises amillion-fold in his goodness; as now the all-muffling heaviness of thesad dark night is forgotten in the gladness of day--so shall your brieftime of darkness and dull distress perish and vanish swiftly at thefirst glimpses of the heavenly day on which follows no creeping nightnor shadow of earthly care. I come not to bid you forget; I come to bidyou remember. Remember all that is past, treasure it in the secretstorehouse of the soul where the few flowers culled from life's abundantthorn are laid in their fragrance and garnered up. Remember also thefuture. Think that your time is short, and that the labour shall besweet; so that in a few quick years you shall reap a harvest ofunearthly blooming. Fear not to tread boldly in the tracks of those whohave climbed before you, and who have attained and have conquered. Whatcan anything earthly ever be to you? What can you ever care again forgold, or gem, or horse, or slave? Do with those things as it may seemgood in your eyes, but leave them behind. The weight of the money-bagsis a weariness and soreness to the feet that toil to overtake eternity. The flesh itself is weariness to the spirit, and soon leaves it to wingits flight untrammelled and untiring. Come, I will give you of my poorstrength what shall carry your uncertain steps over the first greatdifficulties, or at least over so many as you have not yet surmounted. Be bold, aspiring, fearless, and firm of purpose. What guerdon can manor Heaven offer, higher than eternal communion with the bright spiritthat waits and watches for your coming? With her--you said it while shelived--was your life, your light, and your love; it is true tenfold now, for with her is life eternal, light ethereal, and love spiritual. Come, brother, come with me!"

Slowly Isaacs raised his head from his hands and gazed long on the oldman. And while he gazed it was as if his pale face were transparent andthe whiteness of the burning spirit, dazzling to see, came and wentquickly and came again as flashes in the northern sky. Slowly he rose tohis feet, and laying his hand in the Buddhist's, spoke at last. 

"Brother, I come, " he said. "Show me the way. "

"Right gladly will I be thy guide, Abdul, " Ram Lal gave answer. "Rightwillingly will I go with thee whither thou wouldest. Never was teachersought by more worthy pupil; never did man embrace the pure life of thebrethren with more single heart or truer purpose. The way shall be shortthat leads thee upward, the stones that are therein shall be as wings tolift thy feet instead of stumbling-blocks for thy destruction. Thehidden forces of nature shall lend thee strength, and her secretswisdom; the deep sweet springs of the eternal water shall refresh theeand the food of the angels shall be thine. Thy sorrows shall turn frombitter into sweet, and from the stings of thy past agonies shall grow upthe golden flowers of thy future crown. Thou shalt not tire in the way, nor crave rest by the wayside. "

"Friend, tell me what I shall do that I may attain all this. "

"Be faithful to her who has preceded you, and learn of us, who know it, wherein consists true happiness. You need but little help, dear friend. Banish only from your thoughts the human suggestion that what you lovemost is lost, gone irrevocably. Rejoice, and mourn not, that she hasentered in already where all your striving is to follow. Be glad becauseshe looks on those sights and hears those sounds which are too brightand strong yet for your eyes and ears. Some of these unspeakable thingsyou shall perceive with your perishable body; but the more perfect andglorious remain hidden to our mortal senses, be they ever so keen andexquisite. Believe me, you shall reach that state before I do. My poorsoul is still bound to earth by some slender bonds of pleasure andcontemptible pain, fine indeed as threads of gossamer, and soon, Itrust, to be shaken off for ever. Yet am I bound and not utterly free. You, my brother, have been wrenched suddenly from the life of the bodyto the life of the soul. In you the vile desire to live for living'ssake will soon be dead, if it is not dead already. Your soul, drawnstrongly upward to other spheres, is well nigh loosed from love of lifeand fear of death. If at this moment you could lie down and die, youwould meet your end joyfully. Very subtle are the fast-vanishing linksbetween you and the world; very thin and impalpable the faint shadowsthat mar to your vision those transcendent hues of heavenly glory youshall so soon behold. Look forward, look upward, look onward--never oncelook back, and your waiting shall not be long, nor her watching manydays. She stands before you, beckoning and praying that you tarry not. See that you do her bidding faithfully, as being near the blessed end, and fearful of losing even one moment in the attainment of what youseek. "

"Fear not, Ram Lal. My determination shall not fail me, nor my couragewaver, until all is reached. "

The light of another world was on the beautiful brow and features as helooked full at his future teacher. What strange powers these adeptbrethren have! What marvellous magnetism over the souls of lessermen--whereby they turn sorrow into gladness, and defeat into triumph bymere words. I myself, bound by thought and word and deed to the lesserlife, was not unmoved by the glorious promises that flowed with glowingeloquence from the lips of that gray old man in the early morning. Theymoved toward the door. Ram Lal spoke as he turned away. 

"We leave you, friend Griggs, but we will return this evening and bidyou farewell. " So I was left alone. Another comforter had taken myplace; one knowing human nature better, and well versed in the learningof the spirit. One of that small band of high priests who in all agesand nations and religions and societies have been the mediators betweentime and eternity, to cheer and comfort the broken-hearted, to rebukehim who would lose his own soul, to speed the awakening spirit in itsheavenward flight. 

 * * * * *

As I sat in my room that night the door opened and they were with me, standing hand in hand. 

"My friend, " said Isaacs, "I have come to bid you farewell. You willnever see me again. I am here once more to thank you, from the bottom ofmy heart, for your friendship and kind offices, for the strength of yourarm in the hour of need, and for the gold of your words in time ofuncertainty. "

"Isaacs, " I said, "I know little of the journey you are undertaking, andI cannot go with you. This I know, that you are very near to a life Icannot hope for; and I pray God that you may speed quickly to thedesired end, that you may attain that happiness which your brave souland honest heart so well deserve. Once more, then, I offer you myfullest service, if there is anything that I still can do. "

"There is nothing, " he answered, "though if there were I know you woulddo it gladly and entirely. I have bestowed all my worldly possessions onthe one man besides yourself to whom I owe a debt of gratitude--JohnWestonhaugh. Had I known you less well, I would have made you a sharerin my forsaken wealth. Only this I beg of you. Take this gem and keep italways for my sake. No--do not look at it in that way. Do not considerits value. It is to recall one who will often think of you, for you havebeen a great deal to me in this month. "

"I would I might have been more, " I said, and it was all I could say, for my voice failed me. 

"Think of me, " he continued, and the bright light shone through his facein the dusk, "think of me, not as you see me now, or as I was thismorning, bowed beneath a great sorrow, but as looking forward to ahappiness that transcends this mortal joy that I have lost, even as theglory of things celestial transcends the glory of the terrestrial. Thinkof me, not as mourning the departed day, but as watching longingly forthe first faint dawn of the day eternal. Above all, think of me not asalone but as wedded for all ages to her who has gone before me. "

Ram Lal laid his hand on my arm and looked long into my eyes. 

"Farewell for the present, my chance acquaintance, " he said, "andremember that in me you have a friend. The day may come when you toowill be in dire distress, beyond the skill of mere solitude and books tosoothe. Farewell, and may all good things be with you. "

Isaacs laid his two hands on my shoulders, and once more I met thewondrous lustre of his eyes, now veiled but not darkened with the lastlook of his tender friendship. 

"Good-bye, my dear Griggs. You have been the instructor and the geniusof my love. Learn yourself the lessons you can teach others so well. Beyourself what you would have made me. "

One last loving look--one more pressure of the reluctant fingers, andthose two went out, hand in hand, under the clear stars, and I saw themno more. 

THE END. 

Footnote 1: Sir Gore Ousely, _Notices of the Persian Poets_. 

Footnote 2: A fact, as is well known.