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Based on a painting by John Varley (1778-1842)
"Hidden Saria," John Heritage, London, 1934
Title Page of "Hidden Saria," John Heritage, London, 1934
Frontispiece.
"Hidden Saria," Map of Temple and Enclosure
THAT I ever heard the story at first hand was sheer luck. I had been granted eight months' leave home and, on taking train to Bombay, I found as companions in the same compartment Major Simonds and Lieutenant Erskine; the former I had met when he joined "Intelligence" on the Frontier, and young Erskine I had known well for the last two or three years—in fact, from the day that his regiment had moved into quarters at the station which was the centre of my activities.
As the train started I remarked that a long time had passed since I had seen either of them; then that I wondered if Jerks Erskine had somehow achieved permanent leave, as I knew for certain he had not been near his regiment for about a year, and I had not heard of his being seconded; I continued that, when I came to think of it, Terrant, his alter ego, had disappeared at much the same time and had never shown up since; and that really this strange series of facts needed investigating.
Erskine looked across at Simonds inquiringly and, after a moment's hesitation, mumbled something about language leave. But Simonds cut in—and I can still clearly recall his words, "Now look here, Halford; you're of a nasty, suspicious nature and I don't trust your inquisitive habits an inch; if we'd had any luck at all we'd never have met you now,—and you'd never have thought of us otherwise. As it is, I can't have a bloated newspaper man nosing about our doings: I believe you've got some decent instincts somewhere in your make-up," and he smiled quite nicely, "so we'll tell you a story that I think will make you sit up;—but only on condition that you will give your oath never to repeat or refer to it in any way without permission from one of us. Political and personal interests are involved,—as you will soon see for yourself. I admit to you quite frankly that I'm afraid you may hear rumours which you will make a pretty story of; so I propose telling you the truth and stopping you in that way: how about it?"
I never noticed that long and boring journey from Peshawar to Bombay. I listened to a story that held me from beginning to end: at times, mentally halting at hearing such things, and then breathlessly catching up the narrative with the remembrance that it was Major Simonds who was coldly relating these events; events such as are incomprehensible in these days of mechanical civilization.
Later, on the boat, I took extensive notes: here, after a lapse of over twenty-five years, is the result.
"OH draw it mild, Jerks!" Terrant exclaimed. "That's all rot and novelists' romancing of the East: for instance, we have all heard the yarn about the conjurer who throws a rope up into the air and a boy climbing up the rope until he disappears into the sky; then the rope falls down, or something, and the boy is found in a basket: but I ask you,—have you seen the trick yourself or have you ever met anyone who did?"
It was during the cold weather, at Fateybad. After an excellent dinner at the club, Major Simonds, Captain Terrant and Lieutenant Erskine sat round the fire and the conversation had turned to the mystical legends of the Orient.
Major Simonds is a typical Anglo-Indian of medium height, wiry and sun-baked, not strikingly remarkable to look at except as an example of what he is,—one of those fortunate, inexcitable men who refuse to be hustled; he thinks before he speaks, and when he acts he means it: a bachelor of a kindly disposition, his interests are confined to his profession and the varied relaxations—sport, games and good-fellowship—that are part and parcel of it.
Captain Terrant is of a very different type, being decidedly good looking, tall and strongly built, one might almost say massively so: his piercing grey eyes and determined chin loudly proclaim a steady, purposeful disposition and a mind that is hard to change from any preconceived idea: he is worshipped by his men and is a joy to his brother officers: the fair sex he shuns and, on this account perhaps, is all the more sought after by its members.
John Erskine, known to all and sundry as Jerks—a name that exactly fits him—a devil-may-care subaltern: usually in trouble over some escapade or other, he is at all times in love with, and making desperate love to, three or four fair ones who, for a few weeks or months, divide his attentions until succeeded by a batch of fresh charmers. Tall and, be it said, lanky, his best friend could not call him good looking, but his cheery grin, his inane remarks and infallible good humour are more satisfying to a companion than could be any regularity of features. He is "Jerks" to all and the gay recipient of the chaff and leg-pulling that are usually his lot.
All three are officers in the 52nd Indian Cavalry, but for some years Major Simonds has held a billet in the Political Department of the Civil Service; now, on a few days leave, he is spending Christmas with his regiment.
Having discussed the latest regimental and station gossip, Simonds commented on the extraordinary rapidity with which news was spread amongst the natives, and described how he had lately been investigating a serious leakage of information from the Intelligence Department.
All babus—or native clerks—involved had been watched, and their correspondence examined, but without result; it was impossible for subordinates to use the government telegraphs for their purpose, and yet it had been conclusively proved that decisions arrived at in Calcutta, and known to two or three officials alone, became public property in the bazaars of Peshawar within six hours.
Erskine had informed his hearers that he could easily describe the method employed by the natives,—that it was simply a case of telepathy or possibly a projection of the soul or subjective mind: and it was this highly coloured explanation that brought forth Terrant's emphatic rejoinder.
But Simonds was not of the same mind;—"Since when has Jerks been numbered amongst the prophets? After all, Terrant, leaving the rope story out of the question, we must all admit that telepathy is a fact and that in such matters we of the West are ignorant babes compared with the oriental: we cannot say that such an explanation is ridiculous; clairvoyance and clairaudience are now, even in England, admitted to be possible, if not established as facts; and there is no doubt that if such things are possible, Jerks' theory would explain the mystery."
"Good heavens, Major, how many drinks did you accomplish before we joined you this evening? We shall have you starting a table-turning society next! Just because a few old gentlemen, with nothing better to do, get some hysterical lady to act as a medium and insist that she is talking to or receiving messages from somebody's maternal great aunt, it does not prove that these high-sounding delusions are facts. Have you ever, yourself, come across an indubitable case of clairvoyance or clair-what-did-you-say?"
"'Clairaudience',—that is, hearing things taking place at a distance, beyond the range of human ears. Yes;—a cousin of mine is clairvoyant, and I have been with him at times when he has, in his normal state, seen things that were happening at that very moment at a place two or three hundred miles away!"
"And look here, Terrant," said Erskine, "I think we all suffer from occasional lapses into a form of clairaudience; haven't you ever started whistling or humming a tune—perhaps even in the middle of a verse—and then been told by the person you were with that that very tune was just passing through his mind? In such cases I always think that my brain hears the tune in the other chap's brain and joins in,—if you understand what I mean."
"Yes, my son, I understand what you mean, but I can't say that I agree with you: I think that it is merely coincidence, or some remark has turned the thoughts of both of you into the same channel:—clairaudience, my aunt!
"As for this leakage of official secrets, we all know what wily brutes these natives are; they probably have holes in the walls through which they can listen to what is going on inside a room; and once they have got the news they want they can surely find some way to telegraph it,—either by code or by bribing a telegraphist or both; it's quite possible, isn't it, Major?"
"No, Terrant, I don't think it is: naturally that explanation was the first one we investigated, and no stone was left unturned to discover such a solution; but it was quite impossible with the precautions we took: on two or three occasions we did not speak a single word, but wrote everything, and still the result was the same. Well, it's no use arguing about it, we won't get any further. As for the rope yarn,—I never saw the trick myself, but I think that somebody must have, as the story is so generally known: I think that in that case the conjurer is a very skilful hypnotist, with the power to hypnotize a crowd:—you can't deny the fact of hypnotism, can you?"
"No; perhaps that is possible," Terrant admitted, "but the rest of your theories are a bit too steep for me!"
"Where are you two taking your leave next hot weather?" asked Simonds. "As a matter of fact, one of the reasons for my taking my Christmas leave here was to suggest that if you haven't got any very definite plans you might care to come with me. Rumours are coming through from somewhere far beyond the north-west frontier of some marvelous oracle or deity! Very vague of course, but I believe it is supposed to be a very beautiful goddess,—that ought to suit you, Jerks,—and there is a little uneasiness at headquarters about some of the lady's rumoured intentions. I have been told, unofficially, that if I cared to go and investigate the matter I could have leave for an indefinite period; I would have to take a couple of chaps with me, and no doubt I can choose who they should be. What do you think about it?"
"Just the thing for me!" Erskine exclaimed. "I am sick of cantonments, and roughing it for a year or so would suit me down to the ground: besides which—I've never met a goddess before, and of course one can't expect to get on in one's profession without experience, can one?"
Terrant hesitated a moment and then replied undecidedly; "I was rather thinking of starting to work for interpretership in Russian, but perhaps an exploring trip in that direction might be more valuable." Then coming to a decision, he added, "I'd like to go too, if only to keep Jerks in order; with his everlasting philandering he'll probably get the expedition into trouble, but I suppose we will have to risk that. Yes; I'll come; and we'll have a jolly good shot at exposing the oracle,—probably some rather crude conjuring trick: when do you expect to start?"
"Well, we ought to push off into Kashmir in April, as soon as the snow melts enough: I'm glad you two will come with me. I know we shall pull well together—we always have. I will let you know as soon as I hear from headquarters about your leave: of course, you quite understand that all this is absolutely confidential, not a word about it to a living soul,—we don't want to have our destination advertised: make out that we are simply going to shoot in Kashmir!"
MAJOR SIMONDS, having obtained Terrant's and Erskine's consent to join the expedition, curtailed his leave and returned at once to Calcutta. Before starting, however, he told them that he would make all necessary arrangements for their leave, and again impressed them with the necessity of complete secrecy about the trip: he advised them to write to their relations in England that they intended to go off for a three months' shoot in Kashmir in April: then, just before leaving the outskirts of civilization, they would send back a runner with letters telling of their change of plans and that they were going on an exploring expedition into the interior, whence they might not be heard of again for one or two years.
Erskine was, quite naturally, vastly excited over the prospect: to him it appeared to be a great compliment, being included in an important mission, notwithstanding his youth and inexperience. He frequently discussed the journey with Terrant and referred with glee to the goddess; he had already endowed her with all the beauty in the world, and his solemn conjectures as to whether her hair was golden or Titian coloured, her eyes violet or green, afforded Terrant hours of amusement.
The latter had long ago given up all attempts at persuading Erskine that there was no such being as the goddess or that, even if there were one, she was probably some ancient and hideous hag—such arguments were a futile waste of time. He now humoured him and, if he did not prove of much value in deciding those knotty points of detail, at any rate showed his patience and good temper by listening or appearing to listen intently to Erskine's sole topic of conversation.
Terrant also looked forward to the expedition with pleasure, as he anticipated obtaining information about the country beyond the frontier that would be useful to him in the future: he was also scientifically interested in the types of tribes likely to be met with and wondered whether, at their destination, the people would be short and stocky like the Gurkhas, or whether they would conform more to the tall and rather Jewish type of the Pathans and Afghans.
His interest in the rumoured goddess was practically nil, and he expressed his true opinion to Erskine when he said that she was probably old and horrible.
Being well occupied with their regimental duties, time passed quickly for both of them: after a few days Terrant had received a letter from Simonds instructing him and Erskine to apply in the usual way for three months' leave from April 1st, he informed him that this would be granted and that they would also receive, direct from headquarters, a letter granting them an extension of leave for an indefinite period.
The major told them to join him at Rawal Pindi on April 2nd, where they would find him busy completing the arrangements and equipment for the expedition.
In due course matters fell out as foretold: they were publicly granted their three months' leave and privately received permission to travel for as long as might be necessary for their purpose: and now but four days were to elapse before they should start to Pindi,
It was Sunday morning and Erskine joined Terrant, as was their habit, for an early morning ride: he found him unusually silent and inattentive; all attempts to rouse him proved unavailing until finally he asked him point-blank if there was anything wrong. Terrant's reply startled him;—he said, "No, Jerks old son, I'm not ill and there isn't really anything wrong at all; the fact of the matter is I had an odd dream last night and, for some reason or other, I can't get it out of my head!"
"An odd dream! Out with it, old man! I'll do the Joseph stunt and interpret it for you!"
"I don't think there is any interpreting necessary, and it's ridiculous of me to think about it at all, particularly as I never did have much truck with the ladies."
Erskine raised his eyebrows and grinned at Terrant, who continued, "It's all very well for you to smile, but it is probably entirely due to you and your ever-lasting drivel about your goddess. As a matter of fact I dreamed that I suddenly woke up, in bed, in my bungalow, and—"
"You dreamt you woke up in your own bed!" Erskine interrupted. "Probably it wasn't a dream at all; probably you did wake up!"
"If I did wake up, that makes it all the worse! But you listen! Well, as I said—I dreamt I woke up and there, just beside my bed, I saw a faint, hazy light which gradually took the form of a woman; she was marvelously beautiful—wonderful—and she just stood there and smiled at me!"
"Jiminy!" interpolated Erskine.
"She was in the midst of a sort of glow of very white light—rather as if she was standing in a beam of limelight, you know what I mean—and her hair shone like burnished gold. Her face,—well, it was amazingly beautiful, but I chiefly saw her eyes; I was held by them and they seemed to draw me towards her, helpless, with outstretched arms."
"Oh mother!" said Erskine.
"Suddenly, when I almost touched her, a great white cat appeared upon her shoulder, spitting at me and arching its back: I was so startled I fell back on my bed and the fall must have awakened me. It was a dream, but even now I hate that cat!"
During this recital every shade of amazement had passed over Erskine's face; he now burst into hoots of laughter, exclaiming, "Terrant, old egg; I always said you'd get it bad some day; but I wouldn't worry about a dream-fairy if I were you; they may be beautiful and all that but they're deuced unresponsive—if you know what I mean!"
A slight flush of annoyance passed over Terrant's face, but he finally accepted Erskine's hilarity with an air of resignation, only remarking, "Oh all right, laugh away; I suppose it is a bit of a joke,—but for heaven's sake keep it to yourself!"
Terrant so evidently wished the subject to be dropped that Erskine said no more about it and, rather silently, they returned to cantonments and breakfast.
On the following Thursday they entrained for Rawal Pindi.
Major Simonds met them at the station and naturally enough was immediately inundated with questions as to the progress he had made with his preparations; he refused, however, to give any answers until after dinner, but escorted them to the club, where they had a badly needed bath, and shortly afterwards joined him in the dining-room.
After dinner, over coffee and cigars, Simonds told them how he had collected the necessary mules and porters, light tents, tinned provisions and other necessaries.
He congratulated himself upon having succeeded in obtaining the services of a fine Sikh, Hernam Singh, who had joined the expedition in charge of the transport; this man had been for many years a native officer in a cavalry regiment and in that capacity had seen much active service on the frontier: he was thoroughly reliable and should prove invaluable to them.
On the previous day Hernam Singh had started with all the heavy baggage and the whole of his command to Srinagar, where he would await the arrival of the remainder of the party.
The major explained how he had been greatly assisted in his preparations by a native merchant named Moti All, a member of the secret service, through whose agency many of the rumours of the oracle had reached headquarters: he had helped collect the mules and had carefully chosen the porters, only engaging men whom he knew to be quite trustworthy; he had supplied all the equipment,—in fact it was really he who had formed the caravan.
Now they must wait two or three days in Pindi until a man should arrive who would be able to give them the latest news of the country of their search, and who might act as their guide.
Having discussed the few articles still remaining to be procured, and anticipating a heavy day's work before them, they retired early to rest,—all in the best of spirits and only anxious to be really on their way.
Two or three days passed rapidly, during which time all final preparations were completed, but still no word had come from Moti All concerning their guide: then their patience was sorely tried by a few days of idleness; at last, however, the time of inaction came to an end, and one night they were called by a messenger to the merchant's premises.
They passed quickly down the main street of the bazaar, but it was not to the shop that their guide led them: just before they would have arrived there he turned sharply down a narrow lane and they followed him, momentarily blinded by the sudden intense darkness. Very soon he stopped and whispered to them that Moti All had thought it best that the meeting should take place in the security and quiet of his private house, at the back of his store; and that while there was no particular reason for this precaution, on the other hand it would probably be just as well not to advertise this meeting by night; it could only cause talk and conjecture in the bazaar—a most undesirable eventuality.
Simonds muttered his agreement and they proceeded slowly onwards, stumbling sometimes over the uneven surface of the alley and silently cursing as they collided with one another: they turned another corner and soon were brought to a halt before a narrow doorway let into the blank face of one of the confining walls. By this time their eyes were accustomed to the faint light from the stars and from the glow over the nearby, busy street, so that they could perceive that they were in a typical alley of a native city—narrow, odoriferous, meandering between close walls that here and there showed by darker patches where were doors giving access to the secrets of the sinister houses.
Their guide gently tapped at the door, which was immediately swung inwards and held open by a tall, muscular-looking man: a few whispered words and they all entered a small courtyard and thence a room on one side, from which streamed a cheerful light.
Moti All awaited them there and welcomed them into a chamber that well-nigh dumbfounded them by its contrast with the squalor of the lane through which they had just passed. The room was large, comfortably lofty and softly lighted by massive lanterns hanging from the ceiling: along three sides stretched low divans heaped with cushions and covered with dull-coloured silk spreads; on the walls and floor were exquisite Persian rugs and in front of the divans low, carved, Kashmiri tables.
Having disposed his guests in comfort, Moti All summoned a servant, who brought to them Egyptian cigarettes and coffee that quickly filled the room with its fragrant aroma: he then explained that Yusuf Khan—the Pathan who had but lately returned from a trading and spying trip in the neighbourhood of their destination—had turned up that morning and should arrive for this meeting at any minute; moreover, he had seemed to be willing to accompany them as guide.
Moti All then settled down with them to await Yusuf Khan's appearance, meanwhile discussing the latest news and rumours from beyond the frontier, trade and ponies and bazaar scandal. He was a knowledgeable old man and kept them thoroughly entertained;—his intimate and detailed account of how Nao Roz, that amazingly beautiful young lady from Persia—courtesan, yes, but famed as well for her skill, her technique in the nautch, conversation and poetry—how Nao Roz had hoodwinked her wealthy, royal supporter while enjoying herself with her young, English subaltern lover was worthy of "Punch",—if it were modelled on the lines of "The Thousand Nights and A Night".
They were suddenly startled by the sound of scuffling and guttural words bitten off short and spoken low: in the silence that instantly fell they listened tensely until, with a bound, Terrant sprang from his seat and out of the door. Galvanized to action, the others followed him—a mere second or two later—but already Terrant had torn open the door into the alley and was disappearing into that darkness with the door-keeper after him. And as they halted in the courtyard, instinctively, to decide whence came the sound that had stirred them to action, from over the wall came a horrible gurgle that ceased abruptly.
But Terrant, arrived almost without, and as quick as thought, in the lane, saw a writhing, darker mass in the gloom and charged into it: and at that moment the same gurgle assailed his ears. On the outskirts of the struggle that proclaimed itself he stopped to decide what part to seize or hit and then was able to discern two struggling bodies bending over a shapeless blur beneath them. He grabbed for what he thought were two necks, drew them apart and crashed together with all his might what he hoped were two heads:—his hope was fulfilled; the heads met—unmistakably; and two bodies hung limp in his hands to subside into the dust when he released them. Then a portion of the blur on the ground rose swaying to its feet, drawing breath noisily: the remainder of the blur lay still.
Moti All now advanced from behind Simonds and Erskine, who stood undecided outside the gate: "Yusuf Khan, is that you? Did I not tell you to come silently—to make no noise; why do you embroil yourself in a turmoil at the gate of my house?"
The swaying figure steadied, gasped what was intended to be a chuckle and then broke into a short, harsh laugh: "Embroil myself in a turmoil, Moti All! Why do you permit three badmash (rascals) to lie in wait for and assault a poor stranger at your gate? Thank you, sahib," he turned to Terrant, "those two were throttling me; that other one will greet shaitan with his tongue sticking out. Hey, Moti All, shall I put them all over the wall of the house opposite? Two of them will awaken later and they can decide what to do with the third!" And without further to-do he picked up the three motionless bodies in turn and pushed them over the wall as he had suggested.
Terrant started laughing, almost uncontrollably, accompanied by a snigger from Erskine who obviously had something to say which he considered to be important; at last he managed to make himself heard, "I believe that is the wall surrounding Nao Roz's garden;—what will her 'wealthy supporter' say when he finds that complication in the morning?"
"Nao Roz's garden! Don't talk nonsense! What do you know about it, Jerks?" Terrant demanded impatiently.
"Oh—Moti All told me," was the reply; which was followed by the retort, "Sahib, I never—ouch—Yes, I told the sahib—I thought it might interest him!" in a squeak from the flustered merchant.
Terrant and Simonds turned towards Erskine but could see nothing of him more than a darker shape in the surrounding darkness, and next to him a shorter shape that seemed to be clasping its middle—in pain perhaps—and rocking back and forth unsteadily on its feet. The silence was cut short, however, by Yusuf Khan's calm voice saying, "Sahibs, sahibs; would it not be wise if we were to enter the house at once?" Advice so good that almost as quickly as they had appeared upon the scene the alley regained its usual desertedness and secrecy.
Followed by Yusuf Khan they crowded into the reception room and back to the seats they had been occupying when the disturbance occurred: Terrant eyed Erskine reflectively and rather grimly until the latter began to wriggle and finally, under the continued stare, to go red under his tan: really embarrassed, he at last exclaimed, "For God's sake, Terrant old egg, why fix me with the eagle-eye? I didn't start the blinking riot!"
"No," was the reply, "but I wonder—"
Here, however, Simonds intervened, "Don't worry about that now, we must get on with the business": and turning to Yusuf Khan he continued, "What happened outside, Yusuf Khan?"
"Well, sahib; just as I was approaching the door those three leaped upon me; by great good fortune I had my wits about me and I hit and kicked two of them; the third I finished before the other two recovered sufficiently to attack me again, and then I caught their hands in which they had knives: they had me by the throat, but I was twisting their arms when the Captain sahib arrived"; and then to Terrant he beamed approval, saying, "Sahib; that was very quickly and well done; those two will have sore heads for many days, and I think that some hours will pass before they know anything!"
Terrant smiled while he and Yusuf Khan looked each other in the eye and came to an instinctive and appreciative mutual understanding: and now, while he calmly bound up with a strip of linen a rather ugly looking knife-gash in his forearm, they could all take stock of this Pathan who was to be their guide to whatever adventures were to befall them. He was a splendid fellow,—tall, lithe and muscular; fair-skinned and hawk-like, with his hooked nose and steady blue eyes set off by the black, carefully tended curl that hung below his turban just in front of each ear. Simonds breathed a slight sigh of satisfaction and asked, "But who were they, Yusuf Khan;—ordinary dacoits who had been following you to rob you, or is there a feud on your hands at present?"
"No, sahib; I don't know who they were; I have no feud just now, and who would be fool enough to think it worth while to rob me? And I am sure that I was not followed—they must have been lying in wait in the alley!"
"Hmm—Perhaps it is something to do with the owner of that house opposite; perhaps it would be better for the amorous young officer if he discontinues his visits there," Simonds suggested. "What do you think, Jerks?"
"Can't make it out, major; it's strange, very strange. Who did you say lived there, Moti All?"
Simonds grunted, but now changed the subject, and they all settled down to discuss the business in hand. First and foremost Yusuf Khan was perfectly willing to act as their guide, and he was fully qualified to do so, having returned only about a month previously from that neighbourhood: at this moment he had come, at Moti Lal's command, from his home in the mountains beyond the Khyber Pass.
With deep interest they listened to all the information he had collected on his lately completed trip; he first described how the journey had to be made through the desolate, mountainous country beyond Kashmir; how it was then necessary to cross some high and terribly arduous passes in the Karakoram mountains: and how eventually they would arrive in a valley terminated by mountains of sheer rock that formed a bare and apparently unscalable wall; yet across these they must somehow pass in order to penetrate into the country of Saria, their destination.
He had heard that through this wall there was a secret passage and that it would be necessary for them to procure another guide over this last part of their journey; the headman in the village situated in this valley could provide a guide for them—if he would.
Yusuf Khan himself had not penetrated further than the village; he was alone, and had found out enough to justify his return. It was said that pilgrims from all directions and in great numbers were flocking into Saria to worship and petition the Marble Goddess, for such was the name accorded to this powerful deity. Further, he had heard that in a chamber of a vast and magnificent temple rested a marble statue of a woman of exceeding beauty; and further, that this statue talked, asked questions, gave orders, and advised.
Rumour had it that in Saria there were about three hundred thousand able-bodied men, in the prime of life, all perfectly drilled and trained soldiers; and that they were of a strange race, being tall and fair.
Through the advice and commands of the Marble Goddess thousands of recruits from amongst the pilgrims were every year remaining in her country and joining her army: but he had heard no rumours as to the purpose for which the army was being formed.
As to the Marble Goddess itself,—all sorts of stories were to be heard; all agreed that it was very beautiful and that undoubtedly a voice came from the statue itself: some even said that at night it came to life, when it was accompanied and guarded by a white cat.
Here Terrant broke in with an exclamation but, after exchanging glances with Erskine, he turned to Simonds and apologized for the interruption, saying that there was merely an odd coincidence which he would explain later.
Yusuf Khan then pursued his recital:—he had tried to learn the history of this goddess or statue or woman, but only met with small success: she or it had been worshipped in Saria since the beginning of time,—certainly during many centuries,—but it was apparently only during the last few years that she had taken any very active control of affairs; a long time ago, however, the king had been dethroned and the monarchy abolished at her command: now her priests held all positions of state and, under her, controlled the country.
Finally—as he had already told them—the journey presented every kind of difficulty and obstacle;—mountains and desert and extremes of climate; throughout the latter part no food of any kind would be obtainable and, during the dry season, as long stretches of desert must be crossed, they would have to carry sufficient water for at least four days: during the rainy season the mountain passes would be impassable owing to snow, and other parts through mud.
At this time of year they should allow fully two months for the journey each way, and that was to say that if they started at once, had no serious delays on the way, and succeeded in entering Saria, they must start on the return journey in four months at the latest after their arrival there if they hoped to return to India before winter should again block the passes.
On Yusuf Khan expressing his willingness to start at once, Major Simonds requested Moti All to give orders for their tongas to be ready to set out the following morning on their drive to Srinagar: then he continued, "What do you make of those three men outside; it seems to me quite impossible that anyone should be trying to stop our expedition; were they just dacoits lying in wait for any lone man who might come along?"
Moti All shook his head in bewilderment, "Sahib, I do not understand this matter; it is a true word that I have never known such a thing to happen in this neighbourhood; and it is so seldom that anyone passes through this alley by day or night that no robber who knows the city would think of lying in wait there; and what should lead strangers to such a secluded and hidden way? If Yusuf Khan is certain that he was not followed, I do not understand the affair at all;—it is a pity we could not bring lights so that we might examine those men. But Erskine sahib is quite right,—that is Nao Roz's garden opposite; perhaps her supporter fears intruders and set a guard who mistook Yusuf Khan for a favoured lover!"
"I do not know this Nao Roz," said that stalwart individual, "but if I did and if she is as beautiful as you say—" and he drew himself up, smiling complacently.
"I suppose we must leave it at that!" said Simonds, and having bade Moti All and Yusuf Khan good-night the three of them returned to the club, now quite frankly burning with speculation as to the goddess.
Having settled down, Simonds asked Terrant for the promised explanation of his outburst: Terrant recounted his dream with an air of great bewilderment and ended by saying, "You see, old man, that dream sort of haunts me and I don't see why it should; you know I have never worried about women, but that woman,—well, I can see her still! And the cat! What on earth can have made me dream about a white cat? Hang it all, it's over the odds, I call it uncanny!"
Simonds smiled, "Yes, it certainly was an odd dream for you to have; now if it had been Jerks we should have had nothing to wonder about. Of course, you had probably been thinking a lot about our journey and its objective, which would account for the woman; but the cat part is odd, and the coincidence of it all is more than odd. I can't suggest anything other than that there are more things in heaven and earth, etcetera: and you never know,—perhaps you will agree with us on that score before we return to civilization."
Terrant made no reply; but he was more concerned than he cared to admit; very soon afterwards he pleaded weariness and made off to his room.
After a short silence Simonds asked Erskine what he thought of it.
"Well, major," he replied, "I don't know:—ever since his blessed dream Terrant has gone about with a face as long as a month of Sundays; I suspect he feels swindled because he didn't get a chance to kiss the girl—certainly I would: I expect he will buck up, though, as soon as we get on the move."
THE next morning everything moved smoothly, thanks to Terrant, who, after an early breakfast, superintended the loading of the tongas with the remaining pieces of baggage that had not gone forward with Hernam Singh. And Erskine had been correct in his forecast,—the former visibly brightened up; action was evidently the medicine that he required.
The start was made without any delay, and at last all three felt that their long-looked-forward-to journey had begun: the days of tonga driving would certainly be irksome, but there was movement in it, and that was the great point.
Nothing unusual or of particular interest occurred between Rawal Pindi and Srinagar. The first few miles, across the plains, were as dusty as the plains ordinarily are, and then came the abrupt wall of the "Hills", the road rising a sheer six thousand feet to Murree. This is one of the famous hill-stations from which, in one direction, are seen the massed snow mountains of the Himalayas, rising one range behind another and affording a scene of grandeur that cannot be described; in the other direction, far, far below, the eye takes in that everlasting flatness of the brown, dusty, sweltering plains and—thanks heaven for something else to look at.
After Murree there is plenty to occupy the eye and mind: the tonga swings round corner after corner, and after each one a fresh view is opened up that is certainly the most beautiful in the world. And so the hours pass until the eye is wearied and satiated: then the body realizes how uncomfortable a conveyance is a tonga, and the halts where ponies are changed are eagerly looked forward to; what a relief it is to get out and stretch the cramped limbs, if only for two or three minutes! The longer rests where meals are served are watched for as are oases in a desert. But all things come to an end sometime, even the drive to Srinagar.
They found Hernam Singh watching the road for their arrival and, with his help, were soon installed in their rooms at the hotel. He reported that men and animals were in excellent condition and that a start could be made at any moment.
Major Simonds decided that the next morning they would engage in sorting the baggage and making the final division of it into loads; and on the following day they would break camp,—a plan that would give them a chance to obtain sufficient rest after their cramping three days' drive.
This programme was followed in its entirety: the arrangement of the baggage devolved on Terrant and Hernam Singh, whose experience in such matters enabled them to make a rapid change from chaos into order.
By the evening of the next day a goodly quota of miles were stretched between them and Srinagar: camp was pitched early so as to enable each man to become accustomed to his particular duties without hurry or confusion and, after a good bathe in a nearby stream and a hearty, well-earned supper, a peaceful first night was spent on the trail to Saria.
The days that followed were each a repetition of the previous ones; the weather was of course perfect, as two or three months were still to pass before the rains should break: the trail led onwards through beautifully wooded hills and snow-capped mountain ranges, and all the members of the party rapidly hardened into that perfect condition of health which is only attained through days and nights spent in the open air with a sufficiency of work and exercise.
Sundays were given over to rest, clothes washing and such repairs to the equipment as were necessary: and Simonds having obtained shooting licences for all of them, the larder was replenished with chikoor, or mountain partridge, and the skins of three bears were added to the baggage.
By the time they had crossed the Indus without mishap the journey had begun to lose its holiday aspect: their path led them along a range of bleak and barren hills, even the air seemed to have undergone a change and it was now a harsh and biting wind that had to be met: the water also was bad and all suffered from touches of fever.
For days they followed this range with increasing discomfort, so that it was with heartfelt thanks for even a small change that they saw the track at last leading down towards a river that had been running parallel to it and which it now crossed.
Yusuf Khan informed them that while the current was extremely swift, the ford was good; they accordingly decided to cross at once and pitch camp on the other bank, although the day was drawing to a close.
All went well until a mule stumbled, and in its fall knocked Simonds off his feet; he was immediately caught by the current and carried into deep water. Erskine was close at hand and, fearing that Simonds was hurt, plunged in after him: both were powerless against such a stream and could make no headway against it: slowly at first, and then more rapidly they were carried down while the icy water numbed their limbs.
Terrant, who was just entering the ford, heard the shouts of alarm and, recognizing the danger at a glance, called to Hernam Singh to follow him to a bend in the river about two hundred yards lower down.
Running at top speed he shouted to Simonds to swim as much as possible towards this bank and then, arriving at the bend, snatched Hernam Singh's turban from off his head, telling him to hold one end while he with the other prepared to dive into the river and, if possible, catch Simonds as he passed.
Fortunately the current bore Simonds and Erskine in towards him and just enabled Terrant to reach the former, who, in turn, caught Erskine: Hernam Singh, powerful as all Sikhs are, succeeded in pulling all three ashore.
The rescue was made just in time, for both of them were completely numbed and exhausted; a minute later they would have been quite unable to help themselves at all and, in all probability, could not have been saved. By this time Yusuf Khan and some porters had arrived on the scene, and with their help the two shivering men were supported across the ford to the spot where camp was being pitched.
A fire, blankets, hot soup and brandy soon restored their circulation, and they then sank into a deep sleep: Terrant, having got rid of his wet clothes and after a stiff tot of brandy, felt none the worse for his immersion; but, anticipating that the other two would probably be feverish, he gave orders that camp should not be struck at the usual early hour next morning.
Three days were passed at this spot, as both Simonds and Erskine woke up with fever; one day was sufficient for the former to throw off all ill effects, but Erskine could not move from his bed until the third day and was then very weak and out of condition. The journey was only resumed on the fourth day at his urgent request: he was still quite unfit to travel but, as he pointed out, their present camp was very unsuitable for a prolonged halt,—being situated on the bank of the river and with no shelter from the bitter wind that blew down from the snows every night.
Now they advanced slowly towards a massive range of mountains, looming up about forty miles distant, which they would have to cross by a sky-high pass: and before negotiating this natural barrier they considered it advisable to send back the runner with the letters to their respective relations which they had written during their enforced idleness while Erskine was sick: so, at a gaunt village, huddled under towering snow peaks, they cut their last link with home and civilization.
And here trouble, of which they had for some days sensed an undercurrent, came to its climax. Their porters had been very carefully picked over from a large number willing, nay eager, for a long engagement; and not one had been chosen who was lacking in experience and good chits (references). From the start they had proved to be willing, happy and sturdy; and in a remarkably short time they had settled down to clock-like regularity both in camp routine and on the march.
But a few days previously a marked change had imbued their demeanour; from happiness they changed to the morose; they appeared to have something on their minds and became sullen. Simonds had asked Yusuf Khan and Hernam Singh if they knew of any reason for this change, but only met with the reply that while they too had noticed it no complaint had been made to them: as their work had continued to be thoroughly efficient, it had been decided to take no notice of what was probably only a passing discontent or unhappiness at leaving the joys of civilization.
But now, on this morning, after sending back the runner, they were awakened by Yusuf Khan before light had made its first tentative appearance: he told them that the porters were hurriedly packing their own few effects and seemed to have every intention of bolting; Hernam Singh was at that moment trying to dissuade them and to find out the cause of their discontent, but with no success so far.
Having struggled into a few clothes, they joined the stir that could be dimly perceived in the faint light now dawning in the east. Simonds soon found the man whom lately he had appointed head porter and with whom he had struck up a friendship during long conversations on the march. The man evidently disliked this meeting intensely and at first met the questions put to him with a stony silence; but at last his own good feelings and his respect for Simonds broke down his reticence and he hurriedly muttered in little over a whisper, "Sahib; we must turn back; this journey is cursed, and we with it, if we continue."
"Don't talk nonsense," Simonds expostulated. "Who on earth put such foolish ideas into your head: certainly the journey will be hard—but what is that to such as you and us? And who should put a curse on us?"
By now a group of porters were surrounding them, murmuring among themselves, evidently undecided and perhaps wishful to be persuaded. Then, from the darkness outside the group, came a voice, saying, "Do not listen to the sahibs, they do not know of what they speak. I tell you that this journey is cursed and by one whose curses are not uttered in vain."
A shot rang out and Simonds ducked to the whistling hiss of a bullet as it passed his head:—then Yusuf Khan's voice, shouting, "I see who it is: Hernam Singh, catch him, he is running past you!"
Hernam Singh turned, but too late; he glimpsed a shadow disappearing amongst the rocks that encumbered the outskirts of their camp and, soon giving up the hopeless chase, joined the group that was now composed of the whole party.
That one shot angered the porters—it was one thing to bolt and leave them stranded in a desolate country, but quite another to deliberately attempt to hurt or kill sahibs whom they liked—and as a result, all the influence that the man had painstakingly achieved was shattered and annulled: they certainly seemed relieved at his escape and disappearance, but they all now freely admitted that he had caused their decision to turn back by his repeated statements that only ill would come of the journey, that none of them would return alive to their homes and that he knew this to be true;—for one who had great power in the country beyond the mountains had passed the word through to Srinagar that the expedition would be destroyed if it proceeded beyond this village. And now he had run away, and who was he? None of them knew him; he had joined the caravan at Srinagar, but none had known him previously or even from what village he came—doubtless he was the son of unmentionable parents and his future was unquestionable.
And so in a few minutes, with the disturbing influence removed, the porters were all as happy as they had been at the outset and, being somewhat ashamed of themselves, showed an increased willingness, combined with a disdain for hardship, that continued to the end of the journey.
Later in the day, during the midday halt, Simonds called over Yusuf Khan and Hernam Singh; having bade them sit down, he explained that while the trouble with the porters seemed to have been settled out of hand the whole business was so extraordinary and incomprehensible that it ought to be still further threshed out in order that they might be prepared to meet and parry any recurrence, if it took place; for, he pointed out, if similar discontent and alarm did occur again and if the porters deserted them, it would mean that they would be left in a situation that would probably be worse than if it had happened now.
Yusuf Khan nodded agreement and went on to voice his own thoughts. "Sahib," he said, "two things have happened;—when going to meet you in Rawal Pindi I was set upon, and I think those men intended to kill me; and now we find that a strange man succeeded in joining the expedition with the sole intention, apparently, of inducing the porters to desert at the first point in our journey where we could not possibly replace them. These things make me to wonder if news of our true destination has leaked out, and if someone does not wish us to reach that place, and so is doing all possible to prevent us!"
Simonds replied with decision: "That cannot be. Neither of these sahibs nor myself have mentioned to anyone anything other than that we were going shooting in Kashmir: I am sure that neither you nor Hernam Singh have so much as breathed a suggestion of anything more definite." The two natives, keenly listening to every word, nodded assent. "And in India," Simonds continued, "I know that not more than three men, high officials of the Raj, know anything whatsoever about our mission. No! No information, no suspicion can possibly have leaked out. As you say, Yusuf Khan, there have been two incidents, unusual happenings, and in this last one there is no reason that we know of. Perhaps now that that man has tried and failed and gone we shall have no further trouble; but we must all watch for the slightest sign. I suppose that fellow won't come after us and try again?"
Hernam Singh answered emphatically, "No, sahib; he could not follow us without food in this country. And I have been listening to the porters;—now that he is gone they wonder why they paid any attention to his words and think that he is a badmash who was planning to rob them during their return to Srinagar as an undisciplined party. And perhaps they are right!"
In three days they reached the point from which their path finally rose to the pass, and very soon the difficulties of the advance became extreme. The way was very narrow and covered with loose, rounded stones on which men and beasts forever stumbled and slipped,—often with great danger to themselves, for the track was continually twisting and turning along the face of a cliff, a fall from which would mean certain death.
Once the whole party narrowly escaped annihilation from a slide of stones which crashed down across their path with a thunderous roar: fortunately they heard the noise of the downfall far above them and succeeded in passing the danger zone in the nick of time; but even then they nearly suffered a catastrophe as their mules took fright at the din and almost cast themselves and their leaders into the abyss below.
The climb to the head of the pass occupied two and a half days of strenuous going: on the second night they camped at the snow line, and the following morning made a very early start so as to reach the summit, or as near as possible to it, before the snow should be softened and made heavy by the sun.
Erskine throughout the whole of the climb had only kept going by dogged determination; he suffered continuously from headaches and shivering fits, but succeeded in hiding these symptoms of fever from his companions: lack of sleep and the intense cold of this night completed the damage done by his exertions at a time when he should have been in bed, and now, notwithstanding the fact that the snow, hardened by frost, made the travelling easier than any they had met with for the last two or three weeks, he could scarcely force his limbs to do their work.
At their first halt Terrant, immediately noticing Erskine's condition, which was quite unmistakable, called Simonds and Hernam Singh aside to determine the best course to follow; Erskine was obviously on the point of collapse. They agreed that it was of course quite impossible to camp in such a cold and exposed position, and that therefore the only solution was to divide the burden of one of the mules between them and to make him ride.
Having partaken of a light and hurried meal, they arranged accordingly; Erskine was now nearly unconscious and had to be held on the mule, but the going was practically level and very easy, so that they succeeded in making rapid progress.
By ten o'clock they had crossed the summit and commenced the descent on the other side of the range; and soon, on rounding a spur, a view was opened up that was as balm to their hearts. Their eyes rested on a scene of great beauty;—spread out far beneath them lay a country the very antithesis to the one from which they had lately emerged: low lying hills, gently rising and falling, advanced to meet a second range of snow-capped mountains that shone and glittered in the far distance; innumerable little streams meandered on their way towards a river lazily flowing down the middle of this great valley that glowed a vivid green in the sunlight.
Such was the sight that met their eyes, aching from the glare of the snow, and inspired them to greater efforts.
With all the speed possible they pushed on down the slope and, after four hours, left the snow, halting on a little grassy plateau where they rested and ate a belated midday meal. But, while they were vastly thankful to once again bask in a warm sun untempered by a cutting wind, Erskine's condition gave rise to dire forebodings; every hour it was growing more serious and, though not violent, he was delirious—mumbling and sometimes shouting incoherences while staring about him with expressionless and glassy eyes.
Soon they resumed their march; the descent though steep was not difficult, and by six o'clock it was finished. They halted at a spot admirably suited for camping, a small open space surrounded and sheltered by trees and close to a stream of crystal-pure water. But anxiety for Erskine weighed heavily upon them.
CAMP having been pitched, Erskine was rushed into bed, while Yusuf Khan set out to procure eggs and milk from a hamlet which he remembered to be near by. Terrant constituted himself nurse-in-chief and settled down to watch his patient, only consenting to be relieved by Simonds for an occasional four or five hours at a time, to enable him to bathe and snatch some badly needed sleep.
During the two days that followed Erskine steadily grew worse, the fever ever mounting higher; periodically he passed through spells of exhausting delirium, apparently re-enacting his hopeless battle with the river, and on these occasions Simonds's and Terrant's full strength was needed to restrain him.
This night he reached the crisis, and it was with dread that they looked forward to the morrow; they both feared, though they did not say so, that his chances of recovery were practically non-existent.
For thirty hours, without a prolonged break, Terrant had watched and attended his friend, remaining quite oblivious to Simonds's offers of relief and urgings to take a few hours' rest; he now insisted on continuing his vigil until at any rate two in the morning, by which time they expected that either Erskine would have taken a turn for the better or that the end would come.
Simonds, knowing full well how useless would be any attempt to influence Terrant, had retired for a few hours' sleep; Erskine lay in a state of coma, his body exhausted by high fever and delirious struggles.
Towards midnight Terrant could no longer see any signs of life, but on bending over him found that faint breathing was still perceptible: reseating himself he considered the advisability of calling Simonds, but was suddenly overcome by dizziness;—all objects in view seemed to recede until they were infinitely distant; all power to move left him; he endeavoured to shout but was unable to do so:—then came blackness.
* * * * *
"Where is she? Where did she go?"
As Simonds approached the tent these words greeted him—in Erskine's voice, a trifle weak, perhaps, but perfectly clear and with no traces of delirium.
There was no light burning inside; hastily striking a match, his amazement was deepened into stupefaction by the sight that met his eyes. Erskine, half raised on his elbows, was peering into the darkness in front of him, while Terrant reclined limply in his chair, blinking and apparently but newly awakened.
Simonds lit the lamp; he expected to find that the candle had been burnt away, but there were several inches left and it immediately flared up brightly. Turning back to Erskine, he found that he was now lying back in bed, a smile on his lips; his eyes were clear and healthy-looking and every sign of fever had left him.
Pulling himself together and gazing in turn at Erskine and Simonds with a look of such complete bewilderment that the latter could not restrain his laughter, Terrant suddenly exclaimed: "Did I really hear Jerks speaking, or did I dream it?"
"Oh no, you didn't dream it! Just as I arrived at the tent I nearly collapsed to hear Jerks calling out something like 'Where is she, where did she go?'; he seems to have been dreaming, but the last thing I expected to find was to see him as fit as he seems to be now! But what is the matter with you?"
Simonds, however, was not yet to be enlightened, rather was he to be still further perplexed, for Terrant, after gazing at Erskine—a heavy frown, almost a scowl on his face—demanded: "Did you see—Dr—something, Jerks?"
"Well, old man, as a matter of fact I've just been through a most extraordinary experience: I suppose I dreamed it—but I saw it all as clearly as I do you now—I saw a girl! Ye gods, a peach of a girl, and she was deuced nice! And she was just like the one you described after that weird dream of yours!"
"Did she come to the side of your bed and rest her hand on your forehead and stroke your eyes; and was she wearing a curious old ring?"
"Good Lord, did you see all that! She did, and she was! And the old white cat stood on the edge and barked at you," said Erskine with a laugh, "but she made up for that, didn't she?"
"If you will excuse me," broke in Simonds, whose impatience during this conversation had been visibly increasing, "are you both mad, or am I? What the devil are you talking about?"
"Tell him, Terrant," said Erskine. "We both seem to have seen much the same thing, only perhaps your story starts earlier; I didn't see the lady coming in, did you?"
"Yes, I saw her coming; at least—well, this is what happened to me:—I suddenly felt most awfully rotten; I tried to shout to you, Simonds, but couldn't; and then everything went black: I think I must have been unconscious for a bit, but don't know for certain. Then I saw a glow of light in that corner over there; it grew stronger and brighter and, suddenly, there stood the same girl I had seen in that dream—exactly as I had seen her before: she walked across to the bed and stood looking at Jerks for a minute or two and then put her hand on his forehead. The white cat had come in with her, and when I tried to get up the brute jumped on to the bed and swore at me: then she looked across at me and somehow I absolutely knew I mustn't move!
"Almost as soon as she touched Jerks I saw him open his eyes: then, after a little while, she stroked him. She looked at him again for a bit and, after making a few passes over him, smiled at me and disappeared—sort of faded away!"
Erskine took up the tale—"I didn't see anything until I suddenly seemed to wake up and found her standing beside me with her hand on my forehead,—and such a cool, smooth hand. Yes, I noticed that ring of her's, a great red stone in a curious old gold setting: I felt as weak as a kitten and devilish seedy, but as she stood there I tingled all over with pins and needles,—just like one of those electric shock things; then, when she touched my eyes, all the headache and wooziness left me and, as she made those passes over me, it felt like waves of warmth passing through my veins and I could feel myself growing stronger. Then she glided away and disappeared!"
"A crazy enough yarn," exclaimed Simonds, "but that you should both see the same thing is more crazy still. How do you account for it, Terrant? Upon my word, I don't know what has come over you!"
"Oh, don't rub it in, major; I take back all I said in Fateybad: blessed if I can make head or tail of any of it and, coming down to bedrock, I'll be damned if this was a dream. The great thing is that Jerks seems to be pretty well as fit as a fiddle;—there isn't a scrap of fever left in him, so I suggest that we turn in and have a good sleep,—I feel as if I could do with one!"
This proposal met with all-round approval, and Simonds, muttering something about "These young fellows seeing things!" returned to his tent.
The following morning both Terrant and Erskine slept late: the latter, on awaking, immediately proceeded to get up, and found that he felt as well as he ever had except for a slight weakness in the knees,—and this he expected to overcome as soon as he had satisfied an appetite that occupied his every thought.
At about midday they sat down to lunch: Erskine's state of health dumbfounded them; Simonds and Terrant could scarcely believe their eyes, for the change from the previous day was too unnatural, too impossible, to admit of any explanation. He should now be as weak as a new-born puppy,—if not dead; instead, there he was sitting before them eating voraciously enough to put to shame the proverbial pig.
Very little was said concerning the incident of the preceding night: Terrant now fully believed that the "vision" they had seen would prove to be in the exact image of the so-called Marble Goddess: but no one could suggest how she happened to know of their particular existence and, as it would seem, the object of their journey; and if she were not aware of these two things how could she, or why should she, first show herself to one of them and later save the life of another—for nothing could persuade them but that Erskine owed his life to her.
Being quite unable to understand or explain the problem, they forthwith let the subject drop as a topic of conversation, but it remained in the thoughts of each of them and materially increased their desire to pursue their quest with as much speed as possible.
During the afternoon Hernam Singh and Yusuf Khan joined them in council to discuss their advance: the former was able to tell them that men and beasts were in good condition and thoroughly rested, and the latter that, by taking short marches, they would have very easy going for four or five days; then the range that they could see facing them at the far end of the valley must be crossed.
He went on to expound how this was perhaps the most dangerous part of the whole journey;—if luck were with them they should have no difficulty nor should they meet with any particular trouble or danger. But the pass had an evil reputation amongst travellers; out of a cloudless sky storms were likely to brew without any warning; at one moment the peaks on either side of the pass would be starkly etched against a blue sky, silent and peaceful giants, and then, within a few minutes, they might be completely blotted out in swirling masses of cloud accompanied by a bitter hurricane. Such storms brought heavy falls of snow, and then, from miles away, could be heard the deep rumbling of avalanches. Many a traveller had started under a clear and peaceful sky to accomplish the final march over the pass, and had been heard of no more.
The prospect was certainly rather alarming; pursed lips and raised eyebrows passed between Simonds, Terrant and Erskine as Yusuf Khan added story to story of disaster and death. At last he was evidently satisfied with the degree of respect for the mountains that he had instilled among his hearers, for he concluded with the encouraging words, "But, as I said first, sahib, if Allah looks on our journey with approval and if no evil influences are brought to bear, we shall doubtless cross to the other side with no more discomfort than that which must be met with at a great height: we have already passed through some dangers and our kismet seems to be favourable."
"A cheery bloke is our Yusuf Khan," said Erskine. "I was beginning to expect he was going to tell us of armies of demons that awaited the harmless traveller amongst the rocky crags: anyway, I've got the idea that, watching over our tottering footsteps, there's a friendly spirit which is a match for all the evil ones that usually function around and about these haunts; so I propose just hoping for the best!"
"I think that that is the way to look at things," Simonds approved. "The great thing is that by the time we get to the next bad going we should all be as fit as is humanly possible; easy stages for the next two or three days would seem to be indicated."
And so it was decided that on the next day they should start down the valley, advancing easily and unhurriedly to the point from which they must commence climbing.
The five days' march that followed proved to be of unqualified enjoyment; the climate was perfect, of comfortable warmth, and their way led them continually through shady woods and beside softly murmuring streams. On the third day they crossed the central river without mishap or trouble of any kind and when, finally, this stage of their journey was done the whole party felt refreshed from the trials that had culminated in Erskine's illness, and fully prepared to meet any ardours to come.
As they approached closer and closer to the range so were their eyes more frequently turned to the heights above them and to the narrow gap through which they must thread their way. But day after day the guardian peaks stood clear against the deep blue of the sky, and never once did they hear the menacing growl of an avalanche. Notwithstanding the towering height of the pass, the climb did not look at all serious—if only this fine weather would hold for two or three more days: a simple grass slope led up to the snow-line and thence onwards their route would take them between two glaciers and up an open snow-field to a defile that separated the two peaks.
They climbed easily but steadily and camped on a small island of rock that projected from the surrounding expanse of snow: but that night, being unaccustomed to such thin air, their sleep was restless and intermittent, so that it was with relief that they hailed the coming of dawn and prepared to set out with the first appearance of light.
From here their progress was slow; the slope was very steep and the snow on the surface frozen into a smooth sheet, so that men and beasts continually slipped.
Under the circumstances good headway was made, however, until Yusuf Khan approached Simonds with anxiety written all over his face; he pointed out some heavy clouds that were rapidly forming around the peaks and apprehensively searched the snow-field for some spot where they might take shelter during the fury of the storm that he insisted was gathering.
As it turned out Yusuf Khan's worst fears were well founded, for the clouds gathered and spread so rapidly that in a few minutes the party was enshrouded in the descending mist; whereupon a halt was immediately called and a plan of action framed to meet the case.
Yusuf Khan affirmed that their only safety lay in reaching shelter of some sort; and of this the nearest to be found was amongst the rocks at the base of the peak that towered far above them. It was clear that, climbing in a cloud as they would, and perhaps also in a dense snowstorm, individual members of the party and of the mules were likely to stray from the rest and be lost in crevasses. Hastily, therefore, they uncoiled light alpine ropes with which they had provided themselves against just such an emergency; then first joining the mules into two strings, they divided themselves into three groups; in the first were Yusuf Khan, Simonds and Erskine, who were to act as path-finders; then came Hernam Singh with one lot of porters and pack-animals, followed by Terrant with the other.
By the time these preparations were completed snow had begun to fall heavily, and in this the climb was resumed; Yusuf Khan acted as guide, with Simonds checking his direction by compass as far as was possible.
After struggling upwards for about an hour their danger was made terribly apparent, for suddenly a great streak of lightning momentarily blinded them, and was followed immediately by a clap of thunder that sounded as if the whole mountain was falling about their ears. Then the full horror of their situation made itself clear;—dislodged by the concussion of the thunder, an avalanche had started far above them and, while they could hear the swelling rumble of its descent they could see nothing through the snow-filled air.
Nearer and nearer sounded that ghastly roaring; would they be caught in its greedy onrush? Nearer and nearer; they could now feel its very breath—the icy wind pushed forward by its devastating advance: they were enveloped and blinded by a cloud of driven ice-sand before which they crouched; the noise became unbearable; the very spot on which they stood shuddered and swayed and, hell let loose, the uproarious mass passed them by. And they knew that they had felt the hand of death itself!
Gradually the following hurricane died down and they emerged from the cloud of stinging ice,—one terror passed: but still, far below, they could hear the hungry monster growling on its way. And this was but merely the overture to the devil's concert to follow; every moment the storm increased in violence, and they were now in the path of a screaming tornado that swept across the face of the mountains: lightning flash followed lightning flash so closely one after another that even through the driving snow they could see the peak above them, their objective, as it were spouting fire: the thunder was one continuous, ear-splitting chaos of sound, so that only by the frequent tremblings of the ground could they realize that avalanches were falling pell-mell and all around them.
The mules, first paralyzed with fear, were now blindly struggling forward with them,—slipping and stumbling, but ever creeping upwards.
They had almost reached safety amongst the rocks when suddenly Yusuf Khan disappeared; having borne too much to one side he had fallen into a crevasse that, crossing their path, barred their way: with little difficulty, however, they hauled him out by the rope that had held him dangling over a bottomless pit. Then, forced aside by the crevasse, they faced into the gale and groped their way along the face of the mountain, feeling every step, until at last once again they could turn and compel their wearied limbs upwards.
The storm was now dying down, the wind was less fierce, the lightning but seldom slashed the clouds and the thunder was grumbling away into the distance. At last, so dazed and wearied that they could scarcely think, they stumbled off the snow; somehow they had made in safety the refuge that none of them had really expected to see.
A few moments sufficed to find a spot sheltered from the wind by a massive, overhanging wall of rock, and here the porters soon had fires burning of fuel that they carried with them.
For two hours longer the snow continued to fall when, as suddenly as it had started, the storm ceased; the clouds melted away and the sun shone out; all was as peaceful and quiet as if such a thing as a storm were an impossibility.
Greatly rested and refreshed by the warmth of the fires and a meal they lost no time in setting forward again: it was now about three o'clock, and there only remained a short four hours of daylight during which they must cross the pass and find some spot on the other side where they could camp. Yusuf Khan said he was certain that there was another outcrop of rock, highly suitable for their purpose, to which he thought they could attain in time; and thus it proved.
A very little climbing sufficed to bring them to the summit and thence, making better going down hill than they expected, they reached the "island" in slightly over four hours. Evidently the storm had confined itself to the side of the range from which they had come as, shortly after emerging from between the two peaks, they left all the freshly fallen snow and marched forward easily over a slightly softened but sufficiently firm surface.
In darkness they pitched camp, and night found them completely worn out by a terrifying experience that had been added to a long day's march.
AS a bird flies they were now only about two hundred miles from their destination: unfortunately, however, the configuration and general character of the intervening country necessitated their taking a circuitous and winding route of fully double that amount. Yusuf Khan reported that impassable marshes occupied the plains lying directly between them and the mountains among which Saria lay hidden, and that these marshes were infested by snakes and evil spirits; that no man had ever been known to succeed in making his way through and that no one would consent even to try to do so now.
What could be seen of this country from their present position was so far from pleasing that no argument ensued as to the advisability of attempting to take the direct course: a start was accordingly made in a direction leading very nearly directly away from their true goal.
At first they marched along the face of the range, negotiating a gradual descent that offered no difficulties, and made excellent progress; but then they entered a tract cut up by innumerable streams and gullies, travelling in every direction, which had cut deep into the soft soil. The sides of these streams were usually from fifty to a hundred feet deep and nearly perpendicular, so that their way continually doubled and redoubled on itself.
And so ensued five days of heart-breaking work, and though marching hard for hours the last halting place could still be seen apparently only two or three miles behind them. However, this stage at last came to an end and they were rewarded by an easy and straight, but ever rising, path.
They passed between two mountains, like sentinels, that rose sheer from the plain in grim isolation, and then for six days advanced, always up-hill, over a bare and desolate expanse of hard, packed sand, scantily covered with coarse grass.
At the height of this plateau they were faced, in the far distance, by the mountains containing Saria—a single range of black, jagged rock that was here and there adorned by a snowy pinnacle—while a great, bitter lake lay at their feet. For two days, amongst ever shifting sand dunes, they passed along its shore,—scorched by the sun, bitten to the marrow by the wind and half blinded by driven sand.
These evil conditions prevailed until, after three days further marching, they camped at the foot of the mountains that towered, dark and forbidding, above them. Yusuf Khan declared that it would be impossible for mules or heavily burdened men to climb them and that, in any case, they were but the outer bulwarks of Saria. Nature, however, had at some period cleft a path through the solid rock; but so narrow was it and so well hidden that to find it without previously knowing its position would prove a task that might occupy an army for months.
Yusuf Khan led them directly to the entrance of this passage: they advanced towards a face of rock rising sheer and without a break for several hundred feet and, in amazement, those in the rear saw the leaders apparently disappearing into the rock itself.
A gully, about ten feet wide, here running nearly parallel to the face, had its mouth covered by a projecting lip: after a few yards it turned sharply and led directly into the heart of the mountain; its sides, cut clean as if by some gigantic knife, towered thousands of feet into the sky. And, although the gully was open and roofless, so great was its depth that the sky was only seen as a thread of something not quite so dark as the walls, and the gloom was so dense that it was necessary to light the torches which Yusuf Khan had previously made ready.
"What an extraordinary place and how very nicely nature has arranged it all!" said Erskine, who was walking with Simonds and Yusuf Khan at the head of the slender column; and turning his head over his shoulder he further soliloquized, "A weird show altogether!" Simonds turned too and agreed, thinking to himself that the sight reminded him of something, he could not quite make out what,—perhaps it was a picture he had seen, when a boy, in the great volume of Paradise Lost that they had at home; or perhaps it was Moses on the Mount;—for behind him, sinuously—like some slow moving snake—writhed the dark shadow, picked out here and there with splashes of light, that was the uneven column of men and beasts and the occasional, swaying, ruddy-hued torch flares leaving trails of murky, black smoke: on each side and closely encompassing them the stark and rugged, dark walls, overpowering in their enormous mass.
The floor was of smooth rock carpeted with sand, so that their advance was audible only as a dull murmur accentuated now and then when metal struck metal or rock, and all deadened and muffled under the blanket of the heights above them.
They turned a slight bend and halted abruptly—automatically; for facing them and faintly illumined by their own torches were men, armed men, rank upon rank of them, each more indistinct than the one in front and thus fading into the natural blackness so that it was impossible to estimate their numbers. Its rhythm broken, bumping into those in front of them, with muttered curses, their little column came to uneasy rest, while its leading members stared, silent with surprise, at the equally silent ranks that faced them.
"What's up; what's the trouble?" shouted Terrant from the rear.
"Blessed if I know!" muttered Simonds, and then continued loudly enough for Terrant to hear him, "Stand fast; somebody is here to meet us!"
At this moment a man stepped forward from the front row of the opposing party and in fluent Pushtu addressed them, "You must turn about and go!" and seeing Simonds about to answer, went on "It will be of no avail to ask questions; and it will be better if you turn and go peacefully,—otherwise you will be forced to go!"
By this time Terrant had made his way forward and had joined the others: "Well I'm damned!" he ejaculated, adding thoughtfully "It doesn't look as if resistance would be much good!"
Simonds shook his head, "Good Lord no: they could simply walk through us. Heaven knows who these people are; perhaps they will go on their way and then we can get through here later. Turn about, Terrant, and we'll make way for them—we haven't far to go!" So in a few minutes they were retracing their steps, and, closely followed by the force that had held them up, soon straggled out again into the open.
Having withdrawn about 100 yards from the gully entrance they halted their party and turned to learn what action they were expected to take next. Surprise and momentary indecision were their lot, for no one else had emerged from the mountain side and no one was in sight: with one accord, and accompanied by Yusuf Khan, they started back to the opening and, turning the covering wall, found themselves once again face to face with the same, silent opposition. And in silence they too stared until the spokesman of before took a step or two forward and again, and, emphatically, urged them, "I have told you—you must go; you must return whence you have come; you shall not pass through here. I do not wish to use force but, if you will not go peaceably, you shall go—if you are fortunate enough! So go, and go now!"
Simonds had reddened with anger; he retorted: "Who are you to order our comings and goings? Do you think you are wise to interfere with us in this manner?"
These were to all of them very ordinary questions to ask under the circumstances, but it appeared to strike their opponent in a very different manner, for he stood agape and it seemed that the second question opened up avenues of thought that did not appeal to him.
In the stillness and silence that ensued there came to their ears a faint, thudding reverberation; and evidently not to them alone, for the expressions of those facing them suddenly became alert, then anxious and apprehensive: and the reverberation became a dull, muffled roar that rapidly grew in intensity and volume. Shouts echoed from within the gully and, like water from a bursting dam, the mass of armed men surged forward into the open and scattered left and right on to the plain, enveloping and carrying their leader with them until he was left stranded and alone.
Simonds and his companions had hastily stepped back and to the side so that the projecting wall covered and diverted from them the panic-stricken and struggling wave of humanity, and thence they watched, motionless, the scene that followed. On the heels of the last of the fugitives there swept out on to the plain section after section of cavalry: dazed, but still with professional acumen, they noted the high quality of the horses, the evident discipline of chargers and men, the rifles in their buckets and the drawn swords; how the sections, once in the open, formed into troops and squadrons under their leaders; and how the squadrons, with few words of command, spread left and right and charged into the little groups that had begun to rally. Sabres rose and fell, a few rifle shots rang out in the vast emptiness of the plain and echoed from the black rock of the outer wall of Saria; groups struggled and disintegrated and still bodies lay scattered about the ground. The commander of the regiment and a small following galloped towards the leader of the force that was being so rapidly annihilated; they had surrounded him and the commander was stooping to capture him alive; but, with a quick motion, he put his pistol to his head and thus rejoined his followers who so lately had been a disciplined force.
In a few short moments all was over and silence and stillness once again reigned: a few more words of command and the regiment reformed; a small party dismounted and commenced to collect the bodies into heaps and to stack the scattered weapons; such of the cavalry regiment as were dead or wounded they handled gently and laid out separately, while those of their enemy, who were wounded only, they shot out of hand. The remainder of the regiment marched back at the walk and disappeared into the gully, while their commander reined in near Simonds and his companions, fascinated spectators, and, smiling grimly, accosted them "The path is now clear; please continue on your way when you wish"—and with those few but comprehensive words he too disappeared and was gone.
"Well I'm damned!" Terrant exclaimed.
"Short and sharp I call it!" Erskine answered; but Simonds, scratching his chin and looking from one to the other, mused abstractedly "I think you're both right, but I can't help wondering who's who—and why!"
There being no one to answer their questions or to enlighten them in any way, they reformed their little party and, acting on the permission that had been granted them, quickly got under weigh and in their turn—and for the second time in the space of little over an hour—advanced into the gully, the silence broken by occasional, isolated rifle shots, the flat emptiness of the plain quickened by a few, khaki-clad men stooping and carrying burdens.
This time they met with no hindrance and for three hours they marched through this eerie passage before, at last, a ribbon of light shone in front of them. Burning with curiosity they emerged on to a platform clearly hewn out of the rock by man.
Halted, for some minutes they remained speechless, bereft almost of thought by the harsh grandeur of the scene.
The platform, a semi-circle in shape, was large enough to comfortably hold about fifteen hundred men; its flat side was formed by the wall through which they had just come, the mouth of the gully itself forming, as it were, the centre of the circle; the outside edge of the platform was a precipice dropping sheer for two or three hundred feet. Directly opposite, and not more than one hundred yards distant, was another wall of mountain which, about four hundred yards to the right of them, met that through which they had passed. To the left, a path about six feet wide, hewn out of the living rock, gradually led down to the floor of the valley contained by the two mountain chains.
The valley opened out by degrees to a maximum width of about a mile and, bounded on both sides by precipitous peaks of shining black rock, extended in a straight line for fully five miles, when it was once again abruptly closed by a third wall that thus completed a triangular enclosure.
The floor of the valley was strewn with boulders of every shape and size, and at its upper end could be seen the village, mentioned by Yusuf Khan, whence they must obtain a guide to lead them into Saria.
Having absorbed these details, Simonds exclaimed: "Well, it seems to me that our lady friend of somewhere beyond these mountains scarcely needs such a large army simply to defend her own country; a thousand men could easily hold this valley till the crack of doom and against the world; and even if this place were taken heaven knows how to get into Saria: I wonder what her game is,—it looks a bit fishy to me!"
"Oh I don't know," Terrant retorted, "there may easily be other ways into Saria, and naturally she wants to be able to keep out marauding tribes and such-like."
"Humph!" said Simonds, "You know Yusuf Khan says that this is absolutely the only entrance; of course he may be wrong. However—let's get on to the village; it's getting late and we want to arrange about a guide as soon as possible."
So they moved off and in little over an hour and a half pitched camp a few hundred yards from the village; but not a sign or a sound of a living soul could be seen or heard, and they were considerably mystified by this fact, as they were used to being watched with almost too much interest by all whom they had met during the last few weeks.
They were not sorry to sit down undisturbed to their supper—and the village being deserted meant that they were not surrounded by an inquisitive congregation who watched their every mouthful with greater or less volubility; and, being hungry and tired, as well as somewhat shattered by the exciting events of the early part of the day, they desired peace and quiet nearly as much as they did food.
"What about this morning, major; what do you make of that party?" Erskine asked between mouthfuls, and added "You know, it struck me that both lots were of the same tribe or people, or whatever you call 'em; a fine looking lot of men too, and deuced well trained—even those foot soldiers began to rally, of their own accord as soon as they got a chance to see what was coming!"
"Can't make head or tail of it;" Simonds replied, "and that they seemed to belong to the same outfit makes it all the more difficult;—they were all fixed up with the same sort of kit and equipment."
"I think" said Terrant, "that the people in this country had heard of or seen us coming along, and one lot wanted to keep us out and another lot wanted to let us in: hence the riot. And, by jove, the people who seem to want to let us in evidently don't stand for any back-chat."
"That's a theory that certainly explains things and may be the answer," Simonds agreed. "I asked Yusuf Khan what he thought about it, but he said he knew nothing at all at first hand about these people and so had nothing to suggest. And talking of Yusuf Khan,—I think he might go into the village and see if he can't find someone who will guide us over this last bit into Saria."
But when Yusuf Khan came to their call he was not at all encouraging. "Certainly I will try if the sahib so orders, but it will be useless: to me it is certain that the goddess knows of our presence here and has given orders that no one is to communicate with us. Without doubt when she is ready she will send someone to guide us: after this morning, I think that she intends to let us enter the country: but perhaps she had nothing to do with that fight and perhaps she doesn't want us and so has given orders that no one is to speak to us here."
"In fact,—perhaps everything!" said Erskine despairingly.
"Well," answered Simonds, "this is certainly a pretty state of affairs; I suppose she can just leave us sitting here until we get tired and start back for home. But can't we find some way over the mountains;—perhaps, even, we could find the way?"
"No sahib; we could never get in by ourselves: you saw for yourself how absolutely unscalable are the mountains round this valley, and they say that round Saria all are like these; the way in is hidden,—quite hidden!"
"Oh, I don't think we need worry;" Terrant suggested. "I don't think she means to keep us out; perhaps she wants to impress on us that we can't do just what we like when we like,—sort of showing her authority, don't you know. But, Yusuf Khan, what makes you think that the people here are trying to avoid us, perhaps they are at some feast or ceremony?"
"Sahib; when I came here last year men were on guard in the gully, and I was told that it is watched always, day and night: no one was there to-day when we came through—as far as we could see—and that struck me as being very curious. But wait a minute,—I think I see a man coming from the village; it must be her messenger!"
And in a few moments there entered into the glow of the fire-light a tall, well set up man of fairer complexion than the average European who has spent many years in the east.
Without hesitation he made his way silently towards Simonds and, addressing him in Hindustani with a very marked accent, said "I am ordered to tell the sahibs that they must be ready to-morrow morning three hours after sunrise: I will then conduct them into Saria. Salaam!"
Turning, he started to leave as silently as he had come, but Terrant exclaimed, "One minute; I am sure you would make a very good guide, but what and where is Saria; perhaps we do not wish to go there?"
"I have heard that the sahibs have travelled a great distance in order to see Saria; but in any case, even if that is not so, they should be ready and they will come with me to-morrow morning; it is an order!"
Again he turned, abruptly, and the night quickly swallowed him up, leaving his four hearers silently occupied with their thoughts. "Tut-tut!" said Erskine after a short interval, "He knows his mind all right: that settles it; so now we've got to go whether we like it or not, have we? That's all right as it happens, but just supposing we decided to turn round and start off home at once, I don't quite see who is going to stop us: why, by to-morrow morning we could be well through the gully!"
"No sahib, I don't think we would be through the gully,—probably it is now guarded and closed; but even if it is not, something would happen, something would stop us! The sahib does not know what the goddess can do or how powerful she is, but I have heard strange stories and I would not like to try to go away now!"
Silence again fell on the party to be at last broken by Simonds who made off to his tent and was soon followed by the others.
The next morning, after a late breakfast, camp was struck as usual. Shortly before this operation was concluded the messenger of the night before was seen approaching followed by twelve men carrying three litters, and a further party of men clothed in shirts and shorts of khaki colour, with sandals on their feet and their heads bare; in holsters slung from belts they wore wicked-looking pistols: and like the messenger they were fair and of European type.
As soon as the baggage was packed and loaded the armed men distributed themselves amongst the porters and soon securely bandaged the eyes of each. The messenger then requested the three Englishmen to get into the litters and to submit to having their eyes covered too; he asked them to make no attempt to see where they were being taken, at the same time delicately hinting that such an attempt would be highly inadvisable. They then felt themselves lifted and the march began.
Except for the pattering of feet not a sound broke the silence; and, as a matter of fact, not a word was spoken until their eyes were unbandaged at a much later hour. Soon, by the echo and the feel of the air, they could safely hazard that they were passing either through another gully or through a tunnel, and this they traversed for fully two hours: then the party halted and they felt themselves lowered on to what was evidently a boat or a raft, as the silence was broken by the splashing of paddles and the rippling of water.
The crossing of the lake or river occupied only a few minutes, and then once again they were picked up and carried for a further two or three hours that seemed interminable.
At last they were set down and their eyes uncovered: quickly getting used to the light the Englishmen could not refrain from exclamations of admiration. They had halted on a grassy hill; just behind them, and about a quarter of a mile distant rose the grim range through which, they could only believe, they had just passed;—in front of them, saucer shaped and about fifty miles in diameter, lay the country of Saria completely surrounded by its precipitous guardian mountains.
Bathed in sunlight there stretched an easy, rolling country: fields under cultivation lay sheltered amongst low hills densely covered with gently waving trees; rich green meadows supplied pasturage to sleek looking cattle and sheep; dotted here and there colour-washed cottages nestled among the trees, a blazing mass of flowers surrounding each.
In the middle distance lay a large city and, immediately attracting the eye, on a hill in its centre stood a great building, its roof glittering golden in the afternoon sunlight.
After a few minutes they were joined by the baggage animals and the rest of the party, each led by one of the guards: halting, their eyes were in turn uncovered and they were permitted to carry on with their ordinary duties.
Their guide leading, and followed by the guard, they set out and made their pleasant way towards the city. Four hours' march sufficed to bring them to the outskirts where large houses stood in well-kept grounds, glowing with flowers of every description and colour, and sheltered amongst fine old trees of great growth.
These houses, of one storey only, built of hewn stone, were square shaped and evidently surrounded an open court, for there were no windows or openings on the outside other than the entrances.
They were now following a well-made road on which were met many low, two-wheeled carts drawn by horses and tended by men similar in appearance to their guide: and, during this time and later when passing through the city, they were particularly struck by the good manners of the people who, while showing a mild interest in them, refrained from any marked staring and the passing of obvious remarks about them.
Entering the actual city, they made their way along a wide street, between low but strongly built houses, straight towards the great, central building which, they noticed, alone was surmounted by a dome; and it was this feature that was so outstanding from a distance as all other buildings were flat roofed. Along the street a crowd of fair men and women silently and unobtrusively watched their passage: the men all wore flowing white robes, the women robes of variously coloured, soft textures some of which were lavishly embroidered with gold or silver thread.
This was rather a trying ordeal to all except, perhaps, Erskine who seemed to feel in no way abashed but who was, on the contrary, apparently already appraising the lavishly endowed beauty of the local fair sex;—for both men and women were splendid specimens of the human race.
And thus they arrived at the massive entrance to what they had guessed must be the temple: a flight of thirty wide steps led up to the imposing double doors flanked on either side by carved stone pillars. The doors, faced with what was obviously hammered gold, opened at their approach and, entering between them, they passed through a long archway, on either side of which were guard-rooms whose occupants lined the way: automatically they noted that the guards were armed with modern rifles, and it was of interest too, when they saw that they were dressed exactly similarly to the infantry who had opposed them that morning.
The archway led out into a vast garden, the green of its turf brightened by profuse masses of flowers and studded with shade trees: all around ran a wide piazza behind which were dwellings built against the outer wall: in the centre stood the temple, a magnificent building of white marble crowned by its glittering dome. (See frontispiece).
They were led around, through the piazza, to the far side of the garden and, entering one of the doorways, were shown over a suite of four rooms luxuriously furnished with all that could be desired: the walls were covered with embroidered silk hangings and the floors with soft carpets somewhat similar to Persian rugs: the furniture was of a dark, polished wood exquisitely inlaid with gold and jade: lining the walls were couches piled up with soft skins and silken cushions: in addition, there was a room into the floor of which was sunk a marble bath almost large enough to swim in.
Their baggage having been distributed amongst the various rooms, Hernam Singh and Yusuf Khan were taken each to a room to one side of this suite, while the porters and mules were led away to other and more distant quarters.
Their guide, whose name they now asked and found to be Xerres, informed them that food could be brought at once or later should they prefer it and, on their deciding that they would like to bathe first, he showed them how the water could be turned on and let out: he told them too that they would not need the services of their bearers (personal servants) as attendants had been appointed to look after them; and further that they would find ready, in their rooms, clothing that would be more comfortable and which they should wear; he left them saying that a meal would be served in about half an hour.
Having bathed, they examined the robes laid out for them. "All very well," said Erskine, "to tell us we ought to wear these contraptions, but the bird never mentioned how one puts them on. Does a girl get into her petticoats upwards or downwards? I say; mine's very hot stuff,—all gold and silver thread! Do Scotsmen wear pants under their kilts? Oh, I've found my way in! Hmmm!—Very tasty I call it!" And in time they all found how to don this new and curious raiment; then going to the central, living room they anxiously awaited the promised meal, for by this time they were famished.
<NOT for long, however, were they called upon to endure the pangs of hunger; not long enough in fact to begin discussing their palatial surroundings, for soon they heard laughter and clear, feminine voices which, on approaching nearer, were gradually subdued. Then there entered three girls bearing steaming dishes, the fragrant aroma from which later monopolized their attention; but not before these attractive attendants had set down their burdens and left the room, for their appearance demanded notice.
All three, of approximately eighteen years of age, were remarkably pretty; their dark hair, unbound except for a golden fillet above the brow, flowed down their backs in glossy coils; their features, of great regularity, were set off by eyes sparkling with merriment, while curved red lips enhanced the beauty of the slightly ivory tint of their skin. They were clothed in thin, black, silken garments open at the throat and falling to within a few inches of the ground; being girdled at the waist by golden scarves, the beauty of their supple young bodies was charmingly revealed.
In a few moments they returned bringing silver platters and drinking mugs and, having disposed of these, indicated that they were ready to serve the meal: this consisted of a fish, of the trout species, followed by a meat stew to which the hungry travellers did full justice: to drink they were given a light, unfermented white wine having a muscat flavour.
Each maiden appointed herself as sole attendant to one of the trio and diligently supplied every need; her feet, softly sandalled, moving noiselessly over the thickly carpeted floor.
In a remarkably short space of time Erskine was completely happy, having established a flirtatious communication of the eyes with his attending handmaiden, a proceeding which, truth to tell, seemed to afford her equal satisfaction. But Simonds and Terrant attended more thoroughly to the business in hand, that of appeasing their hunger; and thus, all being engrossed in their several occupations, the meal passed in silence, until the girls finally departed, leaving on the table some fruit and a jug of wine.
Erskine, rising from his seat, complained that although the robe-like clothes were decidedly comfortable the lack of pockets was rather a nuisance and that he had to go to his room for cigarettes. He was absent for some minutes and on his return Simonds suggested that his cigarettes seemed to have taken a lot of finding, to which he replied, "Well, to tell the truth, I found my waitress wench doing the duties of a valet and straightening out my things, so I tried to talk to her,—but I couldn't make head or tail of her lingo: rather curious, though—I was never much of a classic at school, but several of the words she used sounded to me uncommonly like what Greek might be,—you know, tupto, tupteis, tuptei!"
"And so" said Terrant, "you took a Greek lesson under what you considered to be most favourable conditions; and in this case I can't blame you, but for heaven's sake, Jerks, don't overdo it."
"That's deuced interesting" Simonds interrupted, "have you ever seen anywhere on the frontier any people at all like the type that these are? All through the meal the thing was worrying me; these people seem to have absolutely no oriental characteristics,—they are as fair as we are and their features are decidedly European; in fact, when you come to think of it, they appear to be just the type that the ancient Greek statues represent. This is certainly very interesting; after all, I suppose it is possible that some far-roving band, perhaps from Alexander the Great's army, somehow found this valley and settled here. By jove, I wish I could remember my Greek, it's such a long time since I left school, though."
Rather absent-mindedly Terrant replied "No, I've never seen anybody at all like them out here and, as you say, they may have originated anywhere. They are certainly treating us durned well, but I wonder just what our position is;—are we more or less prisoners or are we free to come and go as we please? And when are we going to see the statue or whatever it is?"
"Poor old man," Erskine jeered. "Very impatient. But I can't blame you, and—Dr—don't overdo it, will you!"
Terrant growled but made no other answer as just then Xerres entered the room. He inquired if they had been supplied with everything that they wanted and if the maidens had satisfactorily fulfilled their duties, and he begged them to tell him at once if they had any cause for complaint, or need for anything.
After thanking him Simonds said that they would like to go out and see something of the city, but Xerres replied that he could not give them permission to do so at present; they might wander about in the garden as much as they pleased but they must not attempt to leave it or to enter the temple.
Terrant then asked if they were ever going to be permitted to see the interior of the temple, to which the reply was given that they would if orders to that effect were given.
"By whom are these orders issued?" Simonds inquired.
"By the one whom all in this country obey," was Xerres' brief reply,—which did not enlighten them at all; but they concluded it was this goddess, marble or otherwise, to whom he referred.
To Simonds' inquiry as to how long the valley had been inhabited by his people he said that they had lived here for many hundreds of years, but that he did not feel that he was at liberty to disclose to them their history.
Simonds then asked him to speak to them in his own tongue, and on his doing so they agreed with Erskine that it certainly might be at any rate based on ancient Greek.
Then, informing them that in about five hours they would be served with their evening meal and that at least one of the maidens could always be found in attendance outside on the veranda, should they require anything, he took his leave.
Although restricted to the gardens they thought they might as well make use of that amount of freedom and select some comfortable spot where they could waste their time; they therefore sallied forth and, as Xerres had told them, found that the maidens were ensconced amongst a heap of cushions outside the door of their suite. They made a complete circuit of the garden, which they found to be rectangular in shape, the two long sides being of about three hundred paces and the short two hundred and twenty-five. The entrance occupied the centre of the western, short, side while their suite was in the eastern, a few paces only from the north-eastern corner.
The temple itself measured about one hundred and twenty-five paces by one hundred and, as far as they could discover, had no windows and only the one entrance, also in the western side.
Having completed their tour of inspection, they sat down at a spot near the south-eastern corner, shaded by a magnificent tree and completely hidden by creepers and ramblers.
Idly discussing the situation, they were soon rather disconcerted to find that their retreat had been observed, for suddenly their attendants appeared bringing cushions and rugs for their use. They got up while these were laid down for them and, on once again reclining, were certainly thankful for the extra comfort that they afforded: but over this matter Simonds and Terrant had considerable difficulty in maintaining their gravity for, on Erskine lying down on the couch improvised for him, his attendant carefully insinuated cushions under his back and behind his head:—and it was quite a question as to who enjoyed these attentions most, the giver or the receiver.
Proof was now afforded that Erskine had not been wasting valuable time, for the girl, having completed her ministrations to their mutual satisfaction, in pretty, broken English said "Cigrette, match?" and from a woven bag that she carried handed to him these articles which she had evidently collected from his room: then nodding gaily to him, she ran after her companions who had already disappeared.
Simonds having with some difficulty regained an expression of gravity, inquired of him, "Jerks, will you kindly inform us just how much you taught that little lady during your—Dr—Greek lesson?"
"Oh, that's about all; I didn't have time for more."
"Well then, how much did you learn?"
"Nothing, nothing at all: as a matter of fact she was too shy, and anyway I was much too busy sorting out my things: when I lit a cigarette, though, she was very interested so I showed her one and a match and told her what they are called,—that's all."
"A very observant and thoughtful young lady," remarked Simonds, leaning over and appropriating a cigarette.
In the silence that followed Erskine scanned the tree under which they were sitting: at last, turning to the others he said, "I wonder whether there is anything out in the town that they don't wish us to see: the people seemed to be quite peaceably inclined, and probably an order from the goddess that we were not to be molested would be quite enough to stop any monkey-tricks; and anyway, they could surely provide us with a guard: I think there must be something a little too interesting somewhere. I have been looking at this tree; it would be easy to climb and get high enough to see over the wall; don't you think I might shin up and have a look round?"
The others agreed that little harm could be done by it, particularly if precautions were taken: they decided that, in the event of someone coming and if Erskine would not have time to regain terra firma, one of them would whistle a few bars of any tune that came to his mind; if, on the other hand, he would be able to get down in time they would softly call his name.
Without further waste of time Erskine started climbing; it was an easy tree to manage, but his clothing was evidently not designed for such a purpose and continually impeded his feet; however, he was very soon in a position to overlook the wall and examine the surroundings. Meanwhile Terrant and Simonds had disposed themselves so as to obtain a view of the approaches to their retreat: after a few moments they were startled to hear, quite clearly, a voice calling "Jerks! Jerks!"—which was immediately followed by the rustling of Erskine's descent.
On gaining the ground Erskine hastily threw himself on his pile of cushions, and then demanded of the others what was the trouble and why they also did not sit down again and "appear innocent."
Simonds and Terrant at first merely looked at each other but at last Simonds said "The fact of the matter is that neither Terrant nor I called you!"
"Didn't call me? But I heard my name, twice repeated, as clearly as I hear you now!"
"That's true;" Simonds replied, "but neither of us called you: we heard it too; we haven't seen anyone anywhere near and the voice seemed to come right from this little open space: rather unpleasant, this; I can only think that we are watched by an invisible somebody who understands English and can at least make itself heard: it rather looks to me as if we had better give up trying to find out things for the present, otherwise what liberty we have got may be taken from us.
"By the way, did you have time to see anything?"
"Well, this is the limit!" said Erskine, "Evidently we are watched and I suppose we've got to put up with it. As luck would have it, just when I was called I was getting to a clear view through the leaves and over the wall,—that is to say, on the opposite side of the town to that by which we arrived, and I am almost certain I saw a great open space on which were what looked like troops drilling: but I had only the shortest of glances and am not certain of that even; and I could not say at all how many were there. Deuced funny, though, that the voice should call just at the moment when I might have learnt something!"
"Seems to me," said Terrant, "that, to begin with, we have run up against a first-class ventriloquist: and I agree with Simonds that for the time being we would be wise to be good and do just as we are told. If, as time goes on, we find we aren't learning anything and are doing no good here we must devise some plan to outmanoeuvre the blighters; but now it is a little bit early in the day to worry about it."
They then relapsed into silence. Erskine's suggestion that he should go and find some of the books that they had brought with them met with no encouragement, and gradually the quiet peace and languor so enfolded them that their eyes closed in sleep.
Simonds was the first to awake but his slight movements aroused the others. It was evidently approaching the hour of sunset for the golden dome of the temple glowed with a soft, rose-tinted hue; and silence reigned, broken only by the twitterings of birds preparing to roost among the motionless leaves above them. Rising and stretching himself luxuriously, he proposed a further inspection of the garden, an idea that met with the lazy approval of the others.
On this tour Terrant, avoiding the obvious paths and easy ways among the trees, wandered afield and away from his companions until an exclamation from him drew Simonds and Erskine in his direction. Forcing their way through a dense mass of flowering shrubs, they rejoined him and, like him, were held spellbound by the sheer beauty of the sight that met their eyes.
They had entered a clear space of about fifty feet by thirty, which was nearly entirely occupied by a sunken bath of pink and white marble, most cunningly fashioned;—it was filled with water so crystally pure that, while the depth of the water could not be gauged, the bottom of the bath showed clearly and gave the appearance as of masses of pink roses scattered promiscuously over a bed of whitest linen.
At the end of the bath nearest to them was a fountain, the sculpturing of which was perfect, even to the eye most ignorant in the art. The exclamation that broke from Erskine's lips, "Aphrodite, by jove!" clearly described the subject and was wonderingly assented to by the others.
She stood on a shell of purest white to which dolphins were harnessed and which seemingly floated lightly on the surface of the water; of a peculiar marble that glowed with all the tints of human flesh and so exquisitely formed as to appear to be vibrating with life itself, this masterpiece seemed verily to have just risen from the depths of the water; her attitude was of one inclined to shrink from her novel surroundings and possible mortal gaze; her splendid nudity was emphasized, though slightly veiled, by a mist-like spray forced from the points of a trident in the hands of Neptune who knelt on one knee behind her.
Surrounding the bath was a mosaic pathway of the same pink and white marbles and this, in turn, was bordered by a narrow strip of velvety green turf; enclosing the whole, gorgeously flowering shrubs and ramblers—colour run riot—maintained the sense of solitude and secrecy.
The position of this bower was close to the pathway from the main entrance to the door of the temple of which the dome and the upper portion of the doorway were visible, and towards which the Aphrodite faced.
Having spent several minutes enjoying to the full this delightful vision, Erskine broke the silence by remarking "Good-bye you two; you may go back to India; this place is good enough for me, I'm not going home. Ye gods! Think of a plunge here in the dewy dawn; to-morrow as ever is I'm going to commit a bathe!"
"'Commit' is right; I beg you not to, Jerks;" said Terrant, "it would be a desecration that would probably cause Aphrodite there to veil herself forever and completely from human sight. By James! It is beautiful! And I must admit it,—that water does look good!"
Simonds meanwhile had turned towards the temple; following his gaze they saw that the glow of the sunset was rapidly fading: the base of the dome was now cold-looking and dull while, higher up, this dullness imperceptibly merged into a rich purple and, still ascending, into a red-hot, burning crimson. All too rapidly the purple ate into and obliterated the crimson,—to be in turn swallowed up by the colourless reflection of night.
As the last hint of colour was effaced from the crest of the dome they were startled by the boom of a deep-toned bell, struck once: this was immediately followed by the sounds attendant on the opening of the great gates. Wondering what was to happen they made their way from out of the enclosure by a mosaic pathway which they found led, with one or two turns, through the shrubbery towards the temple.
Before emerging completely into the open they halted and took their stand behind a mass of creepers at a spot from which they commanded a view of the gates, the entrance to the temple and the connecting pathway. The guard had lined the archway within the gate, as at the time of their own arrival, so it was with curiosity that they awaited the appearance of whoever it might be that should come.
Once again the bell gave forth its vibrating tone and slowly and silently the doors of the temple on their right swung open: the interior seemed to be entirely unlighted so that there was presented to their view naught other than a black void framed in white marble.
Glancing towards and through the main gates, they perceived what was evidently the head of a procession mounting the steps towards them: steadily and without hurry it approached and filed past them, two by two, and finally disappeared into the yawning darkness of the temple itself.
The procession was composed of fully four hundred people; at its head and alone was Xerres, clothed now in flowing white robes unrelieved by any colour, but wearing a band of silver fastened round his brow. Following Xerres were upwards of three hundred maidens, none seemingly of more than twenty years of age and all strikingly beautiful; they came in four groups of about equal numbers, all wearing dresses fashioned similarly to those worn by their own attendants, but of varying shades;—those in the first group were in black with the golden girdle and hair fillet; the second in white and gold; the third in black with silver and the fourth in white with silver. Next followed a group of some hundred boys and men of varying ages, all dressed in white robes with golden head-bands; and finally came two women of middle age and an old man; these three were clothed in black robes with intermingled gold and silver edgings, silver girdles and jewelled, golden head-bands.
In dead silence the whole of the procession entered the temple and slowly the doors closed behind them.
With one accord, each absorbed in his own thoughts, they wandered back to their rooms. Having proceeded a short way they perceived Erskine's girl-attendant hurrying towards them: she went straight up to Erskine and made signs indicative of eating, in reply to which he said "Dinner, darling?"
Eyes sparkling with amusement, she produced a very passable imitation of those words, which so pleased Erskine that he made no pretence of restraining his enthusiasm but threw his arm round her shoulders and walked along in this comforting attitude; then turning to the others, remarked, "It is always advisable, when travelling in a strange country, to come to a friendly understanding with the inhabitants thereof: this duty seems to devolve upon me;—I will do my best!"
Major Simonds grunted non-committally, but Terrant asked, "Hadn't we better chain up this incorrigible microbe while yet there is no damage done? If we don't we'll probably have the local equivalent of a breach of promise action on our hands!"
Erskine's air of injured innocence was only marred by a delicate but none the less obvious wink that passed from him to the lady in the case; and his remark, "Who said I was going to breach any promise?" was perhaps ambiguous.
Arrived at their rooms they found them to be softly lighted by oil lamps, in shape somewhat similar to those of very olden days, but provided with glass chimneys and shades and the necessary metal fittings. And now that the first excitement and interest in the country of their search had worn off they could fully appreciate the comfort in which they were installed there.
The climate, at this time of the year at any rate, was perfect; during the day the sun was hot and the air had been sufficiently warm for the lightest of clothing to be adequate; now, in the evening, there was no actual chill in the air but merely a freshening that was pleasant. Their robes were the acme of comfort, permitting complete freedom of the limbs and suitable for all except strenuous exercise. The room which they now entered, with its soft couches and lighting, invited that relaxation and ease which were surely justified by the hardships of the journey they had just accomplished. So it was with the quiet enjoyment that can only be achieved by a spirit at peace with the world that they settled down to their evening meal.
Naturally enough their conversation at first continually skirted and approached the mysteries surrounding them, but finally Simonds pointed out the utter futility of any discussion on the subject until they had accumulated some facts on which to build; so the matter was dropped and avoided.
Erskine then suggested the advantage of finding out the names of the girls and, beckoning to them, indicated his companions in turn saying "Simonds,—Terrant." He then pointed to himself, but Terrant interpolated with "Jerks". The girls immediately understood the object of this game and quickly learnt the names by which to call them,—and for all time Erskine was Jerks in Saria: then, when Erskine pointed in turn to them, they gave their own. But now he fetched a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote down the names spoken as nearly as he could; thus—
Simonds' girl .. Briseis.
Terrant's girl .. Acantha.
Jerks' girl . . Calyce.
This game excited some interest and soon Calyce showed that she wished to experiment with the materials used; Erskine gave them to her and she put the paper on the table then, pointing to the first line, conveyed that she wished to know what was written there; Erskine answered "Briseis" and she thereupon wrote something after it; and similarly in turn after Acantha and Calyce.
Perhaps it was not a great surprise to them to find that the girls' names had been written in ancient Greek characters. Certainly their surprise was not so great as that evinced by Calyce when, leaning over Erskine's shoulder, she saw him writing in Greek letters his own and his companions' names.
"It's a wonderful world!" said Erskine. "Never did I think that a time would come when I would enjoy learning Greek: and, by jove, what's all this talk about ancient Greek being a dead language? Really, you know, I can't help thinking it must be quite a good one!"
"I wonder how good you would think it if these girls were sixty years old,—and looked it!" Simonds conjectured.
"He certainly wouldn't think it as interesting as the swimming-bath which, I notice, he has absolutely forgotten: what of it? how about to-morrow morning's bathe?"
"Friend of my youth," retorted Erskine, "never let it be said that such weighty matters escaped my memory; but I deem it advisable to obtain permission from our mentor, Xerres; and he—well, where is he?"
"Sorry; I can't tell you, but perhaps I can find out." And calling Acantha, Terrant interrogatively said "Xerres?" Acantha shook her head violently, pointed in the direction of the temple and shook her head again. Terrant smilingly thanked her and continued, "I regret to inform you, Jerks, that Xerres is engaged in religious matters to-night and will therefore be unable to give you, or obtain for you, the necessary permission before to-morrow. And that being the case, I suggest bed,—I'm pretty tired!"
"Good idea!" said Simonds.
"Passed nem. con.," Erskine exclaimed, and then called "Calyce, Calyce; good night, darling! Now say 'good night' nicely!"
"Good night, darling," replied Calyce.
"Certainly you'll be kissed soon!" Erskine affirmed.
THE three OF them slept like logs. The sudden change to real comfort after weeks of the exigencies of camp life under arduous conditions might have kept them on edge; but the subconscious knowledge that there was absolutely no need for any exertion or alertness was sufficiently powerful and, as the saying goes, they hit their pillows hard: in fact, with one accord they went so far as to profit by the occasion in taking a "Europe Morning"—the term by which a late morning in bed is known in India.
At last Briseis, Acantha and Calyce invaded their respective rooms and indicated that they considered it full time that a move should be made.
Erskine was peacefully immersed in that delightful state that is neither sleeping nor waking, but Calyce's entrance turned the scale and brought him to the surface of wakefulness: he, however, from a mixture of laziness and curiosity, feigned sound sleep, while carefully watching the proceedings from under his eyelashes.
Calyce was clearly nonplussed as to what steps to take,—perhaps, too, she was a trifle suspicious: she advanced quietly to the side of the couch and critically examined Erskine's countenance, then very suddenly she bent down, bringing her face close to his, and—his eyelids flickered.
Calyce burst out laughing, and Erskine had perforce to join her,—it was so obvious that he had been found out. She was still stooping down by him, so what could be more natural than that his eyes should meet her's, and how could he help seeing what wonderful, violet-coloured eyes her's were; and they were very bright and gay, and she was so pretty. Perhaps his eyes expressed as much; in any case Calyce saw fit to finish her laugh in some other part of the room whence with words and gestures she made him understand what was the object of her visit.
With a deep moan and a stretch he showed that he had grasped the sad fact that he ought to get up, and, hearing as he did the sound of running water, no sooner had she left the room than he leapt from his bed and cantered towards the bathroom, singing lustily some song about the Swallows and Spring.
Simonds and Terrant were already there and turned as he entered: Erskine stopped his raucous noise to mutter something about the manner in which some people insisted upon occupying the bathroom all day, but Terrant was more definite, "What happens to foul beings who sing before breakfast?"
"In this case—ducking!" said Simonds, and with one accord they threw the offender as he stood, pyjamas and all, with an almighty splash into the bath. He came up gasping, and clambered out moaning, "Oh, my God, it's cold!" a fact which the others corroborated in due course; for this water, so sparklingly clear, that was so efficiently brought to the various parts of the buildings and grounds reminded them of bathes in mountain streams newly born of melting snow.
After a plunge they were certainly wide awake, but they were agreed that the swimming-bath in the open might be preferable, if only for the reason that the edge of its coldness might have been somewhat tempered by the sun and air.
Breakfast was evidently a local institution for, on entering their sitting-room, they found ready for them a spread of fish, bread, honey—and tea; later they learnt that tea was grown on the foothills of the mountains on one side of the country and coffee on the other, where for some reason the rainfall was considerably less.
Soon after they had commenced their meal Xerres entered and, having salaamed in a manner that was courteous without being in any way servile, expressed his regrets for not having attended to his country's guests for so long a time; he excused himself, saying, "But you saw for yourselves that I was engaged on my duties in the temple."
As they thought that they had been securely hidden behind the bushes while watching the procession the previous evening this was a statement that was rather difficult to answer. They were all taken so completely by surprise that a silence ensued until, after a while, Major Simonds replied: "Certainly we saw you heading a procession into the temple; I trust we were not doing wrong in watching it. But tell me—"
Xerres shook his head and interrupted, saying: "Oh no; you are perfectly at liberty to come and go as you please in the garden."
Simonds then continued, "But tell me; did you see us watching you,—we quite thought not?"
Xerres hesitated and then replied: "No; I didn't see you. I was informed"—and his tone was such as to show that he did not wish to be further interrogated on this point.
"As we are on this subject," Simonds persevered, "I would like to tell you that yesterday evening we found by chance a very beautiful swimming-bath; unless there is any objection we would like to bathe there; is it permitted?"
Now Xerres' features were at all times more remarkable for their lack of expression than otherwise; at this question, on the contrary, they manifested for a few moments absolute horror. He soon, however, regained his equilibrium and answered that he would have to obtain permission, and that if they would excuse him for a short while he might be able to give them an answer on his return.
Xerres' manner, naturally enough, caused them some surprise for, as Terrant put it,—"If he knew we were watching them yesterday evening he surely must have known that we went to the bath; and if we may go to the bath at all I don't see why we shouldn't bathe there:—but perhaps it is rather a sacred place, perhaps the goddess uses it!"
"The question is," said Erskine, "do goddesses bathe? In my day I've certainly seen one or two damsels bathing who, to look at, might have been goddesses,—I'm sure they thought they were! But my old governor always said 'Beware of the fairies, my boy—'"
"Thank you, Jerks," Terrant broke in, "that's enough of your dirty past; we aren't discussing your fairies. Another cup of tea, please."
Erskine subsided, and a few minutes later, as they were lighting their respective smokes, Xerres returned and informed them that they were at liberty to use the swimming-bath, but only between the hours of sunrise and sunset. In thanking him, Terrant remarked that these hours suited themselves perfectly, but inquired if the restriction implied that other people were in the habit of using the bath; and he expressed the hope that they were not causing any inconvenience by their request.
Xerres replied rather shortly that they would cause no inconvenience if they kept to those hours, and that the question of other users need not be discussed. He then went on to say that he had been instructed to show them over a part of the town during the morning—if that would interest them—and that at sunset they were to attend in the temple. If they would be ready to go out in about half an hour he would return for them.
He turned to leave them, but came back when Simonds posed another question: "Can you tell us what all that business at the gully was about yesterday?"
Xerres made no pretence at misunderstanding but was clearly doubtful as to how to frame his reply; he suggested "I suppose you mean being stopped by that party of men?"
"Yes," answered Simonds, "and then a fight, followed by a clear road for ourselves!"
"We got the information that certain people intended to turn you back, so we punished them for their interference: that is all!"
"But," Simonds continued, "the people who interfered were very alike in appearance to those who—Dr—punished them."
"I will be quite frank, major sahib," Xerres then answered. "Those people who stopped you were of this country, and they acted in defiance of the orders of the government; so their punishment was extreme. I can assure you that you will not meet with any further interference!"
"Thank you very much, Xerres," Simonds concluded, "we thought that something of that sort must have happened."
Xerres now left them, promising that he would soon return. They, on their part, had not much more to say to each other about the previous day's events,—Xerres' explanation had been sufficiently clear;—also the programme for the morning was a pleasant surprise and filled them with keen anticipation, while that for the evening was a different proposition and, fulfilling as it did one of the express purposes for which they had come to Saria, the sudden announcement gave them to think seriously of what they might see and what might occur. In the resulting discussion Terrant first approached the question of bathing,—"Why did Xerres shut up like that when I asked him if anybody else used the bath; surely it was a simple and courteous question?"
"Oh, that's obvious," said Erskine, "that's the goddess' bath all right; and she doesn't like getting sunburnt, so she only uses it in the 'very dewy' when the sun's down, or not up. But talking of goddesses;—what price this evening? Somehow I'm all of a twitter about it!"
Terrant remained silent, but Simonds, after a moment, murmured, "I don't think I'm all of a twitter, as you put it, but I don't want to be hoaxed. Naturally I wonder what we shall see and hear,—or think that we see or hear; but we must keep our wits about us. Anyway, we are soon getting to the gist of matters,—we may learn a lot to-day."
They were ready for Xerres when he came for them, and immediately started out with him. Passing through the garden they came to the great gates, one of which was quietly opened for them by the sentry: and thus they stood again without the confining walls, and now viewed the city at close quarters from the slight eminence on which the temple enclosure stood.
Erskine's exclamation of "By jove!" was fully justified; for in the clear morning light the beautiful planning and sober architecture of the city was displayed to full advantage.
Immediately in front of the steps descending from the enclosure was a generous, open crescent,—as it were the hub of a wheel; the spokes were represented by seven broad and straight streets that opened into it.
Four of these streets,—the two outside ones on each side,—were evidently purely residential, for they were lined by substantial, single-storied houses, each in its own tree-sheltered grounds. The next street on each side was given over to commerce, and it was by one of these that they had entered the town. The shops themselves were not the ornate affairs that are met with in the great towns of the West but, from what they had seen, they were spacious and airy, and the merchandise on sale was as diverse and attractive as anyone could desire. Lastly, and immediately facing the steps, was a great boulevard, considerably broader than the other streets and divided into three by rows of splendid shade trees: those structures on each side of it that could be seen appeared by their architecture to be public buildings,—embellished and upheld as they were by statuary and massive pillars.
Noticeable for their absence were those noisy vulgarities that so obstruct and disfigure our streets—trams: traffic was solely carried on by carts and light carriages: of dust there was none, for the streets were paved with flat slabs of stone fitted so exactly that scarcely could the joints be discerned.
For some minutes they remained on the top step, taking in and openly admiring the vista before them; this met with the obvious approval of Xerres, who at length remarked: "I am very glad to see that you appreciate our home, I think that it is worthy from every point of view. I too have seen many cities in the world outside, and what you see here is one of the many reasons that always make me happy to return."
Simonds, at this, turned sharply on him, saying: "We never dreamt that you were a great traveller, but I suppose that was natural: have you been to many countries?"
"Yes," answered Xerres. "I think I can say that I have spent some months in every civilized country of importance. I was sent to study modern laws and social customs with a view to improving our's wherever possible;—as a matter of fact, except in very minor matters, we preferred to leave our old and very simple laws as they stood.
"In the same way we send out many of our people to study medicine and surgery and engineering—in fact, all modern sciences: some things that we learn outside we use, other things we consider our people to be better without. I think that I should tell you that many of our doctors and other officials speak European languages;—I myself speak English, French and German. And, by the way, speaking of languages;—I hear that you have recognized that our language is ancient Greek; yes, it is as pure here now as that which Homer wrote in the Odyssey. But I am keeping you: if you will come with me I will show you our public buildings: they are not many, but they suffice our needs."
"Really," said Major Simonds, "I think we could very well occupy the whole morning by stopping here and just talking; there are endless questions that I would like to ask. However, we came out to see, so let us see;—and perhaps another time can be found when you can tell us more about your very interesting country."
"By all means; I shall be at your disposal at almost any time you wish; and it will please me to answer all you may ask to the best of my ability," Xerres agreed.
Descending the steps they crossed the crescent to the great boulevard, and followed Xerres into a large three-storied building. From the vestibule they entered a spacious room occupying the whole of the ground floor: in it a great number of young men and women were working on documents at wide tables that extended in halves across the room, leaving wide passages between the various tables. Their entrance seemed to excite no interest, for all continued their work quietly and unhurriedly. "This," Xerres explained, "is the People's Record Office and occupies the whole building. Here is kept the complete record of every man and woman in the state, from birth to death: everything is noted; serious illnesses and their grade of health generally; progress at school and special aptitudes as they appear; employment; marriages and offspring; divorces; crimes; anything and everything of interest. In five minutes we can turn up anyone's record."
"You must have a very efficient system to be able to do that!" suggested Terrant.
"Oh yes," answered Xerres, "it is efficient enough; we use card-indexing. Since we first came here we have been using the equivalent of your Christian, or given, names and surnames; also we have a further identification in the village or district in which the person is born."
"Could you turn up Calyce now?" asked Erskine.
"Why not? Let us do so," said Xerres, and beckoned to a girl who was working near by: after a few words to her he turned back and continued, "Taking Calyce as an example;—she is indexed as Calyce Ilias of Boeta; she was born in the district of Boeta and her surname is Ilias:—as a matter of fact, I expect that her first ancestor in this country came from Ilias in Greece and took that as a surname."
In a very few minutes the girl came back with two parchment books: opening the first at a certain page, they saw a complete genealogical tree extending over countless generations; Erskine read Calyce as the last name in that tree. Then opening the other book at a page headed "Calyce" and other words which Xerres explained were "of Boeta", they saw several lines of script which gave the record of her life:—Xerres translated, "Born in Boeta on—I am afraid you will not yet understand the date that follows—of Penidas and Macaria. Schooled at number seventeen; very intelligent, showed organizing ability and great interest in history and modern affairs. Illnesses;—well, I need not give them, they were not very serious. Employed;—in temple: clerk to the Council. Attendant to the visiting expedition from India. And the dates of employment are also given, but, as I said, you will not understand our calendar."
"Do you mean to say," Erskine ejaculated, "that her work with us is already recorded?"
"Certainly; that was entered on the evening that you arrived!"
"Jimminy!" murmured Erskine feelingly.
"Upstairs," continued Xerres, "the two floors are practically entirely devoted to the storage of the records, and are therefore like one of your public libraries; I don't suppose you want to go up there now?"
"No. I think that can wait," Simonds replied, and they turned to leave the building. But Xerres happened to hear a comment that Erskine made, more to himself than to the others. He had remarked, "A bad fire here would be a nasty affair; some of the documents must be extraordinarily interesting,—to say the least of it."
Xerres turned to Erskine appreciatively. "You are quite right, sahib: some of the documents here would be hailed in Europe or America as the most interesting finds made in centuries; I must show you some of them one of these days; perhaps later on you will be able to read our language for yourselves without too much trouble; you could then study them, and I think they would keep you fully interested. As to fire,—there is really practically no danger of that: these buildings are constructed entirely of stone, even to the shelves upstairs: and no work is carried on here except by daylight, so there are never any lights or any form of fire."
"What happens during the winter?" asked Terrant. "Isn't it cold here?"
"Yes; we have it very cold here for three or four months in the year; and, of course, artificial heating is necessary," Xerres answered. "But we overcome that, I think, satisfactorily. All these open spaces in the walls we close by windows that are now slid back into cavities and hidden. The windows are glazed, and unfortunately we have so far had to import all glass suitable for panes;—we make rough glass and expect very soon to overcome other troubles. Then look at this grill;" and he uncovered a dark opening in the wall, "our buildings are heated by hot air that circulates round them through hollow walls and floors, and these grills can be opened as desired. The hot air is led from a special furnace house, at a distance, to the buildings by underground passages which are arranged to heat about six buildings of this size, or smaller ones. We find this a very satisfactory way of keeping ourselves warm during the winter, and it really eliminates all danger of fire. You must see one of our heating houses one of these days."
"For my part," Simonds commented, "I think that your heating system gives points and a beating to the haphazard way in which we manage it in our towns: apart from everything else, your way should be much cheaper, and probably keeps the houses far warmer and more healthy. But how do you import things?"
"There's no doubt, it is far cheaper," Xerres agreed, "and if you were here for a winter I think you would feel confirmed in your opinion on the other two points. For importing things, we have our agents in Europe to purchase for us; and we bring our things into the country by an easier route than from India."
Evidently the hour for lunch had arrived, for the workers were tidying up the documents on which they had been engaged and were leaving the building. Xerres exclaimed with surprise, "We have taken much longer than I anticipated and the offices are closing now. I will come for you earlier to-morrow morning and we can finish off all these public buildings: then I can devote a day to explaining our social customs and services."
So, joining the crowd of workers who now thronged the streets, they returned to the temple enclosure and their quarters. Calyce, who was awaiting them with the other girls, exchanged a brisk conversation with Xerres which she ended with blushes and a cheerful peal of laughter. Xerres then explained to them that Calyce had asked what they had seen; he had told her that they had been so interested that they had got no further than the People's Records and how, at Erskine's request, they had examined her register and seen how many contracts of marriage she had already entered into;—it was this that had caused her merriment.
AFTER lunch, WHICH they found ready for them, Erskine rose to his feet and wandered towards his room.
"Going to sleep again, Jerks?" asked Terrant with drawling maliciousness.
"I am here to learn as much as I can." And Erskine's tone was very superior. "I am now going to study the language of the country. If you will study the wine of the country with just one more glass, I feel sure that nothing will disturb you! Dormez bien;—that is French, by the way; one of my attainments."
"Get out,—Solomon!" rejoined Terrant.
"Now what exactly did he mean by that?" Erskine mused to himself;—"Solomon, I remember, was very wise; well, that's me all right. Also he had many concubines; of course, I'm not that sort at all,—I can't afford them. And let's see, what else did the old bird do? Oh yes,—he made all sorts of clever remarks—proverbs or something; that's it, of course: dear, dear; what a roundabout way of saying a thing." But by this time he was facing Calyce, which gave him other things to think about. As a matter of fact he did put in a couple of hours of serious work with her; and by this time he was again quite familiar with the Greek alphabet and was compiling a dictionary suitable for his own use.
Towards sunset the girls arrived, bringing special robes which they were to wear that evening: like some of those that they had seen in the procession to the temple, they were black and lavishly embroidered with gold thread. Having donned his, Simonds said that he felt rather like a fancy-dress ball; a remark that Erskine elaborated by adding, "Exactly! and I'm going as Solomon"—with a snigger in Terrant's direction, to which the latter drily replied "Quite! You needn't fear that anyone will take you for a lily of the field."
Erskine, unable to think of any devastating retort, merely winked at the major and tapped his head significantly.
Xerres came in due course, saying it was time for them to be making their way to the temple, and they followed him full of anticipation of they knew not what, but at the same time feeling rather like small boys, newly arrived at school, being led off to interview the head master.
At the entrance to the temple they all removed their sandals, and, while doing so, stared expectantly through the wide-flung doors; but the interior was so dimly lit that they were unable to distinguish anything.
Having entered, their eyes soon became accustomed to the gloom and they perceived that they were the first arrivals, or that no one else was to be there, as the vast space was empty. On either hand was a row of carved marble columns that disappeared into the darkness overhead; and between the columns hung lamps that gave out but a feeble glimmer of light;—they were of attractive shape and held wicks floating in oil.
From a stone slab just within the doors Xerres took four long tapers and gave one to each of them while retaining the last for himself; these they then lit at one of the lamps, of which several near to the slab seemed to be provided for that purpose.
Following Xerres into the darkness that lay before them, they came to the far end of the great chamber and found themselves facing a black curtain that occupied the centre of the wall; this they gathered must cover the entrance to a shrine, for it swayed gently in a light draught. He then placed them in a position parallel to the right edge of the curtain and facing inwards; and at this moment a sound at the doors attracted their attention.
Entering was the same procession that they had seen the previous evening. Each, as they came in, took a taper and lit it as they had done; and then the groups of men and girls advanced towards them and, opening out, formed up and faced inwards,—those on their side being behind them. Finally the old man and two women, whom they took to be the chief priest and priestesses, occupied a position similar to their's on the other side of the curtain.
The doors were closed; but now the darkness was relieved by the flickering light of the hundreds of burning tapers: on the other hand, the silence was intense, thus heightening the feeling of awe and expectation.
Suddenly the place was filled with sound; a hymn, melodious and haunting, was chanted in subdued tones. And then in the silence that followed the old man, facing the curtains, uttered a few sentences. Xerres explained that he was the chief priest and that his name was Calchas; the two women, Athenais and Nausicaa, were the chief priestesses, and the three of them were also what was known as the Chief Advisers.
Before he could add more the curtains parted and disappeared above; and all seated themselves cross-legged on the floor.
As they had expected, a small shrine or sanctuary was discovered by the parted curtains. Light streamed down from some hidden source above and was reflected in every conceivable colour from innumerable jewels that studded every portion of a dazzlingly white marble throne. The throne itself was mounted on a dais, which was approached on all four sides by five steps: and behind the throne hung another curtain,—but in this case white as the throne itself.
Then a voice spoke softly; it seemed to issue from the sanctuary, from the very throne,—from a sanctuary and throne that were starkly empty. And all except the Chief Advisers and themselves silently rose to their feet and, blowing out and replacing their tapers, issued forth into the deepening dusk. And behind them the doors closed.
The white curtains stirred; and parting them there emerged a veiled figure, robed in gossamery white, unembellished by any adornment; it mounted to the dais and seated itself on the throne: so smooth and silent were its movements that scarcely did it appear to walk, rather it seemed just to arrive—effortlessly.
The veil fell from its head, and they gasped in wonder:—such perfection of beauty was incredible, impossible; the hair gleaming and golden in its coiled masses; the forehead smooth and white,—but all the face was white, it seemed that only in the lips was any tinge of red; fine, dark eyebrows above eyes of startling blue; teeth, small and even—and white; shoulders and arms, fine and smooth and white as the marble on which the latter rested; hands and fingers, slender and tapering. And just one jewel relieved this poem in white; on one finger gleamed redly a great ruby set in gold.
Terrant sighed;—to himself it seemed that he had held his breath since time began: and the blue of her eyes met his and kindled into flame the spark that had lain softly glowing since the night of a dream.
Erskine excitedly whispered to Simonds, "Major, it is she! It was she who came to me when I was ill!" But Simonds, spellbound, gently murmured, "How unutterably beautiful! A man would give his soul for her"—and thereby he spoke a true word,—and was to learn its truth.
Very soon after she had seated herself a large white Persian cat stalked in and, jumping up on to the arm of the throne, laid itself down and glared fixedly at the strangers.
"Same old cat, too!" Erskine muttered.
Then, in perfect English, the lady addressed them—"I am glad to welcome you to Saria; and I hope that your journey was not as arduous as it might have been, though I fear that you met with grave difficulties and dangers." Speaking expressly to Erskine, she continued, "And you;—I hope you are now quite recovered"—a slow smile passed over her face—"you were very ill, weren't you? What is your name, people call you so many things?" Erskine coloured and stammered somewhat, but eventually became intelligible: "My name really is Erskine, but friends usually call me Jerks"; and with a look at Terrant, "some people sometimes invent funny names to call me, but, of course, one takes no notice!"
Then addressing Terrant, she asked, "And do you now believe that there possibly is something in this story of the Marble Goddess? Yes! But it is certainly a great pity that she is so ancient and hag-like;—I am sorry!" And then, "Xerres tells me that your name is Simonds, and that the affairs on which you have come here are very serious! Don't be too serious,—I would like you to enjoy your visit to Saria. I think we shall be great friends," and with a light smile that was almost mischievous she added, "and I am not serious always."
Then she inquired if they found their quarters comfortable; and if Saria and its customs were proving interesting. And she begged them to rest themselves and not to attempt to learn everything in a few days. She concluded by saying, "Of course, it is a pity that you cannot read and understand ancient Greek, for I think it would interest you to read our history: perhaps you would like to learn our language, so I have arranged that a teacher who speaks English shall attend you every day: I understand that Erskine,"—and she smiled penitently to him, "Jerks is very busy learning already; I believe he finds his instructress proficient. Tell Xerres anything you wish for, and believe that all of us here are your friends. I must now consult with my advisers, so I will wish you good night; but I will see you again soon. Xerres will open the doors for you."
Their interview had been very short and there were many questions that they would have liked to ask; moreover they would all have delighted in even remaining silent and absorbing her beauty and the soft tones of her voice; but unquestionable authority was her's and informed her every word. So it was that unhesitatingly they rose and left that hall and thus soon regained their rooms.
Once there they had much to talk over. Simonds glanced at each of them in turn, then said: "Well? I don't know what you fellows think; I myself can't make head or tail of it! I think that we've just met a very charming and amazingly beautiful lady. And here, in the middle of nowhere, she speaks English as well as you or I. She seems to be an ordinary human being and yet knows all about our journey—I suppose she could have found out all that from Hernam Singh or someone, but somehow I can't imagine it of her—and she appears to know what you, Terrant, once said about her. And both of you are convinced you have seen her before in dreams or trances or something;—at least you are, Jerks; what about you, Terrant?"
"Good Lord, yes! She's the same! She looks about twenty, and Yusuf Khan talks of her having been here for centuries! Deuced little marble about her anyway,—though she is very pale and white."
"Do you suppose she was there at all?" suggested Erskine. "Or do you think that someone hypnotized us or something, and made us think we saw her?"
"I'm sure I don't know what it feels like to be hypnotized," Simonds replied, "but everything seemed normal enough: and if that's it, why worry to bring in the cat?"
Terrant exclaimed: "I'm absolutely certain there was no hypnotism about it: I'm sure that she is what we saw. And besides that, who hypnotized us when Jerks and I saw her before? Hypnotism, my aunt! No, we're up against something bigger than that, and I believe we shall know all about it before we're done!"
"At any rate, you hope you will—all right, old boy, we all hope so!" Erskine began facetiously, but ended hurriedly when he saw that Terrant was about to apply disciplinary measures.
Simonds summed up, "There is one thing that is quite certain; and that is that we don't know what's what, and no amount of talking will make us any clearer in our ideas. The important things are that evidently she knew we were coming, long before we got here; also it seems that she wished us to come; and now she makes us thoroughly welcome and wants us to learn everything possible about the country. Why she wants all this I suppose we shall know when it suits her convenience. Personally, I am going to rest content awhile in ignorance."
Early next morning Hernam Singh and Yusuf Khan presented themselves: the former explained that they and the porters were to move their quarters at once to a place outside the temple enclosure and that on the previous evening they had been taken to see their new lodgings. They were very pleased with the building; it was on one side of the parade ground and next to one of the large barracks there: and he suggested that this was very interesting in that apparently no activity on the part of their hosts was to be hidden from any of them.
Major Simonds agreed and said that he and the two others would soon visit them in their new quarters: he went on with the hope that all found the climate good,—or as it runs in the native dialect, that the "water and air" were good; to this Hernam Singh and Yusuf Khan were as one in agreement that not only the water and the air but also the food were excellent and the people very agreeable. Hernam Singh was almost excited about their move for, as he said, "Now, sahib, I shall see these people drilling, and I shall soon know if they make good soldiers;" and his eyes brightened so that, when they had gone, Simonds ventured, "Terrant, I bet you five rupees that within a week Hernam Singh will be drilling one of their regiments himself!"
Terrant laughed: "All right, major, I'll take your bet on the faint possibility that they won't let him drill them or that the words of command are all different and that he hasn't learnt them yet: personally, barring such accidents, I think he'll be doing it within three days!"
Erskine now hurriedly left the room, to return in a moment dressed in a pair of shorts and a towel. "I don't know about you fellows, but I'm going for a bathe: I don't mind if you don't feel like it, as I think that the swimming-bath is meant for solitude."
"Damn the blighter!" Terrant exclaimed. "I'll solitude him; coming, major?"
They were both equally pleased with the idea and wasted no time in following Erskine: they arrived quietly and found him floating in the crystal water with eyes closed; muttering "What a horrible sight!" Terrant dived in and took vengeance for many jibing remarks by pulling Erskine under by the feet and holding him there until he thought a sufficiency of water had been swallowed. Simonds stood on the bank laughing heartily at their antics, and added to the confusion by jumping almost on to the top of them. Peace then reigned, and a sharp swim put the final edge to their appetites for breakfast, to which they returned in a few minutes.
That evening, in accordance with a suggestion that Xerres had made, the girls acted as their guides and companions on a visit to see Hernam Singh, Yusuf Khan and the porters. And this inaugurated a profitable habit, for on such walks they steadily improved their colloquial Greek while wandering amongst the shops and making small purchases, or seeing buildings and views of minor interest. For more serious study they had now arranged that their teacher should come every day after lunch.
Leaving the temple enclosure they turned to the right and followed the wall; then bearing again slightly to the right they entered what might have been taken for a country lane in England; seeming to have no particular desire to arrive at any definite place, it bent and meandered vaguely on in the shade of the great trees that lined it: on each side were small and trim little bungalows set down haphazard in gardens cheerfully arrayed with flowering shrubs and blooms of every hue. Once or twice some blaze of colour or some sweet scent that poured out in an intoxicating stream called to them to halt and admire, so that by the time they reached its end sunset and evening were almost upon them. And the end came abruptly; turning a corner, instead of the gentle gloom to which they were now accustomed they were faced by a great, bare plain that glowed in the light of the sinking sun; this was the parade ground and, as Terrant remarked, there was space enough to manoeuvre a division of all arms on it.
Along the side by which they approached and on the two that adjoined it were rows of barracks; and behind the buildings on the side furthest from the city were horse-lines, artillery and wagon parks and workshops. The side right across the parade ground was open, and only enclosed in the far distance by occasional gardens and farm lands.
Following the edge, the first barrack they came to was that which housed their men; this was a comparatively small one and therefore admirably suited to accommodate their party: on the ground floor were separate apartments, in one of which they found Hernam Singh and in another Yusuf Khan; the porters were in large rooms on the first floor up. Above them was another floor, but this was unoccupied.
Hernam Singh and Yusuf Khan were thoroughly pleased, and informed them that the men were equally comfortable and satisfied. As they already knew that the food was good and plentiful they could dismiss all worry with regard to their men, on these counts at any rate.
Hernam Singh was looking a bit important; at last, lowering his voice, he said that he had watched some regiments drilling during the afternoon. "And, sahib, they have many native officers from the Indian Army as instructors, and they use our words of command. They are fine men and they drill quite well,—in fact I would not be ashamed to drill them myself." Simonds and Terrant glanced at each other and grinned knowingly; but Hernam Singh continued: "I saw a man I used to know in my own village; also he was a risaldar in the 40th Sikh Lancers: I spoke to him and told him I would like to see for myself how they answered to the command: he is going to ask for permission, and I think that I shall drill a squadron to-morrow!"
"And I think that I can kiss my five rupees goodbye!" said Terrant glumly, but his expression was positively beaming.
"No," Simonds replied, "I think I shall hand it to you: for, after all, you thought he would bring it off in three days, while I allowed him a week;—a week, forsooth!"
Erskine, of course, had something to say; he suggested, "If it will help you at all, I think a just solution would be for you both to pay me—and then we shall all be happy. I'll buy Calyce a present and she'll be happy too!" But somehow this bright idea did not seem to meet with any noticeable enthusiasm.
While Terrant went upstairs with Hernam Singh to inspect the men's rooms, Yusuf Khan asked Major Simonds how he was progressing with his investigations; the latter replied that, so far, he had met with no cause to think that Saria intended to create trouble on the frontier. Certainly their visit was proving well worth the journey; it was an interesting, in fact wonderful little country: and they were justified in forming an appreciable army,—and importing arms for it,—with a view to the defence of their state and independence.
"And, sahib bahadur," Yusuf Khan asked, "what about this goddess; have you seen her?"
"Yes, we have seen her for a few minutes. But, Yusuf Khan, I cannot tell you anything much about her; she appears to be a young, clever and very beautiful woman; and she certainly seems to be possessed of very unusual powers. That is all I can say; perhaps with time we shall learn more."
Yusuf Khan lowered his voice almost to a whisper, glancing behind and to each side, "I find it very difficult to learn anything about her, sahib: I too have heard that she is very beautiful, though few seem to have ever seen her. But young!—They say she has been here for centuries; their fathers and their fathers' fathers, for countless generations, knew of her and some saw and spoke to her. They all fear her and yet trust her and even love her. And you say she appears to be young! It is all very strange and I do not understand."
Terrant now returned; and as darkness was approaching they started on their way homewards. Calyce and Erskine imperceptibly fell back behind the others and soon Calyce was somehow snuggled against him under his arm. Erskine found it very comforting: and suddenly he realized that he had already become more than just fond of her; he thought to himself that in Calyce he had found the very girl he needed—cheerful, bright and clever, and as pretty as a picture. "Great Scott!" he muttered to himself, "I could look at her first thing in the morning any day in the week—and like doing so. And no man could say more than that."
But at that moment Calyce pointed to a little bungalow that they were passing and which was evidently unoccupied. "I think that would be very nice for you and me," she said; and Erskine quite understood her even if she was speaking Greek; and so pleased was he that his arm involuntarily squeezed her, and then—they were locked in an embrace and lost in a kiss.
"This is damn serious;" thought he, "but I don't care a tinker's curse if it is. But I wonder what the rules are here: and, by jove, what will the major say?" For by this time, as they hurried to catch up the others, it was quite clear that Calyce bore herself in a different manner; he felt somehow that she now had an air of proprietorship—and that he was the property; so he had to stop and kiss her again, just to show that two could feel like that.
She parted from him quite naturally and as usual at the door of the living room, but Erskine was rather worried by now; he knew that he was seriously in love with her, but thoughts of how the authorities of Saria might look at it, what were the laws of the country, and all the unknown horrors of diplomacy put him in a very subdued frame of mind. He managed to throw off any dejection, however, with the thought that he would somehow contrive to talk the matter over with her, and if necessary he could consult Xerres.
A DAY passed, spent easily enough, and now being thoroughly rested, they began to crave for bodily exercise. To Xerres they broached the subject of shooting and from him learnt with some excitement that in certain of the heights surrounding them Ovis Poli might be said to abound; moreover he intimated that he thought that an expedition could be arranged for them. Ovis Poli is a rare species of mountain sheep and carries a beautiful head; it is only to be found in the high country of central Asia where Marco Polo, after whom it is named, first recorded its discovery.
And so it turned out; but the information that all the preparations had been completed came to them in a manner that they little anticipated. Soon after settling down to their various occupations after their evening meal Calyce came to them, breathless and eyes sparkling: with words and gestures she made them understand that they were to go to the temple, that the lady wished to see them, that she was even now awaiting them.
Gladly enough they followed Calyce through the darkness to the temple doors; she pushed open one leaf and, standing back, motioned to them to enter and then softly closed the doors behind them.
The black curtains were drawn apart and it seemed for a moment that they were looking at the lighted stage of a theatre occupied by one eye-arresting object—the white throne, sparkling with jewels, and the Marble Goddess. For a few moments they remained motionless, scarcely breathing, then she smiled and through the vast emptiness they heard the soft tones of her voice saying "Come, my friends!" Near to the throne they bowed to her with some embarrassment, for just how were they to address her—always formally, as a political deputation to a friendly reigning sovereign or as men to an exquisitely beautiful young woman greeting them with a smile of welcome? And then, naturally, the thought came to them "Young woman?"—but surely they must credit the evidence of their own eyes! She, however, evidently sensed their feeling and soon put them at their ease. "This evening we can talk together for a little while and learn to know each other: but first, we can make you more comfortable than that stone floor will permit." And as she spoke the curtains behind the sanctuary parted for the two chief priestesses, who entered carrying armfuls of cushions; these they piled on the floor in front of her and silently retired.
As soon as they were comfortably seated before her she went on, "Xerres tells me that you would like to stalk some of our mountain goat and I know that great sport can be obtained on our borders; he is now arranging an expedition and, if you wish, you can start to-morrow. The best district at this time of year is outside of our country and to the north—about a day and a half's journey from here. Some of our men will act as porters for they know the country and will enjoy going with you; but perhaps you would like to take one or both of your head-men?"
During this time she had been looking from one to another, studying each of them in turn, but latterly her eyes had been caught, and held, by Terrant's, whose every sense was concentrated on her. Slowly her smile faded, while the expression in her eyes softened; her eyelids drooped and closed and she shivered slightly. Simonds naturally had been gazing at her as she spoke and at her sudden change he watched her, speechless; suddenly he turned to Terrant and saw that he was sitting forward, rigid, and staring at her intently: "Good God!'" he muttered under his breath. But with another shiver she opened her eyes and the constraint that was upon him passed: he answered, as if no interval had occurred, "I think it would be a good thing if Hernam Singh stayed with our porters while Yusuf Khan could come with us,—he understands our ways and would be a great help when we stalk."
"Well, that is settled," she said. But Simonds noticed that while she had now fully regained her former smiling composure she no longer looked in Terrant's direction. Then she went on "There is one thing;—I hope you will not take it amiss if you are blindfolded when you pass through the mountains; I think you will understand that we have a very strict law about it!"
To this they all agreed willingly enough and Terrant, who was now leaning back comfortably but still gazing at her fixedly, through half-closed eyes, added "That must be a wonderful passage into Saria; I must admit I would like to see it some day."
"Perhaps you shall later on," she replied—but did not look towards Terrant in doing so.
"There is another thing I must speak about;" she continued, "I am afraid that certain of my people tried to take matters into their own hands, and turned you back during your passage through the gully; I am sorry that you should have met with this discourtesy but am glad to know that they did no great harm:—luckily news of their intended treachery came to me in good time."
"Thank you," Simonds acknowledged, "no harm at all was done except that, for a time, we were afraid we had taken a long journey for nothing: and later we saw that they were very severely punished!"
"Such treachery as that was unforgivable: certainly they were only the tools of someone who remains hidden, but they knew that they were acting without my orders—if not against them." She replied firmly; and still unsmiling "I have heard too that your guide was set upon in Rawal Pindi and that later your porters were nearly persuaded to desert; someday I shall know who arranged all these difficulties for you, and then there shall be a reckoning!"
As the significance of these words came to their understanding, their expressions clearly showed the surprise with which they were assailed and Erskine blurted out "Great Scott! How on earth did you know that? Nobody but ourselves and Yusuf Khan and old Moti All ever knew a word about it!"
She smiled, "How shall I explain, Jerks? But did you not once see me long before you arrived here; and you, Terrant, did you not see me once—or twice?"
They stared at her, for some moments speechless, and Terrant was the first to put his thoughts into words; in a low voice he unburdened his mind, "Twice I saw—you; and now I see—you: but I wonder if it is true!"
At last she looked at him again eye to eye and, smiling sadly, answered, "Yes Terrant, it is true; but you cannot understand yet awhile." She relapsed into silence and was so sunk in thought that they too held their peace; and soon they were filled with wonder, for now she was still and motionless and without colour as a statue; and doubt assailed them as to whether they had heard her words, or had it all been a dream.
And then she roused, and again her soft tones came to their ears, dispelling their doubts and imaginings;—"There are many things that I shall not try to make you understand fully—as yet; but perhaps you begin to realize that there are powers which all can use if they have the knowledge. Do you remember the afternoon of your arrival here and how you sat in the garden after your lunch? And Jerks climbed a tree. And then I think you all heard someone calling him?" She laughed gaily, mischievously, at the guilty expressions portrayed by them all. "I told you the other day, Simonds, that I am not always serious;—I called to Jerks,—not because he was doing anything wrong, but for—what do you say?—for fun: and you were very funny when you could not find where my voice came from!"
"But where were you?" Erskine demanded, "I had a jolly good look round!"
She became lightly serious—as if she were explaining something to children, something that was beyond their immature intelligence, "I was there,—but not as you see me now; I was there as I was when Jerks was ill and as I was at another time, Terrant; and as I was many times without any of you being aware of it!"
"Do you mean to say," Simonds asked, hesitatingly—as if his mind stumbled at its own thoughts, "do you mean that you can see and hear people—and be seen by them if you wish—when they are far away?"
"Simonds," she answered, "there is no such thing as distance, there are no boundaries, to the mind. But that is enough for to-day; we must give up these serious thoughts: and you will need rest if you are to enjoy your shooting trip. Leave me now; and Xerres will tell you in the morning what arrangements he has made."
They rose to their feet and, wishing her good night, silently went their way to the doors: opening one of these they turned for a last look at her with whom they had spoken, but the far end of the hall was in darkness.
With a toneless "good night" Terrant went straight to his bedroom, leaving Simonds and Erskine nonplussed,—for they had both thought to discuss some details to do with the shooting trip. Erskine turned with raised eyebrows and an inquiring look, to which Simonds replied with a shrug of his shoulders and then—"God knows how this is going to end!"
"All very well," went on Erskine, "for her to say that it's true that we see her—I suppose that's what she meant; and if so, what is she—a deuced nice girl of about 20? And if so, what are all these durned stories? And anyway, she looks too damned pale to be human; when she sits still she looks like a marble statue! And yet—Oh damn!"
"I almost begin to wish we had never come," Simonds regretted. "Terrant is such a damned good chap and I can't see a hope of anything but trouble in store. What's that woman, or whatever she is, up to? She seems to admit that she made him dream about her, and what was the point of doing that—and for that matter, how did she do it? Good God, what a mess! I'm not at all sure that she doesn't want him—and any man she wanted would sell his soul I should think. No use at all talking now; let's go to bed."
The next morning Terrant was cheerful and talkative, more himself than he had been for a long time; in fact, thinking back, Erskine came to the conclusion that Terrant had been silent—almost morose—since that day in Fateybad when he had narrated the details of a haunting dream. Having thought to this conclusion Erskine looked across at Simonds and caught his eye; the latter evidently divined his thoughts for he pursed his lips and shrugged: and on the principle of allowing sleeping dogs to lie, they refrained from any mention of the previous evening's interview. And very soon Xerres came to them with the information that everything would be ready for their start in an hour's time, and that Yusuf Khan was delighted at the prospect of going with them.
The short time left to them, after their breakfast, was fully occupied in preparing their camping outfit and rifles, all of which in the short time since their arrival seemed to have got mixed up or mislaid: the three girls were there and only anxious to assist them,—though this statement must be qualified in the case of Calyce, who succeeded in giving Erskine to understand that she thought she ought to be going with them in order to be able to look after him, and that she feared he was quite incapable of looking after himself: and in one way or another she was most successful in delaying his packing until, being urged by Terrant to hurry, he picked her up in his arms and planted her on a couch; this pleased Calyce, and she wound her arms round his neck and kissed him—thus was further delay.
They got off to time, however, with a party of forty men, obviously trained soldiers all of them, and fifteen donkeys; the loads of two of the donkeys intrigued them, for they could not be recognized as any property of their's or as any ordinary camp equipment, likewise the fact that thirty of the men were armed with rifles: and Xerres, on being questioned answered with a smile that outside the mountain ring they were no longer in their own country and so it were well to be prepared for any eventuality; further that the two loads would probably never be used but were taken for the same reason.
Uneventfully they marched across the open country, were blindfolded and carried through the mountains and, on being set down, found the deserted village, near which they had camped, now teeming with life. And so through the gully and out on to the plain until, having got well clear of the entrance, they had their first halt and meal.
Xerres proved a good companion; he was in high spirits and kept up a brisk conversation, chiefly with Terrant; he admitted that an outing like this was one of his greatest joys in life and that he was most grateful to them for providing an excuse for an unexpected shoot: and he explained that he wished to advance another five or six miles that afternoon which would bring them to a good camping place; then on the morrow they would climb—first for two or three thousand feet up bare hillside, then for some hours through jungle, after which they would find themselves in the real mountain country where the sport was sure to be good.
They pressed on and as the sun was setting came gratefully to the goal of the day's rapid march—a recess in a ridge that extended from the mountains for some miles out into the plain; from it a stream chattered down and, after forming a quiet pool amongst the rocks, flowed sluggishly for a short way and then suddenly disappeared into the ground.
Xerres pointed this out and went on to tell them that this was doubtless the cause of an unpleasant phenomenon which he promised to show them on the next day from the heights of the ridge above;—all the country lying just to the left of their path that afternoon and between it and the mountain wall, some four miles wide, formed a treacherous series of quicksands which invariably proved to be certain death to anyone attempting to cross them who did not know the invisible but none the less definite paths of safety.
The following morning they climbed straight up on to the ridge above their camp,—at that point only a matter of about five hundred feet,—and finding that thence they could obtain an unobstructed view of a great expanse of country, they halted and examined the heights above them, and in particular the part over which they would start their stalking.
The view held them for, in the clear morning air, the mountains rose sharp-cut, a towering wall that, to their left, fell sheer to the plain, while immediately above them and to their right the descent was comparatively easy and, over the lower portion, covered with dense jungle. Then turning, they looked over an endless plain, grey-white and already beginning to shimmer in the heat of the sun.
Xerres now called their attention to the part that lay below them and between the ridge and the mountain wall stretching towards the gully; it appeared to be exactly the same as any other part of the plain, but there it was that the quicksands lay, and it was on that account that they had made a wide detour on the day before,—one that had added several miles to the length of their march.
Taking a final look round, Terrant suddenly exclaimed, "What the deuce is that? It looks to me as if there must be a caravan or something over there!"
Following the direction of his out-pointing finger they could see as it were a little cloud that slowly drifted across the plain to the north; fully six miles away it was an indistinct, tenuous object that the eye could with difficulty hold. Xerres became keenly alert and in a few moments had picked it up through his field glasses; "You're right, Terrant sahib;" he agreed, "it is quite a large party, but I can't make out what they are through that dust: and I can't imagine, either, what they are doing here!"
He took down his glasses and turned to Simonds, "Would you mind, sahib, if we wait here until we can see something more of them; they are certainly coming in this direction; I suppose they are just a caravan of traders, but if so they are far off any beaten track and—I would like to be certain."
Simonds and the others were perfectly content, for a caravan crossing a desert is as interesting to meet or pass as another ship is on an empty ocean: so they settled down to wait,—they and Xerres and several of the acting porters watching through glasses firmly glued to their eyes. Minutes passed and became a quarter of an hour, half an hour, an hour, but still, owing to a light following breeze, they could get no hint of what was hidden by that approaching cloud of dust.
At last the party was so close as to be following the foot of the very ridge upon which they waited and, being sheltered from the breeze, the dust fell away: through the thinning mist they could perceive occasional gleams of metal which soon they could discern to be rifles. Then suddenly the whole party became clear to their view; a party of fully two hundred men marching in order on foot and disposed about some hundred laden mules.
Xerres gave an exclamation of dismay, "Who on earth can these be—and from the north, too?" and turning to a subordinate officer he gave some rapid orders. Men ran to one of the donkeys carrying the extra equipment and, unloading it, soon set up a heliograph while the rest of the party disposed themselves and the pack-animals as much as possible out of view; as the far side of the ridge however was here a precipice little could be done, not much more than to remain motionless.
Xerres meanwhile had been studying the intruders anxiously; now he turned to the others, "I am afraid they are Russians; the last people we wished to see: and I can only think that they are here definitely to search for Saria. I must send warning at once; we cannot permit them to find even the gully."
Then, after he had spoken a few words to the signallers, the helio began to click, flashing its message towards the mountains.
Terrant was about to ask Xerres where was the receiving station to which they were signalling, when the flickering glare of a far distant helio answered from between two snow-capped peaks: then followed the sharp chatter of a long message, spelt out in dots and dashes, to be answered in turn from the far away heights by the morsed symbols representing "Message read".
They all turned from the mountains to watch the little column below them, to find that it had come to a halt while a small group at its head were staring towards them. "The blighters must have seen the helio up there and spotted us in looking at it," Erskine suggested.
"I'm afraid that's about it," Xerres agreed. "The question is—what will they do now? I was hoping they would go straight on, in which case they would have run right into the quicksands."
"And then, I suppose, we would have had to go down and pull them out?" Terrant asked: but Xerres tersely replied, "No:—rather would we push them in: we don't want those people here, or anywhere near here; we don't trust them!"
Not for long were they left in doubt as to what the Russians would do; suddenly the column disintegrated into foreshortened figures that spread out and began to climb the ridge towards them and on each side.
"No use bolting;" said Xerres, "we had better hear what they have got to say."
Soon they were surrounded by a ring of stolid, bearded and travel-stained men who made way for three officers; these approached them in a leisurely fashion and, when still a few paces away, halted and scrutinized them in a manner so cold as to be insolent. For a moment Simonds returned their stare with a smile but, having absorbed their attitude, he turned, walked back two or three paces and seated himself upon a rock while Terrant, Erskine and Xerres, taking his cue, followed him and took up their stand behind him.
"Having seen the strangers, I suppose we may as well go on and look for the sheep now," Terrant suggested in a casual manner.
But, "Who are you and what are you doing here?" barked the elder of the Russians in faultless English.
"I might ask you the same questions," Simonds answered very coldly, "but as you have perhaps lost your way I will answer that we are what you already guess—English officers—and that we are on a shooting trip. Further, if we can assist you on your road, we will do so."
"Shooting trip!" the Russian sneered, and waved his hand towards their escort, "With all these armed soldiers? And a helio? Who was that to whom you were signalling?"
Simonds reddened with anger but answered calmly enough, "I am afraid I do not recognize your right to ask these impertinent questions. Perhaps you wish to continue your journey."
"I have every right," the other retorted, "you are on Russian territory without a permit and—you are in my power. You will now accompany us as our prisoners: as a matter of courtesy however—will you come peaceably or must I disarm you and conduct you by force?"
"I officially deny your right," Simonds rejoined, "this territory is Chinese,—if anybody's."
"This is Russian territory. Come!" and with a short order to his men the Russian turned to descend the hill.
But Xerres now spoke, in a low voice but very clearly, "Sahib, what about the party up there, looking for goat?" at the same time winking to Major Simonds who, after a moment's consideration, fell in with Xerres' implied suggestion and answered "I hope they will follow on,—we don't want them to starve."
As was hoped, the Russian heard these remarks and took the bait;—"So you have another party up there?" and he gazed undecidedly up the mountain slope.
"Yes," Simonds returned, "we sent them ahead to look for game."
Xerres now suggested, "Sahib, we could signal to them to return."
The Russian stared intently at Xerres and Simonds as if he would read their very thoughts; then, "No; I do not think that you shall signal them: but we will halt by that stream down there for a few hours; if they have not returned by this evening they must follow us or take their chance." And without further words he commenced the descent of the hillside.
They were so heavily outnumbered that resistance at that moment would be futile; Simonds therefore gave the order to his party to follow and, closely surrounded by the Russian soldiers, they obeyed—simmering with anger.
On the way down Xerres worked his way between Simonds and Terrant who were walking together. "Sahib!" he whispered, "I want to delay them here till evening; then I will try to lead them into the quicksands;—I think that will be the best way even though help will arrive from Saria during the night!"
"Good," Simonds answered, "things are in your hands; just tell us what to do." Terrant nodded agreement, but added, "Insufferable swine; I'd like to wring his neck!"
And so, a few minutes later, they found themselves again at rest on the spot where they had spent the previous night: but, while quite free to do as they pleased in the immediate precincts of the camp, the sentries posted around them were a constant reminder that they were definitely held by force.
Xerres came and stood at attention before them, and when Terrant pointed to a vacant camp chair he shook his head and explained that he thought it advisable to appear to be one of their native officers,—that this would bear out their statement that they were from India merely on a shooting trip: and he went on—"I feel sure that they are here to find Saria and that they suspect us. A strong relieving force will come to our aid and they should pass out of the gully about sunset, and when these Russians meet them they will fight—they will probably despise 'native' troops, even in large numbers: there are sure to be many casualties amongst our troops and in the mêlée we ourselves will be between two fires. So I want to avoid a fight if possible, and the only other way to escape from, and silence them is to lose them in the sands. If only by some means we can lead them into the middle I can manage the rest: I shall detail a few of our men to lead you, probably by separate paths, but you must follow closely, each of you his own guide, as the safe tracks are very narrow and twisting.
"Sahibs; you will do this and you will not interfere in any way?"
Terrant replied, and the other two nodded their agreement with his words, "It sounds a rather low down and cold-blooded way of defeating them:—of course I see your point—why should you suffer a lot of casualties? But I can't say I like the—Dr—method."
"I know, sahib;" Xerres answered pleadingly, "but please remember that perhaps my country is at stake: I cannot risk any news being taken back to Russia, and I think that that man is sure in his own mind that Saria—if such a place exists—lies behind these mountains: and having seen the helio right up on the crest will have added confirmation. Please sahibs, I must exterminate these people," adding firmly, "and I shall do so!"
These words, joined to his pleading, decided the Englishmen; after all, who were they to jeopardize Saria whose guests they were; moreover, in the ultimate issue, could they really do anything to prevent Xerres or the government of Saria from taking whatever steps were seen fit? Silently they looked at each other and without words they agreed.
Simonds answered; "Very well, Xerres; we will not interfere; do as you think best; tell us what to do and we'll do it."
Xerres smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Simonds sahib;" he said, "when the time comes you will be told what to do—and please, for your own sakes, act without delay."
Having accepted the situation, Terrant now made a suggestion that Xerres thoroughly approved of and accepted; he ventured, "How would it be if, as the light is fading, one of us says he could just see 'our other party' coming down from the ridge and points to a part that leads down into the sands: nobody else will see them of course, so he will offer to lead the way?"
"Yes, that should do;" Xerres agreed, "I will explain to one of my men who knows the sands well and he can do the rest."
But now they saw the senior Russian officer approaching their portion of the camp, and as their arrangements had been decided on they only mildly wondered what he would have to say. He came, smiling benignly, and thoroughly startled them with his first words; evidently in the interval he had come to the conclusion that his dictatorial attitude had been bad policy if not definitely dangerous: he said, "I wish to apologize for my very harsh words this morning: I was in a bad temper and now I am sorry."
Simonds bowed and replied coldly, "Thank you—I accept your apology; and I presume that you will now order the removal of those sentries."
This suggestion had evidently not been foreseen; for a moment he was nonplussed but, quickly regaining his suave manner, the Russian agreed "Certainly; as a matter of fact I had forgotten them," and he shouted an order which led to the return of the soldiers to their own camp. He then went on, "Have you been here long?" and on being replied to in the negative he asked, "Coming from the south as you did, can you tell me what is on the other side of those mountains?"
Simonds shook his head, "Just more mountains I suppose; and as far as we have seen there is no way into that bit of country anywhere south of here."
"Then you don't know if it is inhabited; or have you perhaps seen any people that may live there?"
"We haven't seen a soul," Simonds denied, "I don't think anyone lives within hundreds of miles of where we are now. But what are you doing here—scarcely a shooting trip?" and he looked towards the busy scene in the camp.
"Oh no;" the other laughed, "we are here quite officially; to be exact, one of my chief duties is to see that there are no trespassers like you. You understand, of course, that you must return to your own side of the frontier at once!"
Simonds very deliberately chose a cigarette from his case and equally carefully lit it from a match that Erskine offered him; then "I do not understand anything of the sort: I admit that you are in sufficient strength to force me; but—you are at least two hundred miles beyond your own frontier, and you know it!"
The Russian continued as if Simonds had not spoken; "We will accompany you for a few miles; I shall then detach a sufficient force, under one of my officers, to escort you to the neighbourhood of your own suzerainty; and they will have orders to see that you do not turn back."
Simonds shrugged his shoulders. "Very well, I suppose you know your own business. I protest formally now; and, of course, the matter does not end here!"
The other smiled and twirled his moustache. "I have my orders and they are quite clear," he replied: but Simonds had turned away and, followed by his companions, was strolling towards their Sarian escort who, standing grouped together, had been intently watching the conference.
As soon as they were out of earshot Terrant grunted, "Well,—that settles it as far as I'm concerned!" And to this Erskine added, "Same here. And what's more, I think Xerres is right—they're looking for Saria, and that bird thinks we're on the same job,—or is afraid we may stumble across the country by mistake."
They sat down amongst their baggage and, while Xerres conferred with his men, occasionally scanned the ridge through their field glasses which, Simonds suggested, would help to bear out their statement that they expected the return of their advance party.
And thus the afternoon slowly dragged its way until, when only about an hour remained to sunset, a disciplined stir in the Russian camp indicated their intention to start soon on the evening march. They then rose to their feet and with every appearance of anxiety searched the ridge with their glasses, up and down and throughout its length: and during this romancing an orderly brought a note to Major Simonds. It contained but few words, "Be so good as to be ready to start in twenty minutes," and was unsigned.
After a moment's thought Simonds pocketed this slip of paper, smiling grimly, and tearing a leaf from a notebook wrote the reply—"Our men should certainly be in sight within an hour; please delay start for forty-five minutes," signing it "G.F. Simonds, Major, 52 Cavalry," then handing it to the orderly, watched his return to his commander. With some misgiving they saw him reading it and then discussing its contents with his officers, and with a sigh of relief they acknowledged his sign of assent.
Time then took wings, while the sun seemed to have halted in its descent: periodically they searched the ridge and at last reluctantly gave the order to their porters to load up. A refractory mule in the Russian camp took offence and time and again kicked off his pack—it was not until later that they learnt that this delay had been caused by one of the Sarians succeeding in fixing a pin where it would cause most annoyance!
When the column of march was formed they found themselves in the centre, and just in front of the pack-animals; by now the sun was nearly down to the horizon and was but a red globe seen through the air-borne dust. As they were about to start, the first move in their plot was carried out; one of the Sarians shouted and was seen with glasses glued to his eyes and pointing with outstretched arm to a distant part of the ridge: Xerres went up and spoke to him and in his turn examined the ridge but after a moment turned away, shaking his head: he called out, "Sahib; this man saw the others coming down from the ridge over there; they are now hidden by some rocks; and soon it will be dark—perhaps they will miss us!"
The Russian Commander walked briskly down the line towards them, "What is it?" he asked, "Have you seen your men?"
"Yes." Simonds answered, "This man saw them coming down from the ridge somewhere over there!"
"Let the man lead us towards them," the other demanded, "I cannot permit some of your party to roam about here at a loose end; and perhaps they have not seen us amongst these bushes."
"Very well;" Simonds agreed, "we don't want to leave them either." And so the Sarian was taken to the head of the column, a start was made and the march proceeded under his guidance.
"This is rather a filthy affair;" Erskine muttered to Terrant, "and heaven knows what is going to happen. Xerres looks to me thoroughly peevish and, judging by what happened to that bunch of Sarians who interfered with us, I should say that the outlook for these birds is about as rosy as 8 o'clock of a certain nasty, cold morning for a condemned man. I wonder if we are amongst those durned quicksands now;—it seems firm enough, but no straying for me!"
"I'm sorry for these 'other ranks';" Terrant rejoined; "it's none of their business, poor devils, and I suppose every one of them will be wiped out in one way or another. Of course I can see Xerres' point of view, but—; well, we can't do anything anyway,—at least, nothing more than look after our own skins."
The sun had set some minutes ere this and now the short dusk was fading into darkness which the moon, just risen and looking like a great yellow orange, did nothing to lighten: the column was advancing briskly some distance from but parallel to the ridge and, ahead, the mountain wall of Saria towered black and indistinct to a fantastic ridge outlined sharply against the evening sky. And it seemed that some oppression weighed on the whole column, for the cheerful murmur of talk that had rippled up and down the line at the start had languished till officers and men, Sarians and Russians, plodded along stolidly and, as it were, without good will.
And then, in the twinkling of an eye, it had happened—a sudden squeal from a pack-mule in the rear and a hubbub of confusion: hands grasped those of the Englishmen who were dragged sharply to the flanks of the column and then away, each in a different direction; more slowly now, and guided with infinite care while the turmoil behind them rose in shouts punctuated by one or two rifle shots. Each, when they had gone thus for about fifty yards, was made by his guide to lie down and then, by facing inwards, they could just see a dark, seething mass of men and animals writhing undecidedly, while nearer to them shortened forms struggled, floundered and shouted—with panic in their voices. Other forms broke away from the main mass and took a few steps towards those who were already caught in the toils of the sand, intending to help them, to become ensnared themselves and to add their shouts to the clamour.
Then the mules, as if possessed of devils, began kicking and screaming, and the Englishmen, their eyes become used to the faint light from the rapidly brightening moon, saw the column exploding outwards,—some figures trying to escape from the kicking hooves and others flung out by struggling men joined the numbers whose feet were already held and whose frantic efforts to regain firm ground merely hastened their slow but inexorable end. More shots rang out and the terrified mules pranced and lashed out up and down the thinning line, and it became clear that some instinct informed them for they never strayed from the safe passage.
But few remained in the centre of that ghastly arena, and little groups of men, who they could now see were Sarians, flung themselves on isolated Russians and forced them off the solid path or hurled them bodily into the quaking sand. Then in the improving light, and the less crowded state of the causeway, the last of the Russians put up a slight, individual defence by shooting at their enemies; but the latter were too quick and their attack was too well organized and, though a few fell wounded or killed, the final decision was delayed for a few moments only, when every Russian who still lived was struggling helplessly and without hope, and sinking inch by inch until at last his agonized shouts were smothered and the sand hid him.
In the silence that fell thereafter their guides rose and led them back by paths which, now that the excitement was over, they found were twisting and confusing,—even in the short distance they had to traverse. Xerres met them and, after expressing his regret that they should have been compelled to witness so horrible a spectacle, begged them to go with their guides back to the old resting place: he and the other Sarians, he explained, would have to collect all the mules and donkeys and would follow as soon as possible. And under a placid and brilliantly shining moon they returned to camp in silence, soon to be joined by a very large number of pack-animals and a sadly reduced Sarian escort.
The next morning, after an almost sleepless night, they were aroused early,—Xerres wishing to return to Saria in all haste. After proceeding but a short way homewards they met the relieving force, or rather a portion of it; for they found that a small army of ten thousand men had been rushed to their assistance and that these, after emerging from the gully, had spread out in a great crescent and, advancing thus, enveloped their camp and the sands and all that might be contained in the country bordering the ridge.
Mounting spare horses that had been brought for them, Xerres and the Englishmen galloped off on the trail to the mountain passage, leaving the wounded and the pack-animals to follow with the army which, closing in and forming into column behind them, returned at ease.
And thus, towards evening, they found themselves passing through the city, thronged now with excited crowds eager to hear what had occurred. At the gates into the temple grounds they were met by Calyce and the two other girls, the three of them overjoyed at their safe return: but Calyce gazed at Erskine in silence, pressing her breast with her right hand, unshed tears glistening in her eyes; and, still silently, taking his hand in her's she accompanied them to their quarters while Xerres hurriedly entered the temple.
The following day Xerres told them that he had been right in his fears that the Russians were actually searching for Saria:—only a few documents and maps had been found amongst the baggage captured with the pack-animals, and the former, besides including definite orders to the commander to find and explore Saria and its potentialities, narrated in full all the rumours that had been heard about that little country and its supposed position.
On their questioning him, he told them briefly that the débâcle had been started by the Sarians filtering through and amongst the animals and, at a given signal, provoking them to frenzy by pricking them with their knives; then, immediately, they had caught the Russians unawares and, before the latter at all realized what was happening, had pushed most of them off the causeway.
The spot which they had chosen was an extraordinary place;—the comparatively wide passage of safety by which they had travelled led to a small island from which a large number of narrow paths diverged and continued, with many a turn, for a short distance only; how suitable a spot it was for their purpose the result showed; they themselves had lost only three men killed and twelve slightly wounded—a large percentage of their small party, certainly, but they had effectually dealt with two hundred enemies!
And this was the end of that unpleasant adventure that had terminated what they had expected would prove to be a most agreeable little expedition. At no time was the matter ever again mentioned in their presence, and they themselves found no benefit in discussing it and were only too glad to forget.
AFTER a day or two they started their sight-seeing again with Xerres. Entering the great boulevard, they stopped at the next building to that which they had already seen. This, also of three floors, was much smaller than the People's Records Office, and was attached to it; in fact, as Xerres explained, the two lots of offices were inter-communicating in every way: few people were engaged there as it was devoted solely to State records which required but little work from day to day. Here was stored the written history of the people since before they had even arrived in Saria; as soon as they were capable of it they would be allowed to study the documents: but he went on to suggest that for the moment there would be no particular interest to them in entering the building. Simonds, while agreeing to this, went on, "But where from, and how, did you first come here; of course, we understand that you must have come from Greece originally?"
Xerres smiled, "Oh yes, we come from Greece all right; but how and when it is not at present my privilege to relate to you: I think that probably Stesilea herself will tell you."
"Stesilea? Who is Stesilea?" asked Simonds; and Terrant exclaimed "So that is her name! Stesilea!"
Xerres nodded, "Yes, that is her name; and that is what she likes to be called by all."
"Tell me—" Terrant commenced, but Xerres interrupted him, "No, I cannot tell you anything more; if she wishes you to know more she will tell you herself."
With that they had to be content, so they proceeded down the boulevard. The next building was large and square and stood by itself, well set back from the roadway in its own grounds; people were entering and leaving it continually.
"This," said Xerres, "contains our magistrates' courts. Let us go in and see what is going on this morning. I have told you already that our laws here are very few and very simple:—practically every case is judged on its merits alone and by the laws of common sense. We do not have lawyers to intervene between the magistrate and the people: with us the law is not a profession; even the magistrates have little to study and are men who may be chosen from any walk in life for their uprightness and discrimination. Of course we suffer from but few criminals, and those few meet with very firm treatment."
They entered the building and turned through an open doorway into a room on one side. This, evidently a court-room, was simple in the extreme; it was large and bare and was furnished only with a big table and three or four chairs.
At the table was seated a middle-aged man, the magistrate; and the breadth and height of his forehead demonstrated a keen intelligence which was further borne out by his eyes; his expression, though intent and firm, was kindly and sympathetic. In front of him, on the table, lay a small file of documents,—the Personal Record of the defendant. On one side of the magistrate was seated a clerk and on the other hand stood a man in khaki uniform who, Xerres explained was a sort of policeman and warder combined. In front of the table stood a middle-aged woman, a typical, buxom housewife; she was hot and angry; and a little way from her was a boy, about twelve years of age, and a young man of little more than thirty.
The proceedings had evidently only just commenced and Xerres explained and interpreted as the case developed. The boy was the defendant and the young man his father; the woman complained that the boy had lately formed the habit of knocking at the door of her house and then running away; she was thus disturbed in her household work,—besides being made hot with annoyance.
The magistrate asked the boy if this was true and, being answered in the affirmative, continued, "Your manners are shown to be bad and your parents must try to improve them; also you are a public nuisance! Your holidays are just starting:—for three weeks you shall go every day with a public messenger and you shall knock at the doors of every place to which he has to deliver a message; and every evening for one hour you shall knock at the door of an empty house, with bare knuckles, under the supervision of one of the Public Guard."
The woman grinned cheerfully and went out followed by the father, boy and Public Guardian.
The case was finished and no other complainant entered the court. The clerk inscribed the bare details of the case in the boy's record.
During the proceedings they had been standing against the wall on one side of the doorway: a few loiterers entered and listened and went out as they pleased: Xerres told them that the courts were open to all, as in other countries, but very few people came and such a thing as applause was quite unknown. They did not believe in the jury system as they considered that only a keen intellect was fit to judge a case.
Crossing to the other side of the building, they entered a similar court-room. Here a genial-looking, elderly man was prosecuting a young man; he charged that the defendant was a goldsmith and had wished to set up a business of his own; the prosecutor had provided the required capital. Apparently the business had not prospered and the defendant had told him that all the capital was gone. But the defendant continued to live in great ease and comfort, as if still in good circumstances: the prosecutor wished to get some of his money back.
The magistrate asked what stock remained at the business premises, and was answered by the prosecutor that there was really nothing of any value there: he then asked the defendant if he owed many debts and he was answered—no, there were none. Then how was the defendant living? On certain other monies of his own. What did these other monies amount to? A quite small sum. What employment had he accepted? He had not as yet found any. The magistrate abruptly finished the case;—"There is plenty of employment if you had sought it: you should be paying back to the prosecutor a share of the monies that he found for you,—for it was through you that those monies are bringing him no return. I think that you lie when you say that you have only a small sum on which you are living, and in any case you should have accepted employment and have paid some money to the prosecutor. You will now work with the 'Forced Labour;' I will review the case in three months' time."
They followed Xerres out of the court-room and sat down on a stone bench, many of which were fixed at intervals under the trees of the boulevard. He said, "I think I had better explain to you the outlines of our labour system. Every man and woman in the country owes the State three years' work. The man may be employed in the army for the whole or part of the time; he may be used as an engineer or a farmer or as a labourer in the mines;—it depends upon his capabilities. Women may be called upon to serve as nurses, or temple attendants, or clerks or as labour in vineyards and all such things. The State pays a just wage for all labour and, when necessary, houses and feeds them.
"Forced Labour is a gang of such men as he whom you have just seen sentenced, and of those who prove to be lazy; they are compelled to work very hard and their board and lodging is no better than necessary to maintain them in good health; they are not treated softly; they are paid the same wage as free labour of the same grade but, of course, while serving their sentences they cannot spend it. Thus, the prosecutor in the case you have just heard will receive the accumulated wages of the defendant; also it is probable that the latter will soon divulge what money he has laid by and will be quite anxious to make a settlement with the prosecutor."
"You say that the State pays wages;" said Major Simonds. "Whence does the State get its money, or how are the people taxed?"
"There is a small head-tax,—the same for every man, woman and child over fourteen years of age: though, as a matter of fact, it is not at all necessary for the state funds but is maintained merely as a matter of principle. The State owns all the mines and certain factories which it alone was in a position to start: the profit from these is more than enough for its needs."
"Oh fortunate State;" murmured Simonds, "I now hate income-tax, rates and taxes worse than ever!"
"Yes," answered Xerres, "you western peoples are now suffering for what we consider to be lack of foresight in the past. In some ways our State is a communism, in others not at all; we encourage the accumulation of individual wealth as a prize for good work accomplished. But we never admitted that a few should profit enormously by mineral wealth which happened to be on the property of an individual; if he found it and reported it he was given a sum of money as a matter of grace and in return for the information; and he might receive a further sum if the mine were developed, as compensation for his property which was ruined for other purposes. But the state itself did, and continues, all the serious prospecting and owns and develops the resulting mines."
"Sounds fair to me;" said Erskine, "but then I don't own a mine at home."
Xerres smiled, "Yes," he replied, "that is how you must see things now; I fear that at this stage you peoples can never, with justice to all, attain to the system that we have here."
"I gather then," asked Terrant, "that you have rich mines of various minerals and so on?"
"We have everything we require;—gold, silver, copper, iron and coal, and oil in great quantities: I believe there are other more rare minerals as well, but so far we have not used them. These mountains," and he pointed sweepingly to the mountain barricade that surrounded Saria, "these mountains are so rich that we must maintain our borders inviolate; and the urge for wealth of the western nations forces us to take steps to keep intruders from even a near approach."
Later, of course, justice as applied in Saria provided much food for comment: Erskine started the ball rolling with the remark,—"What price those cases this morning? Short and sharp, I call them! Handled like a case of 'Drunk' in orderly room. I should think that in a complicated case the wrong man might easily get it in the neck!"
"Possibly," Terrant replied. "On the other hand, a guilty man does not get off by paying some cunning lawyer to—shall we say—colour the evidence or to find some ridiculous technical error in the charge. I should say it probably pans out about even with our system: the great difference is that here it takes far less time, costs the state less and the individual nothing."
"I expect Terrant is about right," said the major. "Another great advantage here must be the very few and simple laws;—no necessity to learn stacks of books, full of precedents and decisions, elucidating the bad drawing of them. One law seems to about cover the lot;—'Do unto others, etc.' What do they say about our legal contracts? That anyone can drive a coach and four through the strictest contract possible; I doubt there being any such possibility here. There seems to be no letter of the law but any amount of its spirit!"
"I don't expect that small boy will be so keen on knocking at doors, before he's finished," Erskine laughingly suggested; the others joined in the laugh; "I doubt it," Terrant agreed, and quoted "'Make the punishment fit the crime!' and in a quiet way the parent got a bit of a ticking off, too! I shouldn't be surprised,—if the boy gets up to more troublesome larks, the parents will find themselves up against it as well: serve 'em right!"
"That is to say," Simonds suggested, "the sins of the children shall be visited upon the fathers: not much fun being the father of a bad boy here. Good God! Fancy being Jerks' father!"
"I have always heard that I was a very nice child," said Erskine with a great display of mock modesty; "By the way, did you notice me bridling then? I always love it when people in a book 'Bridle,' and now I believe I've learnt how to do it! But talking of fathers, my old guv'nor always said, 'If the foal's a dud, look to the sire!' My sire was a very fine fellow!"
"Oh yes. I've heard what a nice child Jerks was," said Terrant, "He won a prize at school—" in the pause that followed Erskine "bridled" horribly, "for cheating—without being found out!"
Erskine drew himself up to his full height; "Major: I trust that you will not listen to these jealous innuendos," with superb hauteur he stalked to the door and, turning when safely out of range, added, "Terrant did not win a prize;—he was found out!"
After a few days Erskine's worries about Calyce were revived in such a formidable manner as to decide him that he must confide in Xerres without delay. One night after dinner he thought he would put in an hour or two of work on the language, so returned to his room rather earlier than usual. Entering it, he came to a sudden standstill and in muffled tones gasped "Calyce!"—for Calyce was comfortably ensconced on one of the couches. She appeared in no way perturbed, but was unconcernedly smoking one of his cigarettes; she smiled happily and beckoned him to a place beside her. His first surprise over, he had time to consider the situation—and Calyce: with regard to the former, he thought, "Deuced rash of the girl, but thank God I'm pure!"—and the degree of rashness became more apparent as he considered her:—surely the sight of her was more than young flesh and blood could stand with any vestige of equanimity,—dressed as she was in the mode adopted in Saria, a mode that revealed what it hid. Calyce was adorable, and presumably had not overlooked that fact when reclining in the position she had chosen amongst the cushions.
Erskine struggled for a moment and gave in;—he could not look on her with cold composure: two or three long strides took him to her side, and for the moment worries were non-existent. But they soon forced a re-entry into his mind; suddenly he sat up, gently releasing himself from the soft, clinging arms that encircled his neck: Calyce gazed at him questioningly and with a little surprise, but seeing his worried air, smiled and pouted. Erskine stooped and kissed her chastely on the brow, then sternly taking hold of himself, endeavoured to collect his thoughts sufficiently to discuss the matter with her—difficult enough, in any case, in a language of which only a few words are known.
And then Calyce made matters worse, for she too sat up and, taking his hand, pointed to his bed, whispering, "Yes,—let us go there!"—which simple, little sentence he could quite understand and appreciate!
He thought, "Now what is a poor fellow to do, poor thing? If I send her away she will feel hurt and perhaps offended; and I'd hate to hurt her, the little darling; and if I don't send her away there may be hell to pay, and the expedition may even be put on the blink. And how to explain to her without hurting her I can't imagine. Well, one more kiss and then we'll see what we can do."
Of course, that one more kiss was worse than rash, and it is to be feared that Erskine's good intentions went to pave the ways of a dream-city. That he was recalled to this world and its affairs was pure chance; absent-mindedly he had lit a cigarette and absent-mindedly retained it between his fingers, so that it was the smell of burning cloth and an alarmed cry from Calyce that quickened him.
The gauze about Calyce's shoulders was smouldering in a rapidly spreading patch; without a moment's hesitation she tore the flimsy stuff, and Erskine, rolling it between his hands, killed the glow.
And now Calyce was more irresistible than ever; excitement had coloured her cheeks and added a sparkle to the soft brightness of her eyes; and the destruction of the neck of her garment boldly made manifest the beauty of a white, rounded breast.
But Erskine, while revelling in her beauty and loving her passionately, suddenly and completely regained control of himself: taking her hand, he said in English, "We will talk to Xerres to-morrow." And she, fathoming his intention, answered, "Yes, Xerres." So, to his joy, Erskine had complied with the demands of his conscience without hurting Calyce; and she understood his restraint and loved him more deeply for it.
He led her to the door on to the veranda and, with one lingering kiss, she left him.
Erskine did not sleep well that night, and he was sincerely thankful when the light of another day appeared through the door and windows of his room.
When, earlier than usual, Xerres appeared crossing the garden in tow of Calyce, Erskine jumped up and went out to meet them. Terrant followed him with his eyes; then, raising his eyebrows, looked at Simonds significantly. "Something doing there," he announced. "During the last few days Jerks hasn't pulled my leg once, also he's been permanently afflicted with a moon-struck expression."
"Yes," Simonds agreed, "got it bad; smitten and captivated by Calyce—and I can't blame the lad: I think that Calyce is suffering from the same complaint; I can't blame her either, but it makes it more serious,—make no mistake, Calyce knows her own mind and knows what she wants. But they seem to be consulting Xerres, and that, at any rate, is sensible of them."
Xerres met Erskine with a friendly smile and, as Calyce had evidently been talking to him already, Erskine began to lose his feeling of naughty schoolboy;—and Calyce was beaming.
Xerres at once set him at his ease. "Calyce tells me that you two wish to set up house together; and I gather that you have been worried, probably as to how we would look on such an arrangement."
Erskine nodded in the affirmative and Xerres continued, "If I may say so, it is good of you to have practised the restraint that you did,—and we shall not forget it. As to you and Calyce, there is no objection at all. And it being to the point, I suggest that we join the others in your rooms and I will explain our marriage laws; they are simple enough."
As they entered the room Calyce clutched Erskine's hand,—she felt shy: and of course this, in addition to his errand, made Erskine turn crimson and feel, as he put it, all of a doodah: but the major and Terrant were most studious in their assumption of nonchalance and apparent ignorance of anything special being in the air, so that Xerres, catching the latter's eye, was hard put to it to suppress a laugh, and turned away suffering from a slight but hacking cough.
Erskine gibbered, but at last succeeded in penetrating the denseness that Simonds assumed, and conveyed the startling information that he and Calyce wished to get married.
"Now who would have thought that?" said the major. "I certainly congratulate you if Calyce wishes to marry you: but we don't intend to remain here for ever, so—"
But Xerres interrupted,—"We have no objection, major sahib: it is true about your departure, but Erskine sahib may return here, or Calyce may go with or join him in India; that matter will arrange itself."
"I certainly have no objection," Simonds replied, "and between us, Captain Terrant and I will see that everything is all right with his commanding officer." Then slowly, "Well, Calyce,—you will have to learn to speak English now!"
Calyce beamed; and then, absurdly serious, said: "I speak English very well. I say 'Good night, darling, have a cigarette?'"
Simonds laughed; but Terrant grumbled, "I think the least you might do, Jerks, is kiss the girl!"
"I'm shy!" Erskine answered, and locking one foot behind the other, wriggled and squirmed.
Xerres now asked, "Shall I, then, explain to you these social laws that we are concerned with now?"
Simonds nodded, and Erskine and Calyce made themselves comfortable on an unoccupied couch.
He continued: "As I have already told Erskine sahib, our marriage laws could not be simpler; the State requires regularity in these matters, but does not attempt to force two people to live together who cannot do so. All that is necessary is that the two interested parties shall state their wish at an office in the State Records' building and, having signed a declaration of marriage, all the formalities are completed.
"No youth under eighteen years of age or girl under sixteen can marry. Should the parents of either party object to a marriage they must state their grounds;—this seldom happens, but usually, if they do, it is on the grounds of health; if then permission to marry is refused, they must part—absolutely; failure to obey the order is a criminal offence.
"Divorce is almost equally simple: if both of them decide that they cannot live together, they can go to the office, make a declaration to that effect, and the marriage is annulled. If one party alone wishes for a divorce, he must state his reasons, to which the other party replies; a magistrate will hear and decide the case with due regard to the interests of the State as well as of the parties themselves. Infidelity may not be considered sufficient grounds for a dissolution,—but the guilty party is liable to punishment.
"Of course, the interests of the State lie in public morality and healthy children. Divorces are comparatively rare.
"Prostitution is unknown here; the profession would be a bankrupt one. Promiscuous intercourse does occur, but the marriage laws are so simple and reasonable that there is no object in it, and so it is not prevalent enough to be a menace to the State. And, as I have said, infidelity is a punishable offence.
"Children are a care of the State; it demands healthy children; it desires happy ones, and it does its best to develop their intelligence.
"Children belong to the State, and parents who bring them up are responsible to the State for their health and happiness. If for any reason the parents do not wish to bring up their children themselves, they need not do so; they can hand them over to the State and then the latter assumes all responsibility:—you must see one of our children's homes. I think it will interest you. And a child brought up by the State never has any feeling of either inferiority or superiority to those brought up by their parents.
"Should the parents be divorced, the mother may bring up the child; if she does not wish to do so, the father may; should neither desire it the State takes charge.
"If a child is born out of wedlock, the State takes charge of it and the parents are liable to punishment;—but this never happens,—why should it?
"Failure to care for a child properly is a punishable offence.
"In every case the State assumes authority when the child is eight years old,—when schooling commences. Parents are not expected to teach more than reading and writing;—we do not believe in much learning before that age; and further, until they are fourteen their hours of work are very light. By that age we generally know whether a child is of greater or lesser intelligence, and from then on it is specially taught what is deemed most suitable to its aptitude and capability. Children who are not overburdened with brains may be released from school when fourteen; they will then either return to their parents to assist them, or they may be apprenticed to some trade,—be it farming, or soldiering with the permanent force, or as mechanics, or as clerks. Children who show sufficient intelligence continue their studies until they choose, or a special aptitude is shown for, some particular profession: then, in due course, they are trained to that profession.
"I told you the other day that every person owes three years' service to the State: this law chiefly affects those children who return to their parents; such are called up to serve in the army, or to fill any other requirement, at about eighteen years of age: but those who go on to train as doctors or engineers or chemists or such-like will be serving the State for the whole of their career, for all such professions are paid by the State.
"That is a brief outline of how we arrange these things. Our policy is that everyone shall be occupied but not overworked; that there shall be no poverty, even if we have to force a man to work and not be poor; and that everyone shall be healthy and happy.
"And now, as a pleasant example;—Calyce, to be happy, wants Erskine sahib, and he is a willing victim; very well; the State says that Calyce shall have Erskine sahib—and joins them, with its blessing.
"I will now go and put in motion one of the little cog-wheels of the State machinery!"
"Major!" Terrant exclaimed, "I think I'm going to apply for naturalization as a citizen,—or is it subject?—of Saria; its government, as far as I can see, is a near approach to a benevolent autocracy: but I don't quite understand who or what governs the State."
"We will come to that another day," said Xerres, rising to his feet. "In the meanwhile I will arrange for these two anxious young people to complete the legal formalities to-morrow morning—if that be their wish."
Erskine assumed a manner of great coyness and even reluctance, while Calyce laughingly shook him, and then made a show of anger until Simonds answered for him: "As Erskine sahib is evidently unprepared to take the definite step, will you please arrange for me to take his place?"
But Calyce and Erskine had fled from the room.
Erskine found the afternoon dragging: the major and Terrant, busy at some form of work, did not interest him; Calyce was absent, attending to affairs of her own, and he himself was bored and could not settle down to anything.
For a time he wandered about the garden aimlessly, until he found himself outside the gates and gazing blankly at the unhurried conduct of the business of the town. Coming to himself, he thought he might fill in time by a search through the shops for some wedding present for Calyce, and this idea so filled him with enthusiasm that in a moment he was racing down the steps and careering off towards the shop of a goldsmith who he knew spoke Hindustani.
On his way he could not fail to notice that all the passers-by were paying particular, but friendly, attention to himself: he enjoyed their smiles and answered them with his usual broad grin, but at last the fact struck him that he was also the subject of interested discussion;—and that was embarrassing.
By the time he reached the shop he was crimson with shyness and thoroughly thankful for the dimness within when he greeted the proprietor. But his relief was not to endure for long; the shopkeeper came to him nodding and smiling, and completed his discomfiture by saying how pleased everyone was to hear of his approaching marriage to Calyce.
"Good heavens!" Erskine gasped. "Does everyone know that already?"
"Certainly," replied the other, "and we all hope that you will be so happy that you will remain here with us."
"I'm sure I would like to stay here—" and then he groaned, "So that's why everybody looked at me in the street: oh dear, oh dear, how on earth shall I ever get home?"
The shopkeeper, a genial old soul, laughed heartily but then offered to let him out through the back way into a lane that would lead him in comparative solitude to the temple. After arranging a purchase of a beautifully carved piece of jade, Erskine followed the suggested route home, almost slinking along like some desperate criminal, and thus regained the seclusion of the garden unnoticed.
So little sympathy did he gain from Simonds and Terrant by a recital of his woes that he retired peevishly to his own room and tried to settle down to work at his Greek studies, meanwhile complaining bitterly to himself: "A nice, cheery bachelor party for a poor, blinking and budding bridegroom, I call it!" And thus, with a happy feeling of personal injury, passed the afternoon and evening, with never a sight of Calyce: at last, in disgust, he finally retired to bed.
"WHERE'S that sweet child Jerks?" Simonds asked, with a smile. "I've never known him to be late when it's a question of food—for himself!"
"Probably thinking out something extraordinarily fruity in the way of a wedding garment," Terrant laughed in reply. "He'll be along in a minute, gibbering like a monkey and got up like a Christmas tree. On the other hand, Calyce doesn't seem to be around either, so perhaps they're out together admiring what they fondly take to be the moon."
They had been seated for some minutes at breakfast, and such an unusual occurrence as Erskine being late for a meal called for some notice.
But at this point Calyce entered and, glancing at the unoccupied place at the table, wished the major and Terrant good morning; then, with a slight frown, she asked where Erskine was, adding that he was not in his room.
"Not in his room!" Terrant repeated after her, and suggested doubtfully, "Perhaps he has gone into the town to buy something."
"Perhaps!" Calyce stood for a moment undecided; then, "I'll go and ask at the gate."
She was gone without waiting for any reply. "She seems a bit worried about something," Simonds remarked. "Probably Jerks is buying her a wedding present. He's a lucky young devil. And that reminds me,—we might go out after breakfast and see if we can pick up something for them down in the bazaar."
Very soon afterwards, however, Calyce came in like a whirlwind, followed by Xerres. "He hasn't gone out," she ejaculated. "There is something wrong; I woke up feeling it, and I know something terrible has happened to him!"
Simonds and Terrant jumped to their feet and looked inquiringly at Xerres. He slightly shrugged his shoulders. "Calyce tells me that Erskine sahib is not to be found anywhere: certainly if he had gone to the town he would have been seen, but I expect he is somewhere in the garden. As Calyce is anxious, let us search;—will you go to the left, she and I will go the other way, and let us meet at the bath!"
Without further parley they set out as Xerres had arranged and systematically searched every inch of their side of the garden: in due course they arrived at the bath and met Calyce and Xerres, who had completed their quest shortly before them. One glance was sufficient to assure them that the other two had met with no greater success than they had; and it was noticeable that Calyce was no longer alone in feeling anxiety, for Xerres was obviously considerably mystified.
As soon as he saw that Simonds and Terrant had no news to give he suggested: "Will you go back to your rooms; I suppose it is just possible that we may have missed him. I will search in the temple;—I cannot think that he is there, but I will look. Calyce, you go with the sahibs; if he is not there come back and meet me at the temple door."
Arrived back at their quarters, they examined every room, hoping that perhaps they might find a note or some such explanation for Erskine's absence: failing in this, they could no longer feel any doubt but that some mishap must have occurred, and Calyce's state of mind did nothing to reassure them—for by now she was pale with anxiety, tempered by an expression of grim determination.
"I think you had better stay here," she advised them. "I will go to Xerres, and we will have inquiries and search made throughout the town and country. If you find anything, please tell the officer of the guard at the gate."
"It begins to look serious," said Terrant; "what on earth can the fellow have done?"
"I don't like it at all," Simonds answered. "He certainly isn't anywhere here, and I very much doubt that he went out this morning: on the other hand, why should he go out during the night, and how could he manage it without being seen, unless there is some dirty work involved—and if so, why?"
"Exactly. And of all people, why Jerks?"
"Calyce!"
"Calyce? What do you mean?" Terrant asked indignantly.
"I don't know that I mean anything. But you asked 'Of all people, why Jerks?' so I continue,—in what way is Jerks different from us? To which the answer is that he is going to marry a young lady of the country and we are not! Then I ask myself, is jealousy about Calyce the cause?"
"Oh, I see what you mean." Terrant was clearly relieved. "For a moment I thought you meant that Calyce might have got something to do with it herself. Jealousy! I can well imagine hundreds of young men being jealous!"
"Yes;" Simonds murmured, "and old men too!"
"Good Lord! Have you got any ideas?"
"Oh no, nothing like that: I was only generalizing. After all we have nothing whatever to go on, even on the jealousy theory which may be quite wrong,—probably is. So all we can do is keep quiet and hope for the best. But I admit I don't like the looks of things!"
And the remainder of the day they spent by themselves, a weary and anxious time during which no news of any sort was forthcoming. Late that evening Xerres came to them and by his demeanour, if not by his words, impressed them more deeply than ever with the danger to which it was feared that Erskine was exposed.
He informed them that large numbers of men and women had combed the town and nearby districts but, except that Erskine had been seen during the previous afternoon in the street of shops, no trace of him could be found nor could any information concerning him be obtained. One significant fact, however, had emerged—during the night the sentry on duty at the gates had suddenly felt faint; he had gone into the guard-room and when, twenty or thirty seconds later, another sentry had taken over his post the outer gates were found ajar. Probably in this short period Erskine had passed through. It was a curious coincidence and, for reasons that he would not give now, one that he did not like.
He and Calyce had just come from the temple; they had informed Stesilea who would endeavour to find where Erskine was, but they must not expect to obtain any news until the following evening. Then, with emotion, he said he had been ordered to express to them Stesilea's, as well as his own, sorrow for what had happened and to tell them that every conceivable step would be taken to recover their friend uninjured.
Thereafter passed an anxious night and day. For Simonds and Terrant the situation was particularly trying as they themselves could in no way help, and all that remained for them was to pace their rooms and the garden restlessly, and to contain their souls in as much patience as possible.
* * * * * *
Erskine woke with a start and with such a feeling of danger that instinctively his hand passed under his pillow and felt for a pistol,—a useless procedure since they had all abandoned such precautions very soon after their arrival in Saria.
The room was intensely dark: with a feeling as if his hair was standing on end and with heart thumping violently Erskine raised himself gently on his elbows, facing the window which was faintly outlined by the dim light of a moonless but brilliantly starlit night.
Then, turning his head, he looked towards the door leading on to the veranda and for a moment was frozen motionless: a figure showed in the opening and, as he watched, was faintly illumined by some light from without. He could just see that the figure was Calyce and that she was holding her finger to her lips; then she beckoned to him silently to come to her.
For a moment the speculation flashed through his mind as to why he had awakened in fear; but without delay he scrambled out of bed and, donning a coat and slippers, felt his way to the door. As he approached her she turned and, again beckoning to him, moved off like a shadow into the garden: softly he whispered "Where are you going? What is the matter?" but her only reply was to put her finger to her lips, with a smile that he could just see, and then to continue on her way. Thus he followed her in silence to the outer gates.
By the gentle lantern light in the archway he was surprised to see that the gate was ajar and that there was no sentry at his post: but he was given no time for conjecture for the slight, black-clad figure before him hastened past the guard-rooms and with another smile and beckoning gesture disappeared through the narrow opening between the doors.
Passing through in his turn, he saw that she was following the outer wall, so he set himself to keep pace with her as best he could in his loose-fitting slippers. And thus they continued—her black figure just discernible in the slightly lighter blackness—past the temple enclosure, through the outskirts of the town and into the country.
Now he found time to think and to wonder;—where were they going and why in this continued silence and without explanation? Why was there no sentry in the archway? What was there in Calyce's smile that did not seem quite natural but which, on the contrary, gave him a feeling of discomfort—almost of dislike? Why had he awakened with a feeling of fear as if at some inimical presence? But his thoughts led to no answer and now took a turn, for he could no longer recognize the district he was so hurriedly and uncomfortably traversing. In doubt and increasing alarm he called out "Calyce! What is it? Where are you going?"
She made no reply but only slowed her pace so that he was able to catch her up: turning to him she put her finger to her lips and smiled that smile that he did not like, that was not Calyce, that was definitely evil; and then hurried on before him.
Erskine was amazed at her silence and filled with doubt;—could this be Calyce, his Calyce, or was some trick being played upon him; and yet how could it be any other than Calyce, surely his eyes could not betray him,—in the archway of the temple enclosure he had seen her clearly? His steps faltered in doubt, but even as his mind considered the expediency of turning and retracing his way to the town the figure before him stopped and turned and beckoned to him urgently.
And so he followed on.
And soon he saw rising, dark, before him the outline of a hill; and in the deepening gloom he followed close, shouting "Stop, Calyce! Where are you going?"
But still the figure, now but a bare two feet in front of him, sped on,—and always just out of his reach.
And the darkness thickened; and by the damp coldness of the air he knew that he had entered some cave. Soon he lost sight of Calyce and halted; and turning he sought the entrance through which he had passed. But no glimmer of light could he perceive and, turn as he would, in every direction dense blackness enveloped him as a blanket.
Then he saw a faint haze of light, and this gradually strengthened until it shone like a phosphorescent glow that surrounded and seemed to emanate from the figure he had followed.
Wondering if he was dreaming or gone mad, he watched this weird light gaining strength until Calyce appeared as if a beam of limelight were centred upon her. She smiled, and now and in this light there was no mistaking the wickedness of her smile; Erskine gazed in growing horror and, as if bewitched, followed her when again she beckoned to him and went on her way.
For some minutes they advanced through the thick darkness until suddenly this Calyce turned and, with outstretched arms and gleaming eyes, invited Erskine to her embrace.
He halted amazed, bewildered and horrified, for in her eyes lurked an expression such as he had seen but seldom, even in the eyes of women willing and anxious to sell themselves at a price; and on her lips wreathed the smile that revolted him,—for the lips, the eyes, the body were those of Calyce, but not of the Calyce that he knew and loved. In horror his knees weakened beneath him and he sank to the ground.
Now he learnt that certainly some trickery had involved him—for what followed was as a nightmare, revolting him by the likeness of the figure to Calyce but, at the same time, a relief to his overwrought brain through his certain knowledge that the figure was not Calyce.
For the being commenced to dance before him; dancing such portrayals as he had heard could be seen in the lowest native quarters of Port Said; writhing and twisting before him the form, human or spiritual he knew not which, tore off its scanty garments and performed the motions of the most lascivious danse du ventre. And thus he was torn between two thoughts—disgust at such a blatant exhibition and admiration for the undoubted and supreme beauty of the body flaunted so extravagantly before him.
For a moment he closed his eyes, half wondering if he could awake to find himself the victim of some ghastly dream and still in his bed: but on re-opening them he felt sure he must be mad, for now there were ten, fifteen, twenty of these figures, all glowing with the strange light, all similar to the first and like to his Calyce, all perfect in beauty and shameless in their naked posturings.
And, even as he gazed, a shrill, wild laugh burst upon his ears and echoed and re-echoed around him;—and he was alone in pitch darkness.
For a time—how long he could never say—he remained inert, numbed in mind and body: then gradually life returned to him; step by step he recalled the ghastly details since the moment when he started up, in fear, from his sleep and ending with the horrible, mocking laughter. And now, where was he? He staggered to his feet and, with hands outstretched before him, took a few halting steps forward: but suddenly he felt that he must not move; almost it seemed that hands withheld him, that a voice begged him not to move, and once again he sank to the ground.
And then passed an interminable period of utter darkness; once or twice, at long intervals and in increasing impatience, he started to his feet, and once he commenced to crawl on hands and knees but always the thought, almost a command, that he must not move deterred him.
Gradually he sank into a state of lethargy, penetrated only by feelings of thirst and despair, and at last this gave way to complete unconsciousness.
* * * * * *
Their miserable day slowly drew to its close and with the drawing in of dusk Simonds and Terrant impatiently awaited some hoped for and half promised news from Xerres.
Calyce came to them first; Calyce barely recognisable as the girl they had last seen some thirty-six hours before; pale, haggard, distressed—and with a sombre hatred, as of a wounded tiger, burning in her eyes.
"Someone has done this," she exclaimed, "this is no accident; and some day I shall find whose work it is!—No, we have no news; it is as if the very earth had opened and swallowed him. But he is not dead—I know it! I awoke yesterday feeling that he was in peril; and since then there have been times when I have almost suffocated with his danger. But he still lives, and Stesilea will show us the way to him and how to save him!"
Simonds approached her and placed his arm round her shoulders and, whilst he said no word, he surely gave her comfort, for she leant back and closed her eyes and for a full minute rested.
Then Xerres silently entered the room: he too looked worn, nearly overcome with fatigue. Calyce gave him one inquiring look which he answered with a shake of his head; then—"Come, all of you,—now;" he said, "I think Stesilea will give us instructions and I think it will be better if we are all present and ready to act. Major sahib, will you and the Captain sahib bring your lanterns,—no, do not light them now—and, perhaps yes, your revolvers."
Soon they were ready and hastening over to the temple: Xerres pushed open the door and they followed him into almost complete darkness, relieved only by the dim flickering glow of the hanging lamps. Guided by Xerres and Calyce, they made their way to the far end of the great hall and thence through the curtains into the sanctuary. Here too was but a faint light, sufficient, however, to see each other and that Stesilea was seated statue-like in her throne, and behind her the two priestesses.
As soon as they were grouped before her, Stesilea opened her eyes and bowed recognition and approval to them. Then she spoke, "It is no use; I cannot find him, but he is not dead!"
Calyce sighed and, clinging to Major Simonds, whispered, "Oh Stesilea,—help us." And notwithstanding that Simonds himself could hardly hear her, Stesilea immediately answered, "Yes Calyce, I think I can still help, but I also think that you must be the instrument. You have brought lanterns, Xerres? Yes, good; I still feel sure that it is dark. He is hidden, but I cannot say where; I cannot follow him, I cannot find him; there is a barrier between him and me; someone who has knowledge has hidden him and has surrounded him with a covering that I—and I think, I, in particular—cannot penetrate. But I think that you, Calyce, you with your love for him can find him, if you will."
Firmly Calyce answered, "Stesilea, you know that I will follow him through the gates of hell, if you will give me the power."
Stesilea nodded; then "Light your lanterns; and be ready to follow Calyce. Xerres, you must follow Calyce closely and hold her hand; never release it; I fear, I expect, danger—you know what I mean. Calyce will warn you when you approach it; then halt and call on me. You understand?"
Xerres bowed and replied, "Yes Stesilea, I understand what you mean."
She then continued, "And you, Simonds and Terrant; follow Xerres closely with your lanterns; there may be other dangers, dangers of the flesh which earthly lights may illumine; if Xerres halts, halt yourselves, remaining close; if Calyce warns of danger place a hand on Xerres, each of you. You understand?"
"Yes Stesilea," they answered with one voice.
Stesilea ordered, "Now Calyce, stand before me. Yes, thus. Now look me in the eye. Xerres, hold her hand."
And a thick silence fell over the sanctuary. The lanterns having been lit and adding their stronger light made a scene that would remain in the memories of Simonds and Terrant for all time:—Stesilea, sublime in her beauty and calm, sitting in her throne and gazing fixedly at the slight, and now somewhat pitiful, figure of Calyce standing before her. On each side of and behind Stesilea the two priestesses. Behind Calyce stood Xerres holding her hand and, with bowed head, staring at it. And behind him, Simonds and Terrant, each carrying a lighted lantern and scarce breathing with the expectation and awe that oppressed them.
And on the white walls of the sanctuary giant shadows weaving and swaying with the flickering of the lights.
Thus they remained in dead silence for full five minutes; then spake Stesilea, "Calyce, go find your mate. Can you see him?"
"Yes, I see him."
"Can you go to him in the flesh?"
"Yes, I can go to him."
"Is it far?"
"No." And after a moment, "About half an hour."
"Calyce, if you come to danger, stop and warn Xerres and remain until the danger is gone. Now go, and take strength from me."
Calyce turned, staring blankly as a sleep-walker. And that strange procession left the sanctuary and the temple;—Calyce walking stiffly and followed closely by Xerres who held her hand in his; and behind him two men carrying lighted lanterns,—Simonds and Terrant.
Without haste and yet quickly they left the town, following a narrow track; this soon came to an end and they struck out across open country. Suddenly Xerres stiffened and they heard him whispering, "Stesilea, I know—it must be the old Cave of the Rebels."
Thence they continued for about fifteen minutes, always briskly but unhurried; then they wound between trees and bushes, through a wood which became thicker as they advanced; coming to a small open space, they could just discern a low hill before them and suddenly turning sharply behind a solitary rock, they passed through a small opening into the side of the hill itself.
They followed a narrow, tortuous passage, the lights shining on the dampness of the walls and, here and there, on stalactites hanging from the low roof. Sometimes they passed passages branching off on either side.
They nearly collided with Xerres for, without warning, he and Calyce had suddenly halted: and they heard a harsh whisper from her, "Danger!"
Knowing not what to fear, they each quickly placed a hand on Xerres' shoulder, as Stesilea had ordered them, and at this moment he murmured, "Stesilea. Help!"
And beneath their hands his body stiffened and tensed.
Like a group of statuary depicting expectation of attack,—leaning forward, straining eyes and ears; so stood they, silent and rigid.
It seemed that a whisper as of a bird's wings came from behind them and passed overhead, but before their ears had translated it, it was gone.
Then suddenly, with a roar, a cloud of flame and smoke passed over and disappeared behind them. And in the moment of its passing their skin dried and crinkled and the smell of burning hair enveloped them. Still they remained without movement and soon came a shrill whistling which too passed from in front, over them and away towards the mouth of the cave. And, as it passed, a momentary chill,—so keen as almost to burn,—held them in its icy fingers.
Then, without any hesitation, Calyce moved forward and, overawed and without understanding, they again closely followed Xerres.
The passage abruptly ended, passing through a very narrow opening into a cave whose limits they could not see. And within, a few yards before them, lay a white object which their lights soon revealed to them, was Erskine.
For a moment it seemed that they saw Stesilea bending over him but, even as they thought they saw her, she was not.
Coming to him, they found him pale and still as death. Calyce, in her trance and staring expressionlessly, knelt by him and passed her hand over his brow, then rose and stood inert: they gathered round him and even as they did so he opened his eyes and, recognizing them, smiled.
Xerres produced a small flask which he put to Erskine's lips, and in a moment a flush spread over his face; then, at first hesitatingly but with increasing strength, he rose to his feet; for a moment he swayed and held on to Simonds for support, but soon releasing him he stood upright amongst them. "Thanks, I can manage now. What a life!" he said with a grin.
They were ready now to leave this nightmare of a place but Xerres took Terrant's lantern from him, saying, "One moment: I want to see something," and swinging the light beyond them, they all gasped with horror;—for they could see that Erskine had been lying and that they were all standing on a small table of rock, not more than twenty feet in diameter, which was connected to the entrance from the passage by a narrow causeway; and outside this promontory was blackness.
"I cannot tell you how deep is the gulf surrounding this small plateau. But it is as well that Erskine sahib did not move!"
"I did move a few times," Erskine exclaimed, "but thank God something always stopped me!"
"Calyce said that several times she felt that Erskine was in terrible danger!" Xerres murmured.
"That is true," Simonds agreed, "I remember it. I think that Erskine will have many things for which to thank Calyce. Jerks, do you think you are strong enough to walk? I should say that the sooner we get home the better for all of us, especially for Calyce. I suppose we can find the way?"
"We would never find the way out by ourselves, but Calyce will lead us: I will help Erskine sahib;—as you say, we must get Calyce back to Stesilea without any loss of time." Then turning to Calyce who meanwhile had been standing passive, Xerres commanded, "Calyce, lead us back to Stesilea."
She immediately moved across the causeway followed by Xerres holding Erskine by the arm and then the other two—who now walked most circumspectly in the centre of the way.
Calyce led them without hesitation or faltering past passages leading off to one side or the other, all of which looked equally as much the direct route as that which they followed: and Simonds was in full agreement with Terrant when he muttered, "My God, what a ghastly place! I wonder where all those other passages go to."
Xerres answered him over his shoulder, "No one knows the plan of this maze except Stesilea. But we do know that there is only one way out to the exit and that all the others lead to the abyss."
Erskine was not the only one to shudder at this piece of information and he had the sympathy of the others when he grimly remarked, "I would dearly like to know who planned this party for me!"; in fact Xerres pressed his arm in agreement and muttered between his teeth, "We shall know some day, and then—!"
Very soon they came out into the open air and thence rapidly made their way back to the town and temple. And so once again, and now accompanied by Erskine, they found themselves standing before Stesilea. She smiled a welcome to them and calling Erskine to her, placed her hand on his forehead and over his eyes, "Poor boy," she sighed, and her voice was gentle and soothing as a happy dream, "you shall sleep well to-night and to-morrow all this shall be passed." Then she gazed at Calyce and her eyes too were tender; soon she commanded, "Come back, Calyce," and into the soulless eyes life came back. Calyce trembled and looked around her; and seeing Erskine she gave a little cry and staggered into the awaiting support of his arms.
Stesilea rose to her feet and, descending the steps, stroked Calyce's forehead and eyes, saying, "Well done! Your soul is strong and steadfast, and you shall find recompense. Take her, Xerres; danger such as she has faced, her soul knowing it, is utterly exhausting and she too needs rest. To-morrow Erskine shall tell you all his story,—I already know it. Retribution shall fall on the guilty one. I suspect, but as yet I do not know him, for he covered his hand well. Now go and sleep."
And so they silently went their ways; weary but happy that all was well. Sleep renewed their strength, so that even Calyce and Erskine were as if no terrors or dangers had crossed their paths.
During the morning, being joined by Calyce and Xerres, Erskine told his story to them all. While Xerres was grave and angry with the perpetrator, whoever he might be, Calyce trembled with fury that her likeness should have been used to lead Erskine into danger, and still more so for having disgusted him through that same likeness.
Xerres then told them that the Cave of the Rebels had been found and used centuries ago by a sect of priests who had endeavoured to usurp Stesilea's power, and who had been obliterated by her. And he said that Stesilea had now ordered that the entrance and passage way for several yards towards the cave should be blown up; preparations for this were under way and that very evening the cave would no longer be accessible to anyone.
Simonds inquired, "But has it not been dangerous to leave it open all these years; might not children or even grown-ups have entered it and been lost?"
Xerres replied in the negative, "No;—the entrance was loosely blocked with stones: but the chief deterrent has been that men, women and children knew of and feared the place as an abode of evil spirits which could work incalculable harm if interfered with, and nothing would induce anyone here to go near the place."
"Evil spirits;" mused Terrant, "by the way, did anyone else notice, while we were halted last night in the passage, heat and flame and icy cold; or was it entirely my imagination?"
"Notice it! I should think I did!" Simonds agreed, "And what is more, I found this morning that some of the hair on my head is singed!"
Xerres nodded gravely; "There are strange things in this world of ours that can be controlled by those who know. You westerners know nothing of these things and will not believe them when told, and perhaps not even when you see or feel them; but I now tell you that just such things were placed there to guard Erskine from rescue." Erskine here interjected, "The dirty dog!", which drew a smile from them all.
Xerres then continued, "Stesilea foresaw the possibility of such elemental guardians; she therefore made Calyce's soul sensitive to their presence and gave her spiritual defence against attack; being connected to her by touch, we too could not be harmed except by prolonged attack. Stesilea also instructed Calyce and myself to call upon her for help; this call enabled her to penetrate the barrier which had been set there to prevent her finding Erskine sahib; and having got through it, she could overcome the guardians. Of course I do not expect you to understand and perhaps you will not even believe all this; but—the major sahib's hair was singed!"
"I no longer dare disbelieve anything!" Simonds almost groaned.
"Nor do I;" Terrant agreed, "and what is more, I no longer want to!"
"I can't;" said Erskine in his turn, "I've seen enough to make me believe I'm my own grandmother,—if Xerres tells me so. And Xerres,—please may I go and get married now? Calyce,—will you, can we, now?"
"Yes," said Xerres, "let us go—now!"
THEY were A cheerful party when they arrived at the State Records building and, following the vestibule through to the back, entered an office; this was a smallish room and as simply furnished as the other government offices that they had seen.
A young man and a girl and an older woman were standing before the table that occupied the centre of the room;—evidently Calyce and Erskine were not the only young people contracting for a joint establishment that day.
Xerres spoke a few words to a clerk who nodded and left the room. Meanwhile they watched the procedure followed by the couple in front of them: these signed a document which the older woman and the official at the desk countersigned; the latter then made certain entries in what were evidently the Personal Records of the newly-married, and the ceremony being thus completed, the trio departed.
Xerres then explained that in the marriage they had been watching the woman was the mother of the young man and she had signified her consent; the girl having been brought up by the State—as had Calyce—the official had signed for the assent of the government in addition to his capacity as Recorder.
In a few minutes the clerk returned and placed a couple of small files before the official who then addressed Xerres; the latter approached the table, and beckoning to Erskine, asked to be given his full name; Erskine having answered "James Beresford Erskine", Xerres commenced to enter the names in Greek on a document; "Beresford" evidently caused him some difficulty but after a little thought he seemingly overcame it to his satisfaction; he then wrote Calyce's name and pointed to where they should each sign. This done, he himself signed on behalf of the State for Calyce,—a fact that clearly delighted her,—and then asked Major Simonds if he would sign in loco parentis for Erskine. "Certainly," said Simonds, "I'll be delighted to give him away!"—and lastly the Recorder wrote his signature at the bottom.
"Now", said Xerres, "you are a respectably married couple of Saria. Erskine sahib, will you please help me here," and he drew towards him one of the files.
"This is your Personal Record which I can now fill in rather more completely."
"By Jove!" Erskine exclaimed, "do I have a Personal Record? This is where I score over you two," giving a most superior look in Simonds' and Terrant's direction.
"You all have Personal Records here;" said Xerres drily, "though they are certainly by no means complete."
"And for your sake, Jerks, I hope that your's never will be," Terrant murmured equally drily. Xerres positively sniggered but completed the entry of his given names on Erskine's record: he then said, "Would you please give me your father's name, his place of residence and if he is still alive," to which Erskine answered, "Henry Beresford Erskine;—Leicester;—died 1899."
"If you like, I will read to you the rest of your record,—as we have it," Xerres suggested, and he smiled rather knowingly.
"James Beresford Erskine; Lieutenant in the Indian Army, (Cavalry), of His Majesty the King of Great Britain and Ireland, Emperor of India.
"Educated at Winchester.
"Passed lower and higher standards of Hindustani and Pushtu;
"Musketry; Signalling.
"On regimental polo team."
"There, that's all we had against you,—up to to-day!"
"But, good heavens!" Erskine ejaculated, while Simonds and Terrant showed the greatest surprise; "How on earth have you all those details?"
"Oh, we have our peaceful agents about the world:" Xerres answered, not without a slight smile of satisfaction; "and when the composition of your expedition was decided upon, any details that might interest us were sent on: we received those details some weeks before you arrived."
"Dear, dear;" said Major Simonds mildly, "you may keep yourselves cut off from the world, but you certainly succeed in knowing what is going on there!"
"We have to;" said Xerres, "life is far too dangerous these days for us to ignore the outside world, much though we might like to. As we cannot ignore it we must have prompt and accurate information.
"We have finished here now;—and perhaps that is enough for this morning. By the way;—behind your men's barrack building there are some stables; we have filled these with some ponies which we hope you will find satisfactory. Later we shall be riding into the country and in the meanwhile perhaps you would like to play some polo,—we have some pretty useful teams; a tournament might be good fun; Hernam Singh can be your fourth."
"Splendid!" Terrant exclaimed, "I'm beginning to feel badly in need of exercise. We certainly never hoped for polo at the end of our journey. Jerks, you're getting soft already; you'll have to take down some of that fat. Xerres, will you tell Calyce not to let her rotten husband get fat and more horrible than he is already!"
Xerres quickly interpreted and Calyce, laughingly serious, eyed Erskine and answered "If he gets fat I'll divorce him; but I'll see that he doesn't!" And Xerres added, "I must tell you that Calyce is a really good horsewoman and horsemaster herself; she schooled one of the ponies that are in your stables now."
They all looked at her with pleased respect and Erskine burbled, "Some wife!"
"Yes, a damned sight too good for you," Terrant retorted, but smiling gently meanwhile at him and Calyce.
It had been agreed that on the morrow they would do no sight-seeing but that they should take a day off and assimilate all that they had already seen and heard.
Erskine, however, was early astir: donning some light cotton shorts, he contemplated a bathe.
He explained his project to Calyce who quite understood and approved of the idea, but could not fathom where he was going to achieve it. He at last conveyed to her that he was going to the nearby swimming-bath and Calyce sat up horror-struck: excitedly she made clear that the use of that delectable spot was absolutely tabu and it took Erskine many minutes of gesticulations, splutterings and the use of such Greek as he knew, to convince her that Xerres had obtained for them the necessary permission.
Having got this clear, Calyce was full of approval and firm in her intention to share the privilege: of course nothing could please Erskine more, so, demanding silence, he listened for any sounds of life and movement in the adjoining rooms.
There being every reason to think that the major and Terrant were still asleep as no sound reached him, Erskine, collecting his towel, beckoned to Calyce to follow him and ambled from the room with an exaggerated action of stealth.
It was a perfect morning; the sun, just risen, was painting the tree-tops with golden haze, while the sky overhead still retained some of the lingering depths of the blue of dawn: the chill that lingered in the air stirred Erskine to brisk activity and, with his arm round Calyce's waist, he danced her, laughing and breathless, along the grassy pathway across the garden.
Coming to the hedge-enclosed and meandering alley that led to the bath itself he released her, saying "Race you", and broke into a sprint. Somewhat to his surprise, when he arrived at the water's edge, he found that he had not outstripped her but that on the contrary she was close behind him, and except for a heightened but most becoming colour in her cheeks, showed no signs of their erratic gait.
In one motion he cast aside the towel from his shoulders and plunged into the crystal-like water. He had expected that Calyce would follow him in her nebulous garments, which were not sufficiently hampering to interfere with her swimming, but when, after a few moments, no further splash followed the disturbance that he had himself created he turned on to his back to see what had become of her.
He was just in time to catch a glimpse of a curving, white flash as her exquisite little body cut into the water behind him; and on the bank there lay an inconsiderable heap of black, silky trifles.
"Golly!" Erskine exclaimed, and thought, "She certainly don't seem to be ashamed of the body the good God blessed her with, bless her," but at this moment a laughing face framed in a black aureole of hair that floated around it broke water alongside him. For a minute or two they swam and splashed until, although the blood raced through their limbs, the chill of the water began to pierce: and suddenly a loud and joyous whistling was heard unmistakably approaching.
Erskine was horrified and—"It's Terrant!" he cried. "What the devil do we do now?"
Notwithstanding the cold he felt himself reddening from forehead to toes as he cogitated whether to shout to Terrant to keep away. But Calyce was in no doubt:—clearly there was not time to make the shore and, wet as she was, to struggle into her clothes: with a few powerful strokes she swam to the end of the bath and clambered up on to the sculpture that dominated it. She found room to stand on the shell beside the Aphrodite and slightly behind it, and there she held her pose.
Erskine lay in the water goggle-eyed and speechless;—speechless from embarrassment and perplexity as to how to act; and goggle-eyed—for Calyce was surely a very worthy companion to the superb Aphrodite, and now seemed to be carved out of the same marble.
Whistling stridently, Terrant strode into the bower; Erskine, still red as a turkey-cock and floating nearly upright, watched him, his lower jaw gaping open.
Terrant fixed his eye on him with an expression of intense disgust and, with a low moan, Erskine sank beneath the surface; but he quickly returned, spluttering and coughing.
Terrant's expression deepened to one almost of nausea, and he called out, "Drinking your bath-water, I see; and as if that wasn't enough, coughing it up again! Really, Jerks, why they didn't drown you at birth I can't imagine." And springing into the bath, he caught hold of Erskine's foot and pulled him under. A struggle and much splashing ensued, but by this time Erskine had swallowed so much that he quickly broke off and, croaking "Pax! I will be good; you great over-fed bully!" he rolled over and rested on his back.
Naturally his eye was irresistibly attracted back to Calyce; to his horror she was quivering with suppressed laughter, and it was but slowly that she regained her calm: furtively he glanced at Terrant,—and froze. Like himself, Terrant was floating on his back, staring perplexedly at the statuary, a deep frown creasing his forehead.
At last—"Holy smoke!" he ejaculated and, hand over hand, he swam frenziedly to shore. Clambering up, he met forthwith the insignificant,—and yet very significant,—little heap of drapery; avoiding this as if it were some poisonous viper, he stalked with downcast eyes to the alley-way and there, turning to Erskine, hissed through clenched teeth, "You damned young fool, Jerks! Why the devil didn't you shout and warn me?"; and before Erskine could do more than gurgle he was gone.
By now Erskine was beginning to shiver with cold, so he made all speed to the edge and, struggling out, sat dabbling his toes in the water: and Calyce, having assured herself that the coast was clear, laughed merrily and, diving in, swam across and sat herself beside him. But Erskine, feeling thoroughly embarrassed, was busily scratching his head, and could not bring himself to join in her merriment which, for lack of support, gave place to solemnity. And in a quaint mixture of Greek and English she asked him: "Do you think it very wrong of me to take off my clothes?"
"I think it very nice," he replied whole-heartedly, "but I was surprised, as we don't do it much."
Calyce continued—"Xerres told me that you people are very funny, and I saw that you were shy; but Xerres will explain. Now you are very cold, we must go." And quickly wiping herself over with his towel, she enrobed herself, and they scampered back to their room.
Erskine, being clothed and partially in his right mind, suggested breakfast, but Calyce insisted, upon fetching Xerres at once. He entered the living-room rather shamefacedly to find the major and Terrant already blunting the pangs of hunger. Terrant, very red in the face, immediately apologized, "I say, Jerks; I'm awfully sorry, you know. But why the deuce didn't you sing out?"
Erskine was equally contrite;—"Sorry, old man: but, as a matter of fact, I was all of a doodah! First, I never dreamt that Calyce was going to pop in in her birthday suit; then I heard you coming and I was shaken to the core; and then I was busy watching what she was doing about it. And then, of course, it was too late and I was all nohow, and I sank and swallowed half the water in the bath."
"Well, I'm devilish sorry," Terrant reiterated; "What's happened to Calyce; is she too shy to come to breakfast,—poor little girl?"
"Too shy, my aunt!" Erskine repudiated the idea forcibly;—"Not a bit of it! On the contrary! I think she looks upon us with a degree of contempt or 'despisery' for feeling all hot and bothered about the business. She has now beetled off to fetch Xerres to explain things to us!"
Simonds, who had been listening attentively but had not deemed it necessary to discontinue his breakfast, now joined in the conversation: "I think we shall find that these people are completely lacking in the prudery from which we suffer; thanks to our upbringing we can't help—": but at this moment a serious Calyce entered the room, followed by an obviously amused Xerres.
The latter, after cheerfully wishing "Good morning", said: "Calyce is very upset, for fear you may think that she has done wrong. To tell the truth, she does not quite understand how. I warned her vaguely that Europeans and we were not brought up in the same way. Here we teach our children to be natural; we do not permit them to be ashamed of their bodies, but rather to take a pride in and a care for the beauty that the gods may have bestowed upon them: and we have held this view since the very old days, before even we left Greece. As I say, our girls are taught to take every pride in their beauty, and to care for it by maintaining their health and by physical exercise. If, by accident or unwittingly they are seen undraped there is no cause for confusion or shame either to them or to the spectator; but a girl will naturally guard herself as far as possible for the joy of her husband."
The major rose to his feet and went over to Calyce; first patting her on the back and then kissing her forehead, he exclaimed, "That's just what I thought; please tell Calyce that of course we're wrong, but it's the way we've been brought up!" and this salutation, in addition to the few words in which Xerres told her that everything was fully understood, put her once again at her ease, and she became the smiling, happy Calyce that they were all by now dearly fond of.
Before leaving, Xerres asked if they intended doing anything in particular that afternoon; Terrant suggested that they might go down to see the ponies and perhaps try them out, a proposal that seemed to please everybody, and Xerres continued by saying: "That will fit perfectly. As a matter of fact a parade has been ordered for this evening, and we thought that perhaps you might care to see it and inspect some of our troops." So they spent the morning with their Greek professor, and during the early afternoon, from the silence that reigned, it seemed certain that all were engaged in the peaceful occupation of a siesta.
As soon as the strength of the sun had eased off a bit they made their way down to the maidan, accompanied by Calyce, who was bursting with anxiety to show off the pony that she had schooled.
Hernam Singh met them as they approached, very pleased with himself and things in general: "Sahib," he exclaimed, "all the ponies are out ready for you to see and try; there are three for me and there are twelve for you and the other sahibs; also there is one for the memsahib Calyce,—a very nice bay, standing about 14.1; also the saddlery is very good."
"And, sahib, at the parade this evening I am going to command a squadron;—it is a fortunate thing that I brought my own sword!"
"Splendid, Hernam Singh!" the major answered. "Let us see these ponies; have you tried any of them?"
"During exercise this morning I had them all in a manège', they are well schooled; I did ride them all for a minute or two: the memsahib's pony jumps very well!"
Erskine translated this to Calyce, who created great joy by the serious air she assumed in telling them "Yes; in Saria we breed good horses and know how to train them: also we can ride,—as you shall see."
And that afternoon they did see and thoroughly agreed with Calyce's opinion;—for they found their ponies very handy and light in the mouth, and, from their shape, evidently bred from good European stock: and Calyce, who somewhere scrambled into a shirt and jodhpurs, showed herself a beautiful little horsewoman.
Then there was the parade which proved an eye-opener. A full division of all arms, including such auxiliaries as signal corps and transport, streamed on to the maidan from all sides. Time did not permit of extensive inspection or drill, but the general appearance was that of a smart, highly trained and efficient force; at a later date they were to confirm this first impression by elaborate inspections, manoeuvres and operations in the field.
And, much to Hernam Singh's joy, the regiment to which he was attached, together with three others, carried out brigade manoeuvres and finished up with a gallop past.
Major Simonds expressed the opinion of all when he informed Xerres that it had been a most successful afternoon and evening, and that the parade had been an unqualified credit to Saria.
On the way home Calyce showed signs of having some other matter of moment up her sleeve; she crept under Erskine's arm and, full of impatience, began to urge him on. When, in the lane, they reached the empty bungalow that they had noticed the former evening, she drew him into the garden, through the doorway into the house, and thus to the enclosed court. Excitedly she led him from room to room, all of which were simply but attractively furnished, and, finally coming to a halt, declared: "We may have this house!"
Erskine replied enthusiastically, "Devilish nice! Awfully nice!" but then he began to think, and sadly shook his head;—"Yes, very nice,—but I'm afraid we can't use it."
Calyce was first surprised and hurt and then even a little peevish. "Why not?" she exclaimed. "I want to live in my own house; and you don't want to!"
And Erskine haltingly explained how, as she already knew, they could not now stay in Saria for very much longer, and that he had been sent to Saria on duty—to work with the major; and he must stay with the others so that they could find him at any time and that he might be handy to do whatever he was told.
Calyce understood and, though still pouting, had evidently forgotten her anger—if not her disappointment. Suddenly Erskine stooped, kissed her resoundingly and, lifting her, placed her on the top of a sort of wardrobe that stood in the room: he stepped back and jeered, "Now, where are you? You can't get down without tearing your clothes. Whenever you are angry or naughty I'll put you up somewhere where you have got to stay." And he made a face at her.
Calyce giggled and wriggled; and became proud; and became wheedling until Erskine, coming close to the wardrobe, received her into his arms as she slid down; and somehow it was a long time before either of them recognized the fact that she was safely restored to terra firma.
After supper that night the major was in an expansive mood:—he turned to Terrant and said: "I don't know if you realize the fact that we have contrived to get Jerks safely and most successfully married; and that we have neither celebrated our release from responsibility nor have we drunk to the health, happiness or good luck of the unfortunate bride. Jerks; interpret that speech faithfully and fully to Calyce while I dig out one of our bottles of whisky; this is an occasion!"
Erskine did interpret faithfully, and Calyce answered, "Let me taste a little of your whisky; I have heard of it and that it is very strong. But I am not an unfortunate bride,—I like my funny Jerks, and if he doesn't get fat I will be very good to him."
All of them understood this, and Terrant mournfully poked Erskine in the ribs and, shaking his head, adjured him, "For heaven's sake, old fellow, do be careful; we don't want you back on our hands, you know!"
Calyce tried a little whisky, and positively hated it; but she seemed to enjoy watching the others absorbing the wine of Scotland, and here and there interjected remarks when she understood the conversation—which was becoming noticeably frequent. Soon she and Erskine departed upon their own affairs, leaving Simonds and Terrant discussing the Sarian forces.
At last, having for the time being exhausted the topic, Simonds changed the subject;—"I wonder when we shall see Stesilea again."
Terrant merely grunted and continued staring abstractedly at nothing in particular. For some time silence ensued, broken only by the bubbling of pipes,—well broken-in but worthy of the ministration of a feather or other cleansing object.
Simonds gazed at Terrant earnestly for some moments; then, "You are not feeling quite up to the mark these days, are you, old man?"
Without moving, Terrant replied: "I'm all right, thanks, major."
"Not fever or anything is it? If so, we had better get in one of their doctors: I expect they are pretty knowledgeable."
"Oh no, thanks; I'm as right as rain, really. Just a bit depressed perhaps; that's all."
"You certainly have been looking a bit glum at times lately. Anything on your mind?", and Simonds looked sympathetically across at him. "Tell me if I can help you in any way."
Terrant gave vent to what was almost a groan and started to his feet. Pacing back and forth across the room, he at last exclaimed, "Oh! I don't know what's the matter with me! I sleep badly. And I think I must have gone a bit mad;—I can't get Stesilea out of my mind. Day and night I see her and think of her. Her!—I don't even know that she is not just an invention of my own or somebody else's brain; or perhaps she is a ghost. What we have every reason to believe is that she is not just a natural girl; if she were—well, I would know where I was at; but as it is I can only take it that I'm a bit off my head!"
"I was afraid so," Major Simonds sighed deeply, and after a pause continued, "It's no use my telling you not to worry, because, if you are so obsessed with her, you have cause to worry. But just suppose for a moment that she turns out to be an ordinary, natural girl; what then?"
Terrant halted abruptly and faced him. "What then? Well, I shall go all-out for her. As I say, I don't know what's happened to me; but I do know that if she is an ordinary girl, I need her: I can't explain," and he smiled rather mournfully, "but Jerks isn't the only one who might be made an honest man of!"
"Hmmm—!" grunted the major. "Serious, I call it. And God alone knows what it all might lead to. The priests and people would probably object to that! I'm sorry, old man, but I can't see that you've got any hope. I'm forced to believe that Stesilea is not natural; but if she is, I doubt that you have any chance—or for that matter, anyone else either! To be quite frank, she absolutely charms even me—and I am a confirmed bachelor! I'm glad that you told me all about it: speak whenever you like—you won't bore me, and it may help you."
DURING the days that followed they were kept fully occupied,—there was so much that Xerres insisted must be seen. After an early bathe and breakfast they studied the language for an hour or more, and as the days accumulated into weeks they all found themselves conversing with a degree of ease.
They inspected a hospital which, with their very moderate knowledge of the subject, seemed to be much like others they had seen: but compared with the usual station ones in India, they were forced to admit that this appeared to be far more modern and more completely equipped with the latest scientific instruments.
The doctors all spoke some modern European language or other, according to where they had taken their degrees, and were delighted to show and explain the details of the equipment; so the morning spent there was extremely interesting, if not, in their great ignorance, very instructive.
Then there was one of the infants' hostels for the children whom the State was bringing up. The dormitories and white-robed nurses naturally reminded them of a hospital; but the bright day-nurseries scattered with toys did much to remove the idea; on going out into the playground where, at that time of day, all the children were gathered, they were agreed that they had never seen anything in any way resembling it.
The playground was a garden: green turf was broken up by clumps of flowering shrubs and great trees: everywhere children and babies, laughing and happy, some clad in scanty smocks, while others seemed to have lost even this vestige of covering, were scuttling about like rabbits;—burrowing into sand-heaps and creeping amongst the stems of the shrubs; paddling about in shallow pools of water; getting as dirty as they pleased; tumbling and rolling about together like kittens: and wandering about amongst them pretty, smiling girls,—ever watchful. They were a happy mob,—so happy that Erskine said he thought he would chuck soldiering and, dressing up as a baby, settle there to live.
And a State school that they saw had every appearance of being the same thing for older children. The classrooms were classrooms, there was no mistake about that; but the play grounds again were gay with laughter. There were the bare turf fields for the playing of football and such games, for drilling and gymnastic exercises; but the brightly flowered garden was again in evidence, and here the children were left to their own devices. And in place of shallow pools there was a fine swimming bath, wherein young boys and girls splashed and made merry, and where, again, clothing or its absence was very evidently a matter of no concern to anyone.
In exchange for a draft on their bank in India they had obtained some of the local currency; coins of gold and silver and nickel, all stamped on one side with a beautifully modelled representation of Stesilea seated in her throne: and with these they made small purchases during their wanderings among the shops of the city—statuettes of the ancient gods and goddesses of old Greece carved in ivory or jade, gold or silver; rugs woven in silk, and embroidered shawls.
The evenings they devoted to the schooling of ponies and to polo, or to the inspection of some unit of the army. Thus the days fled past on winged feet.
And there came a night when Terrant lay sleepless, unquiet and restless, tossing and turning from side to side: at one moment he was sure he was too hot, and at the next he almost shivered with cold; and all the time he knew that really he was neither too hot nor too cold, but that his thoughts were out of control and were alternately burning and freezing him.
A waning moon lay in the heavens and would not set: and the trees in the garden, etched against the sky, took varying shapes as the moon slowly moved in its course.
And a maggot lay in his brain and would not dissolve; it wriggled and twisted and forever kept his mind speculating on the problem of Stesilea.
At last, his bed seeming positively to burn him, he could no longer bear inaction. Striding on to the veranda, the grass spangled with dew-drops glistening in the moonlight offered comfort, and he stepped down bare-footed. Aimlessly and unseeing he wandered amongst the trees: and while his brain failed to recognize the stillness and beauty of the night, nevertheless it unconsciously absorbed benefit. Until it was that his mind, returning from vague dreams, suddenly realized that his feet had led him unbidden to the guarded solitude of the bath.
Halting, he was about to retrace his steps, but was restrained by the radiance of the sculptured Aphrodite: for a narrow shaft of moonlight, probing with silver fingers amongst the branches above, had followed a leafy passage and come to rest lovingly on her softly moulded form.
So enthralled was he by this vision that he advanced a few steps to gain a fuller view-point, but halted abashed; for the second time a supplementary figure occupied the shell-shaped plinth;—a figure crouching in the shade, but crowned with a moonlit, golden halo: and he remembered that he was here at a time when the place was a sanctuary. Carefully and silently he took a step backwards, but a soft voice recalled him: "Do not go; I wished you to come here," and with scarce a ripple Stesilea slid into the water and slowly swam towards the shore.
She passed through a moonbeam and Terrant caught his breath; for her white perfection shone ethereally against the rose-coloured marble, upheld as she was by water translucent as air.
It was in shadow that she mounted to the darkness of the short-clipt grass, but, as a cameo, the black background held in relief the rounded slimness of her and the profile of a delicate breast.
Enfolded in a soft, white robe she came towards him smiling,—"You have done no wrong," she said, "I wished you to come here to-night. I wanted to see you!"
"To see me, Stesilea?" Terrant asked eagerly. "Is there something I can do for you?"
Stesilea laughed gaily. "May not a woman wish to see a man except when she needs him to do something for her? No! I just wanted to see you and—"
"And what?" Terrant's voice softened and lingered over her name, "And what, Stesilea?"
"And—I wanted you to see me." Stesilea spoke in but little more than the faintest whisper,—but not so low as to be inaudible to Terrant, who was now leaning over her. "Stesilea, every time I have seen you I have known that for me there can be no one else in the world: and now—Stesilea, you are too exquisitely beautiful for words; I ache for you; I am a man and—I want you as a man wants the woman!" Terrant trembled with the excess of his feelings; he stretched out his arms to her, but something restrained him from clasping her to him.
Stesilea had been gazing deep into his eyes, and her's too shone with a light that was tender and giving. At length she closed them and shivered and sighed; then, with what sounded to Terrant like a sob, she forbade him—"Not now, Terrant, not now;—perhaps I too have human thoughts and hopes and desires": and collecting herself—"but not now, Terrant. You must leave me; I will explain another time. Please go:—sleep, Terrant, and may your dreams be beautiful."
Mazed, and lost in the tenderness of her eyes, he whispered: "My dream is beautiful!"
Again she melted under his ardour and answered: "Dreams sometimes come true!"
During what was left of the night Terrant slept really well, and it was in a happier frame of mind than usual that he joined the others at breakfast.
Simonds, looking up, noted the change, but diplomatically forbore from comments; he remarked "Hullo! You're a bit late. I hope Jerks hasn't eaten all the breakfast. Had a good night?"
"Yes, thanks!" Terrant replied cheerfully; and smiling to her, added, "Good morning, Calyce; you look prettier every morning;—I don't know what's the matter with you!"
"She dreams nice dreams,—that's why," Erskine answered for her. "Why don't you do the same, then we'd all be happy?"
"I dreamt a wonderful dream last night!" and Terrant smiled absently as he answered,
Erskine had a lot to say on this subject,—"The deuce you did! Now tell me—do dreams go contrariwise? My old guv'nor used always to tell the story of how he once dreamed the winner of the Grand National; so he put his shirt on it, and the damned old hack fell at the first fence. Of course I dream much better than that;—I once dreamt of a horse coming in last in the Derby, and I broke open my sister's money-box and put it all on it: and bless my soul if the blighter didn't come in last. My sister was awfully angry!"
"That's an interesting history, Jerks, and I suppose just goes to show that they sometimes go, what you call, contrariwise and sometimes come true," Terrant answered lightly, but added more to himself than to them, "I hope they do sometimes come true!" and went on with his breakfast in silence.
Xerres came soon to say that Stesilea wished to see them that evening; and as by now they had seen everything of importance in the city, they decided to devote the day to arranging their notes of the facts that they had learnt.
They looked forward to the evening hopefully, feeling that having learnt so much, they should soon hear for what purpose they had been received so hospitably, and had been encouraged and helped to understand the lives and aims of the people.
Terrant, above all, felt the hours dragging; for not only did he crave another meeting with Stesilea, but also he felt certain that they would hear some facts that might explain Stesilea herself. This, however, was not to be; his hopes about Stesilea were still to continue unfulfilled. What they did hear, though, was of such interest as to more or less satisfy even him—for the time being.
Xerres accompanied them to the temple and, arrived there, the procedure followed exactly the same course that had been taken on the first occasion:—the temple was silently filled, and flickering lights for a time relieved the dense gloom; and, as before, they and the three chief Advisers were soon alone facing Stesilea.
To Simonds and Erskine in particular the perfection of her beauty came again with a shock of amazement, almost of incredulity. Carefully they studied her, in the vague hope that they might satisfy themselves that she was really there, that she was not a dream imposed upon them; and they both noticed that on this occasion her expression showed a more human trait;—kindly she had shown herself to be before, but now her goodwill and interest seemed more personal towards them; and her expression and attitude towards Terrant were lingering and clinging.
Speaking more particularly to Major Simonds, she said: "I think that you have now seen in the city much of how we conduct life; and Xerres has told me that you are satisfied that we maintain no mean state of civilization. So I consider it advisable now to tell you something of our history,—who we are and whence and how we came here. Perhaps you have heard of Alexander, King of Macedon, who formed a great empire in the East and conquered even a portion of what is now India?"
Simonds nodded,—"Yes, Stesilea. We call him Alexander the Great."
Stesilea continued: "He was great! And we spring from Alexander's expedition to India. Alexander despatched a small force through the northern passes to spy out the land beyond the mountains, and, as a matter of fact, when coming here you followed the same way that they did.
"Alexander placed this force under the authority of Aceratus, one of his soothsayers and advisers; and in military command of it was one Menedemus:—Xerres, here, is a direct descendant of Menedemus.
"After a very arduous journey they found themselves in the desert that you crossed, which lies to the south and east of our boundaries, and they were upon the point of turning back towards India. But they saw these mountains in the distance and, though short of water, decided to push on thus far in case the land might be fertile and kind in their neighbourhood.
"Quite by accident they stumbled across the cleft through the outer mountains; excited, they passed through, in the hopes of finding a rich country, to suddenly emerge, as you did, in that small, barren and rocky valley.
"There, dismayed, they halted: but Menedemus sent forward a few men to explore to the end of the valley, while he made preparations for the return march.
"Early on the next morning these men had advanced as far as the mountains permitted, and there they surprised a family of uncouth natives, who fled into a cave. These they followed and captured in the underground passage, and then forced them to lead them through to the end. And there, spread before their eyes, was the fertile basin that is now Saria.
"In haste they returned to Menedemus and reported what they had found. At the time he was in fear that they were lost, so long had they been absent, and was discussing with Aceratus whether to follow them or to wait for one day more before turning their backs on that inhospitable waste.
"But now they continued forward in full force and safely passed through the mountains; but barely had they emerged than they were attacked by the natives, and them they put to the sword, men, women and children.
"And thus they entered into possession.
"Runners were sent back to Alexander with the news of their find, and he, later, sent a further small force of picked men, together with women, under one Penidas and ordered that they should settle in Saria and colonize it for Macedon.
"And that is how was started this state of Saria: we ourselves are the pure and straight descent of those Macedonian troops and women.
"But it would seem that Alexander forgot this little colony, or perhaps he delayed too long: he departed from India, and at no time was any further message received from him. Being happy and contented here, the colonists willingly allowed themselves to be forgotten and, setting about the development of their country, cut themselves off from the outer world.
"Soon Penidas, with the consent of the people, set himself up as king, and his dynasty continued to reign for over two thousand years. But a time came, about two hundred and fifty years ago, when the king attempted to place a heavy yoke of subjection on the necks of the people: they would not consent to this, and he paid the penalty of his harshness.
"Calchas, here, my chief adviser, is the descendant of Penidas, and I trust he does not aspire to the throne of his forefathers." Stesilea regarded him intently for a moment or two while Calchas murmured something in a low tone and shook his head, smiling.
Erskine took an instant and intense dislike to Calchas; he did not like his smile, and he thought his expression to be crafty and cunning. But he preferred to gaze at Stesilea and, listening to her narrative, he soon forgot Calchas and everything to do with him. Stesilea again addressed herself to Simonds and his companions: "For over two thousand two hundred years we have kept ourselves secluded from the rest of the world: we have interfered with no one, and in the same way we have avoided interference by others: stray would-be visitors have been turned away or exterminated without so much as a glimpse of Saria.
"Now, as you know, we have permitted—nay, assisted—your entry into our country, and are showing you all our resources. But perhaps you do not realize that we deliberately caused rumours to be spread in India, so as to incite the interest of your government to such a degree that an expedition might be sent to verify these rumours; and to make it more interesting we spread false rumours, such as that many pilgrims were coming here and that we were recruiting amongst them and among outside tribes.
"I will explain our abrupt change of policy.
"During the last few years we have watched certain developments that are taking place in your world, and these developments are giving us to fear for our future security and integrity.
"We do not wish to be mixed up in world affairs;—our happy freedom here we value more highly than anything else. In order to secure this freedom, we became convinced that we should do one of two things;—either we should greatly extend our frontiers and declare ourselves at once to the world, or else we must ask for the support and protection of some other power.
"Our first step was to procure modern arms and to develop as large an army as possible and to see that it was highly efficient according to modern standards:—I believe you are satisfied that we have achieved a degree of success!
"Now we must decide on which of the alternative courses to pursue: we are strong enough to extend our frontiers if we so decide, or we can ask for support; if the latter, there are two Powers whom we can approach—India and Russia.
"At this moment we are taking a middle course, and ask for your opinion and advice."
For some moments Simonds considered his reply; at first his thoughts were entirely composed of astonishment at her masterly grasp of statesmanship and the extraordinary, lucid sketch of the history of Saria that she had unfolded to them: he was diffident as to the reply that he must make,—whether he was capable of answering in terms and with a clearness of which her exposition was worthy; rather hesitatingly he began: "You must understand that I did not anticipate being called upon to give an opinion on such a serious question; neither am I authorized to pledge the government of India—or Great Britain—in any way.
"But one point is quite obvious to me," and here he spoke with complete assurance, "and I am positive I shall be expressing the views of the government, were it consulted. I think that you should forthwith give up all idea of extending your frontiers: the government of India could not look on such a step with approval or even unconcernedly, for every tribe on our frontier would immediately spring up in arms, and I think further that the result would be a general flare-up of war.
"Then we might expect interference by Russia,—which again would be an eventuality that my government could not regard with equanimity.
"And I firmly believe that the final consequence for you would be that in a very short time you would find you had lost your independence and freedom.
"I cannot say so definitely, but I think that if you were to ask for protection, my government would at least feel itself to be in such a position that it could not refuse.
"On the other hand, you must understand that Saria is a long way from the frontier; and we cannot extend our boundaries, any more than you could, without stirring up trouble with the surrounding nations. Nevertheless, I think that matters could be arranged whereby you would be afforded the assistance that you desire.
"Perhaps you will tell me, as I am very curious to know, just what are the developments in the outside world that are causing you to modify your policy."
Stesilea, first smiling at her advisers, said: "Thank you, Major Simonds; your answer is just what I counted on, and suggested to my advisers and council; and it is really all that we require at this commencement of negotiations.
"You ask what are our definite reasons for fear;—they are two in number: we see that the Western nations are all scrambling to acquire colonies; that any weaker nation is liable to find their country invaded and absorbed. It is true that the natural barriers surrounding our country are well-nigh insurmountable—at present; but we are a rich prize.
"The second development is a material one which may well result in our natural defences being of little value. I speak of the possibility of flight becoming an acquired art: we know of the experiments that are being conducted, and I am firmly convinced that in a few years' time war machines will fly in the air, and that against them all our defences will be powerless."
A dead silence followed this exposition of faith, for but few experiments in flying were being carried out and they were but little known. At last Terrant remarked: "Well, that's interesting! Certainly one had heard that attempts were being made and that occasionally somebody achieved a hop of a hundred yards or so, but somehow one didn't take it seriously. Of course, if they do bring it off, defences, strategy, tactics—everything will be changed."
Stesilea nodded agreement, seriously—"Yes," she said slowly. "Everything will be changed." Then she continued briskly: "Bearing, as you will, our request for help, there is more that you need to know; and the time that you can stay here is drawing short—for we are approaching autumn and the snows.
"I think you should now go to examine briefly our north-western frontier, and on the way you can see some of our mines, if you wish," and she looked inquiringly at Simonds.
He nodded approval, saying, "Yes, we should do that: but as to mines, I fear that none of us know anything about such things. I think it will be sufficient if we are told what minerals are workable here."
And it was agreed that Xerres should make arrangements to escort them up into the mountains and that they should start on the next day but one.
Major Simonds then approached a delicate subject. "Stesilea, I think it more than likely that the government may ask us about you; what are we to say?"
"I see that perhaps I must tell you something," she answered, "and in the course of the next few days I shall decide just how much; on the other hand, I may determine that it is quite enough for you to know that my will is accepted here and that my commands are obeyed."
Major Simonds bowed in acquiescence, and at this moment the white cat, which had been lying asleep on the arm of her throne, rose to its feet and, arching its back, yawned widely and long: it was felt that it expressed the opinion of all that the conference was finished for that night.
Erskine openly admired it and asked: "May I stroke it?"
Stesilea smiled—"He is a fine creature, isn't he? Yes, he will permit it."
Erskine mounted the steps and stroked and scratched the cat, to its manifest delight: but his eyes were on Stesilea. At these close quarters he could note the soft, fine texture of her skin, and the rise and fall of her bosom as she breathed. Nevertheless, beautiful as she was, her nearness seemed almost to bring a chill to his blood.
And as his hand ceased from stroking the cat he let it brush lightly against her arm.
Sharply she turned on him and anger blazed in her eyes:—"Erskine, never do that again; I warn you that you are lucky not to be suffering horribly, for I know you did that on purpose. This time I forgive you!" And as Erskine rejoined the others he found that he was trembling in every limb.
When she dismissed them, she wished them a pleasant trip into the mountains and a good night: and her eyes rested on Terrant thoughtfully.
Late though the hour was, they found Calyce waiting in the living-room, and on the table wine and cakes set out for them.
"What was Stesilea talking to you about, Jerks?" asked Simonds.
"Well, as a matter of fact," Erskine answered, and a dark flush spread over his face, "as I finished stroking the cat I let my hand touch Stesilea's arm; it was like touching—" and he thought for a moment, "like touching jade, but very cold. And Stesilea was angry and told me not to do it again!"
Terrant flared up, "You impertinent young puppy!—" but Calyce, trembling, and her cheeks blanched, clung to Erskine's arm, crying, "Jerks! Jerks, you didn't! Oh, how terrible!" She would not explain her words but fled to her room.
Erskine looked thoroughly abashed but then went on jauntily, "That cat is a cat anyway; just an ordinary, common or garden cat; so, though I don't mean even to think of touching Stesilea again, we have learnt something!" Major Simonds agreed, but remarked that at no time would the idea have entered his head of taking liberties with Stesilea,—there was something about her that made it seem inadvisable: however, no harm had come of it and he was quite sure that Erskine had had his lesson.
IT was Erskine's turn to toss about, sleepless, in his bed. He listened to Calyce's gentle, even breathing but his mind continued to dwell on the chill feeling of paralysis that held him when Stesilea looked at him in anger. Sleep seemed to be as far away as ever, but gradually a quiet stillness came over his body and, with eyes still open, his mind ceased troubling and lapsed into blankness.
Suddenly he seemed to see a luminous patch before him that slowly enlarged and brightened: then something began to take shape, and he saw again the marble throne, and Stesilea, and the cat. As earlier in the night he had done, he now seemed to mount the steps again and stroke the cat; and again his hand brushed against her arm. But this time his fingers tingled, as if with pins and needles, and then all sensation in them passed away, except one of intense cold: and the cold, dead feeling spread through his hand, his wrist, and his arm; and through his other arm, and his legs and his body: and not one portion of a limb could he move. At last the icy feeling seemed about to seize his very heart—and he came to with a shout of horror, and bathed in a cold sweat of fear.
Calyce sprang up from her sleep and, lighting a lamp, found Erskine pale and trembling but thankful to recognize that what he had passed through was a dream. But was it a dream? She comforted him, and having regained his composure, he related what he had seemed to see and feel: Calyce shook her head and, pale and agitated now in her turn, said "That was not a dream, that was a vision given to you by Stesilea. Stesilea is kind, and this was her warning to you. I think that she was very kind, that you did not really suffer this when you touched her; for it is well known that many years ago the chief priest touched her one night during a great assembly,—like you, wishing to learn more about Stesilea than is permitted. And before the eyes of all he was frozen; he gave one cry of pain and horror; and when Stesilea told others to remove him he was still standing upright; but they found that he was dead, and as a lump of stone!"
When, next morning, Erskine narrated what had happened to him during the night, it is to be feared that Terrant, though interested, was slightly unsympathetic: the major, however, was deeply affected and listened intently to the details of what he had suffered, and to Calyce's comments and story:—"I don't know what to think," he said. "Rumour told us that she only lives by night, and certainly it has been only by night that we have seen her; but it would seem that at those times Stesilea is very much alive, and possessed of terrible powers. For myself, I am frankly afraid of her powers; but I agree with Calyce,—I believe she is very kind."
Later that morning, when Xerres paid his customary visit, Simonds appealed to him,—"Xerres, there are certain things that I wish to ask you; you may be able to answer me or not,—I do not know; but please do not be offended or think that I ask out of idle curiosity. I wish to ask you about Stesilea,—is she a spirit or is she a human being? Do you worship her as your supreme goddess, or is she your queen, or what is her status?"
Xerres pondered for awhile; he then replied, "I will answer your second question first. We do not worship Stesilea: we worship the supreme God, who is beauty in all things: but we recognize Stesilea as having great powers under the god, and in worshipping him we render attendance on her. She is not our queen, but she is ruler of the state; she advises or gives orders to the council and her will is carried out."
Simonds interrupted, "There is another thing;—tell me, do you, or I should say the council, ever disagree with her or refuse to obey her orders?"
"Such a thing has happened only once," Xerres answered; and smiling grimly, "You yourselves saw the payment exacted for that;—I do not think that anyone would disobey her twice!
"As to what she is, I may not tell you; she has been with us for many hundreds of years; we know what she has been, but that also I may not tell you;—perhaps Stesilea will tell you herself."
Major Simonds sighed deeply, while Terrant and Erskine sat silent and bewildered:—"I don't understand a little bit;" he muttered, "you talk of what she is and of what she has been,—I can't make head or tail of it. But if you cannot explain more fully, you can't; and that's all there is to it. I understand now that I understand nothing;—except, perhaps, that it's no use worrying our heads over things that are beyond us." Xerres smiled non-committally and Simonds concluded, "Thank you, Xerres, for enlightening us as far as you can, or may: we must simply think that Stesilea is perhaps a spirit or some being favoured of the gods and endowed with supernatural powers!"
Xerres nodded assent.
Then he pointed out that really he had come to discuss their trip to the mountains. He wished to know if they would like to take Hernam Singh and, on being answered in the affirmative, said that they should be ready to start at the first break of day, as there would be a long ride before them.
Xerres was right; it was a very long ride when, after one of those cheerless breakfasts in the dark, they set out as the first glimmerings of light tinged the eastern sky. They found that to the foot-hills of the mountains that ran from west to north, and which in that dry, clear atmosphere seemed to be almost within a morning's walking distance, was in reality close upon forty miles. Forty miles of farmed land that was covered with crops nearing their harvest time. Here and there solid-looking bungalows nestled amongst their trees and gleamed white amid the brilliant colours of flowers and shrubs. Here and there too were low, square structures which Xerres explained were state granaries.
At one of the farm houses they halted to find a second breakfast of coffee, bread and honey and fruit ready prepared: the farmer and his wife, a young and healthy-looking couple, met them on the road and, with their cheerful hospitality, soon saw that they were at their ease and were not neglecting the fare;—frankly glad to welcome them, they explained that they had of course heard of the strangers who were visiting the state, an unprecedented event in the history of Saria, but had scarcely hoped even to see these people, white like themselves and coming from a part of the world whence they originally sprang.
At about mid-day they were similarly entertained to lunch by an elderly couple who, Xerres told them, had some years since retired from work, and were now passing their old age in well-earned peace. They rested for two hours at this halt and then, rather silently and sleepily, continued their way—by no means sorry to see that they really were closely approaching the mountains. Soon they found that the track was unmistakably on the up-grade and then, entering a valley down which a stream chattered and splashed, began to climb seriously.
The valley became a gorge of which the sides, densely overgrown with trees and underbush, grew more and more precipitous; and they were surprised to note that the track, which was cut into the slope of the hill, should now be called a road,—being metalled and wide enough to permit vehicles to pass each other. Simonds commented on this to Xerres who informed them with some pride that similar roads led to every pass in the mountain wall and that all were maintained in perfect order so that, in case of need, troops and artillery might proceed rapidly to the defence of any threatened point.
The gorge took a sharp turn and, the trees and undergrowth ceasing abruptly, they halted, taken aback by the spectacle that confronted them. "Well I'm damned!" Terrant exclaimed, "This might be an important Indian hill station!" for before them stretched a valley about a mile long and opening to half that extent at its widest point; it had been cleared to form a great parade ground and along one side lay serried barrack buildings and workshops, which were faced from the other side by officers' quarters that clung to the steep slope which was the forefoot of the mountains themselves. And over all brooded the craggy, snow-patched peaks,—each tufted with its plume of smoke-like cloud.
Passing occasional groups of smart, sturdy soldiers, who took marked interest in their appearance, they came, under Xerres' guidance, to a bungalow that had been got ready for their reception; and it was with a comfortably accustomed feeling that they recognized that they were now in the hands of batmen,—soldiers again in a soldier town.
After a hot bath, a sun-downer and an excellent dinner they were joined for a short while by Xerres who came to warn them for another early start on the next morning: and before turning in they accompanied him for a stroll round the men's quarters and bazaar. They found that there was ample accommodation for ten thousand troops, together with hospitals and full equipment as an important, advanced military base. They learnt too that there were eight other stations like this, hidden away in the hills.
The next day they followed a splendidly engineered road that twisted and turned and climbed along the steep flank of the mountain range, until at last trees fell away below them, to be replaced by areas of snow and tongues of glacier. And during the afternoon they reached their destination where, instead of the whiteness of snow and the blackness of forbidding rock, they saw clear sky to the west of them framed between two towering peaks.
Here was a village of stone huts,—a village occupied solely by the guardians of the pass; and here, although the sun still shone on them, ice lay in every splash of shadow and a biting wind made them turn up their collars and think of the joys of a blazing fire.
The commander of the outpost met them and, after formal greetings, entered into an animated discussion with Xerres: they understood the drift of the conversation,—that it concerned some party of men who, the commander said, with grins of cynical amusement, were now forming camp quite close—only about two miles distant. Xerres then turned and told them that they had come to this pass in particular as for some time past the slow and difficult approach of this exploratory party had been watched; and now the time had come when an end must be put to their inquisitiveness. "But let us go," he suggested, "and let us have a look at them for ourselves. Hernam Singh, come and see the sort of country our army is trained to fight over; not much good for cavalry, I'm afraid, but your gurkhas would thoroughly understand it."
A walk of two or three hundred yards carried them through the neck of the pass and they entered a sunken trench, massively lined with hewn stone, from which steps on either side led down into cellars cut into the living rock.
Soon they issued into a fire-trench that straggled across the outer face of the mountain, and the post-commander led them to a place whence two sentries were staring fixedly downwards. They mounted the fire-step and a limitless expanse of empty air met their eyes. Then they found that down-sloping apertures were fashioned in the parapet through which the country "not much good for cavalry" lay exposed to view.
Immediately in front of them and for fully four hundred yards the steeply sloping ground was as bare as the back of one's hand and swept clean of every vestige of cover; thence the ground fell away still more quickly, becoming, as they were to see later, almost precipitous: two or three razor-backed ridges formed the sole lines of approach, and these, bare and windswept, extended outwards and downwards for about two miles. Beyond and below, a tumbled, riven and densely jungled country extended as far as eye could see.
From the far end of one of the ridges and from just below its crest rose four thin columns of smoke.
To absorb and digest the full meaning of this scene occupied two or three minutes: at last Erskine broke the silence, "Thank you!" said he, "my old guv'nor always said, 'A good officer will avoid leading his men into an impossible situation!' I propose joining the side that is holding this position. And what about those poor perishers down there who are trying to warm their hands at those meagre fires?"
Xerres laughed and answered, "To-night we shall persuade them that they have come the wrong way, and that they do not wish to see anything more in this direction."
"That sounds good fun!" Erskine ejaculated, "What sized party shall you send, and can I go with them? How many of the enemy are there; do you know?"
Xerres answered the second question first, "There are about twenty armed men and forty porters: but I do not think we shall attack them with rifles, as you seem to expect; we will try some other method; fright is a good weapon. There will be no objection to any of you coming to see the result."
"Good!" said Erskine, "But what are you going to do?"
Xerres shook his head and smiled; then, "I think we had better persuade them that they don't wish to come here again," he replied and he would say no more.
They now returned to the quarters of the outpost and found that, the sun having sunk behind the mountains, the cold was intense although, fortunately, they were sheltered from the wind: and while wondering just what was going to happen to the trespassing band, they could not help feeling a certain sympathy for them, exposed as they were to a piercing and icy blast.
After supper Xerres came to fetch those of them who wished to accompany him to watch the discomfiture of the foreigners. Naturally they had discussed among themselves what means Xerres intended to employ as a weapon of expulsion, and Erskine had said that he was firmly convinced that the wily bird would use some supernatural power; to this suggestion Simonds retorted that he would not be surprised if Xerres used a mislaid comet to achieve his ends, but that probably some very simple artifice was to be resorted to. Simple artifice or not, it was to be noted that the major and Terrant were every bit as anxious as Erskine to view the proceedings, and they all jumped to their feet and struggled into their poshteens* when Xerres put in an appearance.
(* A poshteen is a skin coat with the fur inside; it is extensively used on the frontier.)
Outside, they found that the night was moonless but sufficiently lit by the stars for the outline of any object to be discerned and, as their eyes grew accustomed, they found it easy to follow the man ahead as they proceeded in single file. They came to the fire-trench and, mounting to the parapet, crossed on to the glacis.
To their surprise they found that besides themselves only Xerres and the post-commander completed the party, but without comment they briskly followed the latter who now led the way. The open slope was soon behind them and more slowly and carefully they followed the course of the narrow ridge; for, while the passage was of ample width to give them a feeling of security, the impenetrable gulf of darkness that lay on each side was forbiddingly close at hand. Rapidly they drew nearer to the camp fires which now blazed steadily, for the wind had dropped, until at last they could see clearly the figures of men seated around them.
At about three hundred yards distance Xerres found a platform of rock and, following his example, they sat down in a little group, facing down the ridge: and the light from the distant fires was sufficiently strong to distinguish even the expressions depicted on their faces;—on those of the Englishmen expectancy, slightly bewildered:—on that of the post-commander grim amusement mingled with anticipation. But Xerres bent on the little encampment a rigid, uncompromising stare; his jaw firmly set, his lips fixed in a thin line and his eyes unblinking.
In the dim light they could see that his eyes gradually lost expression and then turned upwards so that, wide open as they were, only the whites showed blankly; his face became drawn and haggard, and about him was nowhere any trace of movement.
All except the commander, who was now sitting unconcernedly observing the few movements in the camp, watched Xerres intently; it was an unpleasant spectacle, and they found themselves shuddering from time to time with a feeling of awe verging on horror.
They expected and momentarily awaited they knew not what; and nothing happened: the stars shone brightly and coldly; there was not a movement in the air and the fires of the encampment burned brightly—thrusting spears of flame straight upwards towards the zenith; and a deadly silence was over all.
How long this state of expectancy continued it was hard to say, it seemed to be endless but was probably for a few short minutes only: and then at last Xerres' eyes returned to normal, their blank glaze dissolved and the tension in his face relaxed.
He turned and smiled; and just the one word "Wait!" he murmured gently.
And now the post-commander no longer smiled unconcernedly, but breathlessly watched the camp: and still not a sound.
Then it seemed that a mist gently drifted across the fires, and with a low laugh the commander breathed a long "Ah-h-h!"
The mist gradually thickened and with amazement they saw the fires as through blackened glass,—the mist was not white, but black, pitch-black and sluggish.
Soon all light from the camp was completely blotted out,—but the stars still sparkled and there was no mist where they sat and watched.
Suddenly shouts sounded, men calling to each other and complaining. Then they perceived glowing, luminous balls moving quickly backwards and forwards, here and there through the dense fog: and the shouting became incoherent and that of men terrified, in panic.
And the post-commander laughed aloud.
The moving lights increased in number, and collected together, and darted apart, hither and thither; and a clatter of metal on rock was added to the clamour of the shouts that were now intermingled with screams.
Faster moved the lights and then were to be seen dashing down the steep slope below the ridge, and the shoutings drew away and grew fainter;—and faded into stillness.
The stars shone brightly and coldly; there was not a movement in the air, and the fires of the encampment burned brightly—thrusting spears of flame straight upwards towards the zenith; and a deadly silence was over all.
There were no men seated around the fires.
Xerres rose to his feet:—"We will come down tomorrow morning and collect the arms and other things of interest," he said calmly.
"But what happened?" gasped Major Simonds; "What was it; how did you do it?"
"I did not do it," Xerres replied, "But certain simple forces of nature were made use of," and nothing more would he answer to any of their questions.
On the following morning they accompanied a party of about thirty men down to the encampment: approaching it closely, they saw that a series of shelves partially surrounded a flat and open platform on the side of the ridge, thus forming a possible resting place,—and one, also, that was to a certain extent sheltered from the cold wind that was already beginning to blow.
There was little to show for what had happened the night before—except that the camp was empty of all except its equipment. The last embers of the fires were still hot and glowing, blankets were spread upon the ground and the remains of a supper were still in evidence: but near one of the fires some pots and pans were scattered about as if a mob of beasts had charged through the camp, and several rifles that had evidently been leaning against a wall of rock had fallen into an untidy heap.
The men commenced to collect these relics while they themselves went with Xerres to examine the more sheltered shelves; and on one of these they found the sole visible tragedy;—the contorted body of a man, lying on its face, while close to it stood a camp-bed, a folding table and chair, and a small tin trunk: evidently this had been the officer commanding the party. Xerres turned the body over on to its back, and a bearded face, distorted by terror and anger, was presented to their view: nowhere could they see any sign of blood or other injury but in its clenched hands was a heavy axe-haft; the steel head of the axe was curious and furnished much food for thought, for it was now but a shapeless mass of burnt iron and trickles of the molten metal had even run down the haft, burning deeply into it.
"Good God!" the major whispered, "was he hit by lightning? He shows no sign of burning, himself,—nor do his clothes!"
Xerres merely shrugged his shoulders.
Throwing open the trunk which was found to contain some clothing, maps and a comprehensive collection of surveying instruments, Xerres suggested "I think we have seen enough: shall we go back?" and in answer to a look of inquiry from Terrant he added "Yes! Russians again!"
The place gave them an uncanny feeling and Simonds heartily agreed to a move, but demanded "What do you suppose has happened to the rest of the party?" to which Xerres, looking down on to the dense forest spread out below them, answered with a sweep of his hand and a shrug "They are somewhere down there; perhaps some of them will find a way out!" and, with a shiver, they gladly left that place.
When they reached the line of entrenchment they halted and took a last look at the immense country of which they had a bird's eye view;—"You see what our frontier is like;" said Xerres, "the rest, except from the side you entered from, is much the same. As things are we have little to fear, though we are agreed that the friendship and protection of a powerful nation is something we would be wise to accept. It will be another matter, I suppose, if or when flying is an accomplished fact:—and I would not have you think that we can stage such things as you saw last night on an unlimited scale."
Then, making their way back to the stone huts where they found their ponies waiting, they took their leave and started a rapid, downhill march.
Xerres told them that it was proposed that they should stay this and the following night at the hill-station so that on the morrow they might visit a gold mine which lay reasonably close; he thought they would find it an easy and pleasant day's outing and at the same time an interesting experience: and he went on to talk of batteries and lodes and extraction and other technical matters until Simonds laughed and expostulated "I am sure we shall all enjoy the outing and be thoroughly interested in what we see; but please understand that not one of us knows the first thing about mining, and all those details that you are giving convey absolutely nothing to us!"
Xerres joined in the laugh that followed and admitted that the profession of soldiering—as cavalry or infantry—scarcely demanded an acquaintance with such matters as he had found need to learn.
And early in the afternoon they dropped back into the sheltered valley: they found there some slight excitement about the happenings of the previous night, news of which had been received by heliograph. Although visual signalling by day and by night had so far proved itself equal to all emergencies, Xerres intimated that they were about to install a telephone system to link up all the outposts with headquarters in the City of Saria. And when they questioned him on the point, he informed them that all the equipment etc., left by the would-be intruders was going to be brought to army headquarters, chiefly in order that a thorough investigation might be made amongst the maps and documents;—"Though," said he, "we know quite well who those people were, nevertheless we wish to find out, if possible, if they had any special instructions and if Saria is again mentioned as an object to be explored."
They visited the mine next day: a gentle ride of a few miles along a good road, that wound among the wooded foot-hills, brought them to an open valley down which meandered a sparkling little river. This they followed towards its source and Xerres told them, "Panning anywhere along here brings a good return: that is how the lode was originally found. Nowadays we send children here for holidays in camp and let them work the gravel; they enjoy themselves thoroughly and, besides dust, often find good-sized nuggets."
The racket and thunder of stamps could now be heard and soon they passed out from the peaceful woods into a clearing where were the mills and spoil-heaps.
Xerres showed them the whole procedure from the tunnel burrowing into the mountain side, whence the gold-bearing rock was brought, to the moulds in which the gold bricks were cast; and in the office they were shown the insignificant bricks themselves; finally they were given a nugget each, found in the river, as souvenirs.
An interesting day; but the details they decided to leave strictly alone; it was enough for them to know that sufficient gold was procured to purchase from the outside world everything that the state did or could require.
Then from the summit of a hill Xerres pointed out the sites whence were obtained coal and iron and other minerals: Terrant, in amazement, exclaimed, "From what you tell us, it seems that in this small area nearly every mineral that man uses is deposited and easily mined!"
Xerres nodded, "Yes, except for jewels, of which we have so far found no trace, I think we have everything. I can't imagine that there is another place like this in the world."
The following day they returned to the capital. As they got nearer and the scent of burning wood gradually overcame those of ripening crops, Erskine sniffed contentedly; "It's sort of nice to get back;" he confided to Terrant, "quite feels like getting home!" Terrant sighed, "You're a lucky young blighter, Jerks, and there's no doubt about it, this is a wonderful place for a home." Erskine glanced at him sympathetically and relapsed into silence; but, "Poor old devil!" he thought to himself.
And for Erskine it was a home-coming; for Calyce was expecting their arrival that afternoon and had been watching for them from the top of the steps to the temple garden during an unstated period; as soon as they appeared she flew down the steps and greeted him in a way that would make anyone, a stranger to the facts, think that he had been absent for weeks or months; he, for his part, threw himself off his pony and, as Terrant put it, started clucking about like an old hen.
So they returned to their rooms:—but now there was a slight feeling of unrest; they knew that they must soon start on their return journey to India, and Erskine had to contemplate a possible long parting from Calyce;—while for Terrant there lay in prospect he knew not what.
FOR a few days they were kept busy with the lighter side of life. First their services were much in demand as referees in a football tournament that was being held in the army, and over which much popular excitement was exhibited. And then came the turn of the suggested polo tournament;—with Hernam Singh they made a good four, but in the second round they were handsomely beaten by the team which eventually won the series. So pleased were they with the quality and sportsmanship of the polo played throughout that, as Major Simonds said in a short speech at the end—in Greek, be it said—"We took a positive pleasure in being beaten; and we propose sending a cup from India, to be played for yearly in future."
Terrant continued to be worried and distraught, and his sleeping hours passed unrestfully: having seen nothing more of Stesilea and having had no word from her, his doubts once again returned in full force.
And during a sleepless night he again took refuge from his anxiety in the garden: coming to the entrance of the temple, he felt a vague desire to rest in its quiet, peaceful semi-light: so approaching the doors he pushed on one and it noiselessly swung open before him: the interior, dimly lit by the hanging lamps along each side and by half a dozen tapers that were fixed in sconces at the far end, was empty; and a heavy silence brooded.
He entered hesitatingly and, somewhat to his surprise, found that he had no sensation of fear or wrongdoing; so, taking a taper and lighting it at one of the lamps, he decided to examine the temple thoroughly. Walking down one side he found that the columns were of marble, exquisitely carved, and then that the walls too were entirely lined with panels of marble decorated with paintings of great beauty and divided by pillars that were inlaid with gold and silver traceries.
He turned his attention to the pictures and took them to be a collection representing journeyings and victories of Alexander the Great. Crossing to the other side, he found a series that obviously related to the progress of the discoverers of Saria; and he was particularly struck by one picture that showed the small force climbing what he recognized to be the same pass where they themselves had been nearly overwhelmed by the avalanche. There followed other pictures showing the dark cleft in the mountains, what was evidently the entrance to the underground passage, and a view of the great basin of Saria surrounded by its snowy sentinels. Then there was one that held Terrant motionless,—a glorious portrait of Stesilea herself, so brilliantly executed that it appeared alive, and by her, prideful, a great, white Persian cat. As he gazed at it, enthralled, he was struck by the fact that always, as he saw her, her cheeks were marble-like and deficient in colour; but this picture showed her glowing with all the colour of perfect health: from this his thoughts turned with a shock to the supposition that here was Stesilea, apparently shown as being present when Saria was first occupied by the Greeks,—Stesilea, to whom he had talked but a few days ago. And then the next picture caught his eye;—Stesilea again, but this time lying on a couch, colourless and marble-like; dead?—and yet there were no mourners!
At this moment a whispering rustle, proceeding from the far end, penetrated his reverie and, turning, he was in time to see the black curtains slowly parting.
Light shone through the opening, and there was she—Stesilea—seated in her marble throne and meeting his eyes with hers.
Impetuously he hastened towards her and, beckoning to him, she pointed to the steps at her feet. He seated himself on the top step and found he was trembling: and gazing at her, he trembled afresh at her beauty and the chill of her pallor. But Stesilea returned his look, and, losing himself in the lustrous violet of her eyes, he saw her for a moment as the picture represented her, a flush mantling her breast and cheeks.
At last words came to his lips, the unanswered thoughts that had so long been as a canker in his mind;—"Stesilea, what are you?—human or divine? Marble animated by a spirit, a ghost or just my imagination?"
She answered softly, "Perhaps I am all of these, but what is it to you? You who are here to obtain information for your government; to advise me and my people; what difference does it make to you who or what I am?"
Terrant now broke loose from the bonds of restraint that he had imposed upon himself for so long and sprang to his feet; "Stesilea," he exclaimed, and she closed her eyes as if great weakness had overcome her, "Stesilea, tell me—you must tell me: if you are ghost, or spirit—or something different from us, then I must go,—I can't bear this! But if you are really just what you look—the most beautiful being I have ever seen—I love you, I love you desperately; and, of course, I know now that I have loved you ever since I saw you in that dream; I am mad for you; Stesilea, I must—. You must be real, otherwise why did I see you in a dream? And you knew that I saw you—perhaps you made me see you,—God knows how!" For a few moments he was silent, battling to regain control of himself; then he continued less wildly, "I'm sorry, Stesilea,—I couldn't help it! Open your eyes,—darling." He uttered the last word in scarcely more than a whisper, and now he leant forward, with his hand on the arm of her throne, so that his face was but a few inches from hers.
With a sigh she obeyed him and met his gaze fully and frankly;—and in her eyes lay everything of tenderness and longing. At last she answered, sighing anew, "Terrant, I am frightened. Yes, I made you see me,—but how shall I explain? I saw each of you as soon as you decided to come here; and when I saw you I wished you to see me—I wanted you to love me. I want you to love me with all your being for I love you,—I want you! But I am frightened—for you. While I am what you see, I am not. Oh gods, help me, tell me what to do!—I will tell you my story, but it will sound impossible to you. Sit there and listen."
Terrant sank down to his former position on the top step; and speaking calmly, impersonally, she went on—"I have told you all how this land was first discovered by us, and how the commander of the expedition, Aceratus, sent back messengers to Alexander. And how, in answer to the news, more men were sent here, bringing women, to help colonize the country. Aceratus' wife and daughter accompanied that second party, and the daughter was then about seventeen years of age. You have heard too how Aceratus was chief soothsayer, magician and adviser to Alexander, but I did not tell you that he was at that time experimenting in the most advanced stages of magic and the deepest occult secrets.
"Soon after her arrival his wife died, and he gave himself up more completely than ever to the study of his science. Then there came the time when he had to have an assistant in his experiments—one who would be willing to be experimented upon.
"And as that assistant he chose his daughter, and she,—perhaps with fear in her heart,—agreed.
"He used to put her into trances and send her spirit about the world to bring him news of its happenings: but soon he tired of this and sent her to the spirit world to find out ancient and unknown things about this sphere and even the beginnings of it.
"Then he sent her to other worlds, to the stars in the heavens, there to discover what happened to the souls of people when they died: this is forbidden and failure met his efforts,—but from these trances his daughter returned with difficulty and wearied unto death. So absorbed did Aceratus become and so hopeful of finally meeting with complete success that he scarcely noticed the increasing exhaustion of his daughter nor, between his more frequent experiments, did he give her fatigued spirit time to renew its strength.
"And at last, one day, on being recalled to its body, her spirit found its home occupied by an alien soul, and was too weak to cast it out.
"The intruder was the soul of a young and uneducated girl which, during similar ventures, had failed to return to its body until too late; and the body, an empty shell, had died unoccupied and before its time. This homeless spirit, searching and anxious to complete its destiny, at last thus found another tenantless body and occupied it.
"And in such manner the soul of Aceratus' daughter became in its turn an evicted vagrant.
"Aceratus soon discovered that some calamity had occurred, for his daughter in the flesh was no longer a sympathetic companion, but rather a malevolent stranger. However, he succeeded one day by trickery in binding her in the shackles of a trance, and then, by questioning, learnt the truth. But he could not by command expel the alien spirit from its stolen home, for it already knew the penalty and was strong to resist. So perforce he left his own body and, in the spirit, did battle; and he conquered, and freed the body of his daughter.
"But his daughter's spirit, having proved itself too weak to regain its body unaided, had lost the right to that body and so could not return: Aceratus therefore, by deep magic, preserved the body against corruption and thereafter enabled her to re-occupy and partially revivify it, at will, during the hours of darkness.
"Death cannot touch her body nor release her soul except under natural conditions; and such conditions cannot be unless or until certain things come to pass.
"Stesilea was the daughter of Aceratus, and I am Stesilea.
"And I, Stesilea, am here, now, before you. Granted by the gods great powers, I am free, as a spirit, to roam as I will and to gain untold knowledge; and at night to inhabit this body and to direct the affairs of Saria. But during these hours of the night while I inhabit my body I have all the hopes and longings of a woman; hopes and longings that must pass unsatisfied until, the gods being willing, I can regain my body and live my uncompleted life on earth.
"But my father, Aceratus, returned from his trance, into which he had plunged himself to save me, weak and on the point of death: he commanded the chiefs of our people to guard this my body faithfully, and to prepare a sanctuary for it; and he instructed them that at night I would seemingly live, and that I would advise them infallibly in the governance of the state.
"And so the centuries have passed: this temple was built to shelter, and a priesthood established to care for me: and through instruments chosen from the people and priesthood I have governed Saria.
"That is who, and what, I am.
"I who speak to you now am I; and I speak to you through my own body,—sometimes I have spoken to you and you have seen me in the spirit. This is my body; but it does not live, and cannot live and die except under conditions that may never be accomplished."
She lapsed into silence and Terrant, tense with the stupefied interest in which he had been held, demanded "What are the conditions? They must be accomplished! I will accomplish them!"
"Someone must help,—and from no one but you will I accept help—because I love you, Terrant," she acknowledged, "and I yearn for human joys with you. But I fear for you,—the conditions involve great danger; besides, I feel some evil thoughts which I cannot trace to their source; I suspect someone but cannot believe that he would be so treacherous;—so I do not know that I will permit you to run the risk,—I must think. I will not tell now. Dawn approaches and I must return to the other world:—you must leave me!"
Terrant sprang to his feet; "Let me help you:" he begged, "You know that I love you—it is my right to help you!"
She smiled and answered tenderly, "I think that you are he who has been promised me. Perhaps—the gods know—perhaps it is with and by you that my life is at last to be fulfilled; but go now—and rest: I will ask of the powers. Tell my story to your friends; they must know it and they will have to advise."
"Let me kiss you," Terrant begged, once more leaning close to her. Stesilea smiled sadly, "You may if you wish, Terrant; I would wish it too if I could feel; but now your kisses cannot bring joy to me and, I fear, not to you either for my body is cold. No,—it would be better not; only shall you kiss me when I can give you ecstasy."
The curtains gently fell into place before the sanctuary and Terrant staggered from the temple. Outside, in the cool, he rested for awhile to recover his composure; and the first glimmerings of dawn illuminated the eastern sky.
The light rapidly gained strength and Terrant wandered about aimlessly, endeavouring to collect his thoughts into some sort of order. He could remember almost every word of the story that Stesilea had told him; he could remember,—but were such things possible? And if they were not possible, what about Stesilea herself? So she was half human! And possibly could become truly herself,—her human self,—if someone—he himself—helped her in some manner that was dangerous! Of course he would help her,—if she would permit it! It was hard, impossible to understand. And he was to tell the major and funny old Jerks; and they would comprehend it all just about as much as he did; but anyway they were as much intrigued about Stesilea as he had ever been, and so would not laugh. And they would have to advise;—advise about what? Perhaps about his helping Stesilea: well, he could rely upon both of them to stand by him through thick and thin,—that was certain anyway.
Then he realized that he was near the swimming-bath and that nothing could freshen him and his mind better than a swim in cold water: and his mind, being wearied by the extravagant thoughts that led to nowhere, sank into a kind of numbed rest from which he made no effort to raise it.
Still in a state bordering on vacancy, he joined the others at breakfast and at once became the butt for Erskine's jests: noticing his careworn appearance, the latter facetiously remarked on the nocturnal habits of cats on tiles and recommended to Terrant the life and customs of respectably married men,—such as himself. But Terrant was not to be roused from his brooding abstraction, and Erskine gave up his attempts to lighten the atmosphere.
So, when Calyce left them, Simonds frankly asked if anything more had happened, and Terrant related fully the inconceivable history that he had been told. His hearers were dumbfounded and for fully a minute no comment was made; then Erskine, struggling with his reason, burst forth, "Good God! What a ghastly yarn! And my old guv'nor always said 'Never play with things you don't understand!' I mean, do you mean to say the poor girl's been knocking around for over two thousand years? And is neither dead nor alive? And a wonderful peach like her,—if she were really a girl! Good Lord, it isn't fair,—I'd do anything for her myself! But look here;—half a minute;—what about the cat?"
"What do you mean—'what about the cat?'" Terrant, whose nerves were sorely strained, took him up peevishly.
"Well; Stesilea is a sort of supernatural—a spirit or some such thing,—you know what I mean; all right then,—what about the cat;—is the cat one too? I mean, I've never heard of the ghost or spirit of a cat before!"
Terrant and Simonds looked at each other agape until the latter, pleased at the lighter turn that Erskine had given to the conversation and with a smile gradually spreading over his face, rejoined, "Congratulations, Jerks! I'm afraid it won't help us in the main question but nevertheless that is an interesting problem; I agree with you, the wandering spirit of a cat doesn't sound reasonable. But now I come to think of it—you should know more about the cat than any of us;—I take it, Terrant, the cat didn't enter into the story?"
Terrant, smiling wryly, shook his head, and Simonds concluded—"Well Jerks; you stroked the cat; did it feel like a cat?"
After pondering for a moment Erskine nodded decisively, "Yes, that cat was cat; it was warm and quite natural-like. But I always heard that cats' fur stood on end whenever a ghost was around;—well, one lives and learns!"
Terrant was again becoming decidedly ruffled and impatient; and, seeing this, Erskine continued, "Sorry, Terrant old man; but one really doesn't quite know where one is, does one? One can't make head or tail of it at all, can one? And, of course, one wouldn't really worry if one weren't—hmmm; but, by jove, she may sort of become human if something happens. Well, of course, she can count on me to do anything I can to help her: my old guv'nor always said 'Do anything you can to oblige a lady—within reason,' and the old boy knew a thing or two!"
Erskine's wild and inconsequent ramblings had certainly done a lot to draw Terrant from the mental morass in which he was floundering;—"Thank you very much, Jerks; you don't need to tell me you'd do anything to oblige a lady,—from past experiences of endeavours to placate irate mothers I know it but too well," he answered. Erskine showed signs of considerable embarrassment and muttered, "Don't mention it, old boy; don't mention it. My old guv'nor always said—" but here the major interrupted into what seemed about to degenerate into personalities;—"Terrant; did she say that you had been promised her?"
"Well, she said she thought that I was he."
"We have an amazing story to think over; and it looks as if there are trials ahead for one of us at any rate. Let us hope that all goes well; but we must remember that we are not our own masters;—there is the Raj! I will do anything I can—within" and smiling at Erskine, "and perhaps even without reason: and, for all his nonsense, we know that Jerks will do the same. Don't do anything, Terrant, without consulting me, for God alone knows what we are up against! I don't see the object of any hanky-panky, but we must consider everything calmly. Evidently this affair is by no means ended although we have learnt everything we came here for and are ready to return to India. I expect we shall soon hear that something is required of at least one of us; when that time comes we will see what we can do. Now Terrant, you look as if some sleep would do you no harm; Jerks can help me finish off a lot of notes for our report."
But Terrant refused to sleep, saying he was sure he would be unable so much as to close his eyes: he suggested that as, on the other hand, they now knew enough about the country and its resources, in addition to exactly what it was that the government of Saria desired, they should decide what recommendations they would place before their own government, and thus be in a position to give an answer to Stesilea and her council before their departure—which must be soon.
Simonds replied that really the solution of the whole question appeared very simple to him:—it was obvious that India would not extend her frontier beyond the present limits; also that it would be very unwise for Saria to extend her's towards India. Under present conditions Saria was in no particular danger,—notwithstanding the evident interest of Russia. As to the science of flying being discovered and perfected,—that might come in the future; time alone could show: and, while he himself could see no danger at all, it was quite possible that he was wrong;—he had heard of interesting experiments but they might continue for hundreds of years without getting any further. However;—perhaps there was the danger and perhaps Saria was right to take it into account and prepare against it. If flying ever did come to pass, Saria would be very valuable to India as a buffer state; and its surrounding mountains, which must average a height of about 18,000 feet above sea level, should prove a noteworthy defence.
He felt that his recommendation to India would be a close alliance and that assistance of every form desired should be freely given,—both towards defence and the development of resources.
If, in the future, flying became a factor in the question of defence then India must help to find the answer, for obviously it would never do to permit a great foreign power to be established in Saria:—the strategic importance of Saria was incalculable. "That will be my answer to Stesilea—or to the government of Saria, whichever way you care to put it—and that will be my recommendation to the government of India. We have finished our rough survey of the country and we have made sketch-maps: of course we know nothing about the extent of the surrounding mountains and the broken country approaching them,—such knowledge must await a full survey. We can now tell Xerres that we are ready to give an answer to the government and to start on our return journey.
"Now, as to our entanglements;—Jerks, according to the laws of this country, is a married man and I believe he considers himself so: but what is he going to do about it,—does he wish to bring Calyce back with us and have the matter legalized according to our law, or what?"
"I have discussed all that with Calyce and Xerres," Erskine answered cheerfully. "She won't go with us now,—I've got an idea she's been instructed not to! She hopes I shall be able to return here and I would certainly like to: if I can't, she says she will join me in India later. Xerres says that everything is all right and that our personal affairs can be arranged when our mission is finished. He has given me some form of certificate recording our marriage, and with the help of that I hope to be able to legalize it in England. That's all I know. But I'm certainly going to try to come back here:—as a matter of fact I think I'd make a very nice Resident Representative of the Raj, or Viceroy or something; or if you, major, have got a eye on that job for yourself, I hope you'll offer me the position of valet, or secretary, or high-executioner, or something. My old guv'nor always said 'If you can't get what you want one way, try another.' So Viceroy or valet would be all the same to me."
"Well Jerks, you're looking rather far ahead; but the important thing is you seem to have settled your immediate future in the most sensible manner, and I hope you and Calyce will soon find yourselves together again—and what we'll do without her I can't imagine: anyway we needn't worry about you any more.
"As for you, Terrant,—I'm afraid you're crying for the moon: but I don't understand, I don't understand at all; however we shall see: and I only hope that unhappiness is not to be your lot as the result of coming on this trip!"
"The Lord knows about me," said Terrant morosely, "I suppose it will all come out in the wash somehow. I expect I'll end up a well-fed and portly old bachelor, with my own particular chair in the club, and a confounded bore to all my friends."
"Well that's that," said Simonds, "I suppose Xerres will be round somewhen soon: I'll tell him, then, we are finished here and ready to start back;—and we'll have to push off pretty soon to get through the passes before winter sets in, or else wait till next year—and that wouldn't do at all."
"No;" Terrant answered, "there'd be no excuse for us not getting back this year. But talking of this flying business;—I believe it will come, and come suddenly, soon and in one day. After all, I gather they've known for years, more or less, how it should be done, but they've lacked the necessary power plant. These internal combustion engines they use in cars seem to be wonderful machines and they're improving them out of all recognition every year. Soon they'll probably have all the power they want in an engine about the size of a glass of beer, and then people will be flying and falling about in much the same way as they perform nowadays on bikes. And besides that,—if Stesilea thinks it's coming soon—well, I bet she's got jolly good reason for thinking so!
"However;—as you say, major, that's all in the future. In the meanwhile I think we are very lucky that Saria chose the Raj as ally and not some other people we know of: and I think our government will see the point quickly enough and will establish a commission here at once. No, Jerks;—I don't think they'll make you viceroy;—as your governor always said—'you can't make a silk purse out of a—'" but at this point Terrant was abruptly interrupted by a well-aimed slipper.
Xerres, as was expected, soon put in an appearance and said that he believed they wished to see him; this caused some surprise and Major Simonds asked, "Why, what makes you think so?" To which came the brief reply, "I was instructed last night that you would probably wish to see me during the morning; and so,—here I am."
After a few seconds Simonds acquiesced, "Well, as a matter of fact, we have just finished discussing all that we have seen and been told. We think that we have completed our work here and that we should start back to India as soon as possible. Also we are now prepared to inform your government of the decisions we have come to, and which we shall put before the government of India."
Xerres was obviously pleased and it was with a friendly smile that he bowed and announced, "It will be arranged that Stesilea and our government shall meet you two or three evenings hence, and they will be happy to hear your decision;—we feel sure that it will be what we desire. In the meanwhile we will commence making all the necessary arrangements for your journey."
"Thank you, Xerres; that will suit us splendidly," Simonds replied. "There is one other point:—you remember that the other day I asked you certain questions that you could only partially answer; there is another thing that perhaps you can explain to us;—a cat always seems to accompany Stesilea, and it seems to be just an ordinary cat; also one does not think of a cat being granted supernatural powers."
Xerres answered this with an assurance that diminished as he proceeded, "The cat is, as you think, just an ordinary one,—except in so far as it is of a special breeding. From the very beginning this breed has been continued and one of them has always been Stesilea's companion. I have heard that even when she moves about as a spirit and permits of herself being seen by human beings, the cat is seen with her; that is merely a manifestation of her power; perhaps she takes the spirit of the cat with her,—I do not know."
"Thank you," said Major Simonds with a shrug. "We thought something of that sort—but we don't profess to understand even what we think. Very well; we will spend the next few days in tidying up everything and in enjoying ourselves."
And those few days passed like a brightly-coloured dream that suddenly degenerated into a ghastly nightmare; events followed one another with ever increasing speed, with unexpected obstacles, with fears blended with hope, and with tragedy.
ALL was well until the night on which they met Stesilea and the representatives of the people of Saria.
On that evening they supped early, and Xerres came to fetch them. And so it was that, as the last glories of sunset faded from the golden dome, Xerres led them to the wide, open doors of the temple. But this time Calyce accompanied Erskine, clinging diffidently, but proudly, to his arm while she explained that she was now accepted as a Responsible Member of the community and had been ordered to attend the Assembly.
Clothed in diaphanous, black drapings embroidered with gold thread, and with a new dignity in her bearing, they were all struck afresh with her sweet beauty, and marvelled that they had not fully appreciated the classical purity of her features during the many days and weeks in which they had laughingly accepted her cheerful companionship.
Xerres explained that that night there would be present in the temple not only the college of priests and priestesses but also the Council, consisting of seven male and six female elders, and the "Responsible Members" of the State, to whose ranks Calyce had been promoted.
Lighting their tapers, they proceeded to the curtain, and then from the darkness of the domed roof reverberated the deep tones of the great bell, struck three times: Xerres told them that it was thus rung at the openings of all full councils, and that such were the tone and power of the sound that it could be heard for many miles around the city and sometimes even to the confines of the State.
While the air within the temple was still quivering with the last vibrations that seemed to be no longer sound, there came to them the soft rustling of the entry of the priests and priestesses behind them. As they had witnessed before, these formed up on either side of them; in front of them the two head priestesses and priest took their station, and then entered a great number of the populace, the "Responsible Members", all clad in embroidered and flowing black, who, Xerres told them, numbered approximately fifteen hundred men and women: each carried a lighted taper, so that a soft light illuminated all of the hushed crowd while a canopy of darkness was spread above them.
Then throughout the temple reigned a silence that was almost hypnotic, until suddenly a single stroke of the bell shattered the atmosphere into myriads of vibrant, crystalline atoms and set the taper lights flickering with its invisible waves.
Gently and softly rose the hymn to the glory of beauty, a perfect harmony that mounted gradually to triumph and then faded to stillness. Then, with a silken rustle, all the people seated themselves on the floor.
Silence again, a silence quivering with expectancy: and the soft curtains parted and mounted into the upper gloom.
By unseen arrangement the sanctuary was lighted from above, and the beams were concentrated upon Stesilea, who was already seated in her throne, radiant and perhaps unearthly in her beauty; almost dazzling were the golden coils of her hair, startling the violet-blue of her eyes; and the whiteness of her robes was matched by that of her breast and her shoulders and her arms.
Was there a faint tinge of colour in her cheeks? Perhaps; but not such as glowed in the cheeks of her people: but the even rise and fall of her breasts showed that she breathed.
Erskine glanced at his companions; in Terrant's eyes his very soul shone, and with clenched fists he seemed to be barely holding himself in restraint. Stesilea's gaze quickly met his and smiled a welcome; and the tenseness left him. At this moment he heard Simonds whispering: "My God; she is beautiful; never have I even dreamt of anyone so wonderful!"
And then she spoke, softly, but so clearly that every syllable penetrated to the farthest corner of the temple: "I have found that it is now necessary to take notice of the outside world: I foresee that in a few years our mountains will no longer prove to be an insuperable barrier,—for men will fly. Our prosperous and happy country will be a rich prize to any jealous or greedy neighbour.
"On two sides of our country are great Powers, and in other quarters are people who would be strong enough to oppress us. I therefore considered who might be our protectors from outside. I foresee that in one of the great nations complete and terrible changes will soon occur; that terror and death will sweep through it and through all countries with which it is concerned. Though the heart of the other great realm is far from here, yet an arm of its power reaches close to our borders, and the fear of its power surrounds us. I choose to seek help from this people.
"The strangers who have been with us these several weeks are representatives of that Power; they have examined the country and its resources, they have studied our people and their customs, and to-night they are ready to tell us the decision they have come to—the one that they will recommend to their government.
"I know that we must have help from outside, and I have chosen from whom to ask it. Your councillors acted on my wishes."
She ceased speaking; and a great hush enveloped the many people, while they absorbed and considered this action that broke the policy of absolute independence and shelter from outside affairs which had been maintained for tens of centuries.
At last slight sounds of movement and the sighing of relaxed strain filtered through the cloak of silence: Stesilea turned to Major Simonds and inclined her head to him.
He rose to his feet and made his reply, assisted by Xerres, who thenceforward interpreted his words sentence by sentence. In a few words he recounted how meagre but interesting information concerning Saria trickled through gradually, but steadily, to his government—the Raj of India, far out-flung colony of the Island Power so far away. How the government of India at last decided that these rumours should be seriously investigated, and instructed himself and his companions to attempt a visit to Saria.
How,—and here he hesitated for a moment and glanced smilingly at Stesilea,—how, with unobtrusive help emanating from Saria, his expedition succeeded in entering the country: how, during the last few months, he and his companions had, as far as lay in their power and means, surveyed the country and its frontiers, its resources and its people and their customs. "And now we are ready, and should very soon start on our return to India. I shall report fully on all that I have seen. My companions and I consider that Saria is very worthy of all and every assistance that my country can give, and I shall recommend that a small permanent commission shall be established here by my government to consider with you every step that should be taken for your defence and safety: and I shall recommend that these measures be carried out by, or with, the assistance of my country.
"And I wish to add, on behalf of my companions as well as myself, that your country and its customs are surely well worth great efforts to be held inviolate; also that the kindness and care that have been lavished on us will always remain to us a most happy memory."
A flutter, not of applause, but of approval, whispered through the assembly; then, when silence was once again complete, Stesilea gravely asked, "You approve?"
One of the thirteen members of the Council, a man perhaps past his prime but brisk with strength and decision, rose to his feet and turned to the massed Responsible Members behind him. With one accord they raised the lighted tapers in their hands, giving an impressive and at the same time joyous expression of agreement in the gloom of that great temple.
Turning then to the Council, he announced in tones full and strong, "The Responsible Members approve," and the Council in its turn raised their tapers aloft. The councillor now faced the throne and bowed deeply, then raising his taper, proclaimed: "Stesilea, your people approve: your Council approves: command!"
She raised her hand, "I am satisfied," she said. "I dismiss the Responsible Members and my priests and priestesses. My councillors and my chief advisers and the strangers, with Xerres, will remain so that I may give my orders and explain my wishes."
The great doors of the temple being opened, the entrance was invaded by a flood of brilliant moonlight, into which soon streamed the feeble glimmers of the tapers carried by the silent and orderly ranked members of the outgoing assembly. Gradually the temple darkened and hushed; one of the members of the Council collected and extinguished the tapers from each of those who remained, so that soon the vast hall was barely illuminated by the few hanging lights and the greater light of the sanctuary.
Under the guidance of the old head priest, Calchas, they all moved close to the steps to the throne: facing it sat the thirteen councillors, on Stesilea's right and facing inwards were the three chief advisers, and on her left Simonds, Terrant, Erskine and Xerres.
Stesilea spoke to them.
"Final preparations must be made at once for the departure of our friends to India. If you, Simonds, will instruct Xerres as to everything you require, it will be seen to. Have you sufficient porters? If not—we can find some more for you. Tell Xerres everything. All the men that you brought with you are fit and ready for the journey.
"Erskine,—I hear that you are leaving Calyce with us for the present, and that you hope to come back to her; otherwise she shall join you in India. I hope that you will return; but in any case we will care for her tenderly. We shall all anxiously await news from India, informing us of the decision that your government comes to, as well as of your safe arrival there.
"And now I have to tell you something that concerns you all, and particularly Terrant. All of you know—my history; how I came to be as I am. I think that you, our visitors, find the story hard to understand and well-nigh incredible, but it really is susceptible to proof; the facts of the terrible fate that was imposed upon me are all recorded in our written history; in generation after generation and century after century the story of the building and maintenance of this my temple and of the orders that I have given in it are noted, together with the progress of our country: my chief priests and councils have conferred with me regularly and—I am always here.
"All my people know that my father expressly stated that a day would come when I should be released from my present state and be permitted to fulfil my life as a natural human being; and that when that time came I would have foreknowledge of it and of what measures must be taken and risks run.
"My time has come!"
Her last words were uttered with greater force than any that she had previously spoken: she always spoke quietly and gently, as stating incontestable facts; her most unexpected commands were given in this same manner.
Her priests and council were first startled by the tone of her voice, then, as the significance of her statement became clear, a murmur of barely subdued gasps escaped them. First their expressions showed amazement and pleasure, but, as they pondered, this gradually gave place to doubt.
Calchas, the chief adviser, rose to his feet: "Stesilea, are you sure?" he almost stuttered. "This is of untold importance to Saria!"
"My time has come; I know it!" Stesilea answered gently. "I know, too, how it affects Saria. Perhaps, having now arranged to communicate with the outside world, my usefulness in this condition is consummated: the gods have used me and can now lay aside their instrument,—I do not know the inner workings of the minds of the gods. My time has come; and you, Terrant, can be the tool to effect my release; and you, Calchas, are to be the hand to guide and to actuate that tool!
"But, Terrant, there are risks!"
"Gladly will I take any risk, Stesilea, if it is for you!" Terrant offered eagerly. And Simonds and Erskine found themselves smiling with Stesilea, for, in his agitation, Terrant had spoken those few words in a confused jumble of English, Pushtu and Greek.
"Hear first what those risks are," Stesilea continued. "You know how, in helping my father in his experiments, my soul was lost and exiled; and how another occupied my body for a time. It has been shown to me that to make it possible for my spirit to re-occupy my body fully, and in order that I may complete my life on earth, another soul must be sent to find me in the outer void, perhaps there to wrestle with evil spirits; and having conquered them and found me, it must lead me back and help me to the complete control of this my earthly body.
"You, Terrant, are given to me to attempt the passage of this untrodden path. If you fail I think that we shall both be lost, exiled—but I do not know: perhaps you will meet with a fate worse than mine, for you will be undertaking this deed, that the gods scarcely allow, knowingly and with your eyes open.
"But if you are sufficiently steadfast, if you go forth strong in your will to release me, I know that we shall both return to complete our lot. I know that you are permitted to help me, but I cannot, may not ask you to do so."
Terrant was about to answer at once; he had risen and took one step towards her. But Stesilea raised her hand: "No," she adjured him. "No, do not answer yet. You must consider in your heart and spirit and mind. You must consider the risk. You shall consult with your friends."
Terrant shrugged his shoulders; it was obvious that his mind was already made up, but he turned inquiringly to Major Simonds and caught his eyes. They gazed fixedly at each other for a few seconds and then, in his turn, Simonds shrugged his shoulders; drily, he said: "I don't see any use in arguing with you. I think it would be a waste of time; from your point of view, perhaps you are right—that remains to be seen. As your commanding officer I expect I ought to forbid you to do this;" he paused and amusedly watched the grim expression spreading over Terrant's face; "but you have a vast amount of my sympathy," and here he transferred his gaze to Stesilea, sitting motionless, her mind seemingly far away, traversing the unimaginable spaces of the spirit world; "on the other hand, I can perhaps square my conscience by thinking that you are taking this grave step for diplomatic reasons of which I, and the government, can but approve.
"I think that the final decision must come from your own soul."
Though no earthly ears besides Terrant's and Erskine's could by any possibility have heard these words, so low were they spoken, at this moment Stesilea's eyes met those of Major Simonds—and held them. She smiled with her lips and with her eyes; and the major shivered slightly, for in those eyes he saw a soul that was great and beautiful, and that was surely in bondage.
Terrant in the meanwhile had turned to Erskine: "Well, Jerks; you're in on this; I want your opinion too,—your honest opinion!"
Erskine had evidently been sunk in a reverie, but came back to the present with a show of eye-blinking and head-shaking. "Thanks, old man: but I don't see that my opinion can matter: anyway—if I were you I'd go ahead, full out: I only wish I could help you—I will if I can in any way. The whole thing sounds to me pretty grim and ghastly, but—I don't mean to be sloppy, you know, what I mean—but, well, my thoughts will be with you:" then grinning, and relieving a tension that was becoming over-oppressive, "and, by the way,—if in your wanderings you can find out from some canny spirit next year's Derby winner, I wish you'd pass me the tip."
"Silly old ass!" said Terrant affectionately: and taking a step towards the throne, in tones just loud enough to be heard by all: "Yes. I am ready!"
During this time the chief advisers and the council had been conferring. All seemed to be in a state of indecision and nervousness except Calchas, who now determined faced Stesilea, saying, "I cannot do this; I do not think it would be for the good of Saria. We shall lose our spiritual advice at a time that you yourself say is critical. No—this cannot be done now!"
For thirty pregnant seconds Stesilea regarded him sternly, her eyes darkening with anger: it seemed that the very air that they breathed was burnt, used up by some all-pervading and terrible power: it was an intense relief to everyone when at last she calmly spoke: "And you, Athenais and Nausicaa; and you, my council, what do you think? Speak!"
Athenais rose and with a voice that trembled slightly answered: "Nausicaa and I agree with Calchas in so far as to fear that this may be an inopportune moment to effect so great a change. But we think that if now is truly your time, we have not the right to deny you. Tell us, Stesilea;—if perchance you have made a mistake, and this man Terrant is not the man chosen by the gods, what will happen?"
Stesilea smiled to Athenais and turned to her council. "And you, Calanus, are you all agreed?"
Calanus answered: "Yes, Stesilea; we are agreed. We were startled at what you told us, and the same fear for Saria overcame us at first. But we remember that you have never advised your country ill. The gods have doubtless told you that now is your time, and it is your will that this thing should be done now. We are content."
Long ere this the anger had faded from Stesilea's eyes. She now softly replied to Athenais' question, "I have not made a mistake, in such a matter I could not do so. I cannot answer what would happen to this man if he were not the man; but I would not permit him to face the anger of the gods." And her eyes lingered gently, nay, caressingly, on those of Terrant.
"And now, Calchas, what say you?"
Calchas looked round at each in turn;—at Terrant and his friends, at the members of the council and at his fellow chief advisers. Clearly opinion was firmly against him. He answered, "Stesilea, I am still against this. For centuries, since the time of Alexander of Macedon, Saria has been happy and prosperous; and never more so than now. And now there is to be a change, and who can foresee with what result? You say that the State will soon be in danger, you arrange for a complete reversal of our policy of isolation, and, at the same time you jeopardize our main strength, your watchful care over and advice to us. I cannot agree, but you command and I cannot refuse"—and he glanced round angrily at the council and the two chief priestesses—"and these others submit. I will carry out your commands; but I do not agree."
Stesilea rose to her feet. "I am sorry, Calchas, that your mind is not with us, but what the gods command that must we all do. To-morrow we will meet here half an hour before sunset. Athenais and Nausicaa, come with me now; I will instruct you. Calchas, you will instruct and prepare the man. Terrant, the gods being willing, I shall soon have more to say to you: may they give you strength."
Stesilea descended the steps from her throne and, followed by Athenais and Nausicaa, passed from the sanctuary to the inner chambers beyond. Then the council and Xerres wended their way through the great doors, leaving them alone with Calchas, who stood with clenched hands, scowling after Stesilea, anger glowing in his deep-set eyes.
At last he turned abruptly to Major Simonds. "You should not permit this," he stormed, and, to their surprise, in perfect English; then, nodding towards Terrant, went on: "Of course, he is a fool. Well, I suppose we shall all be here to-morrow evening and thus shall be as great fools as he. Terrant, you come with me!" and he stalked out, followed by Terrant, who bore himself rather like a schoolboy who has been found out and expects condign punishment.
"Oh, Lord!" said Erskine. "What a party! Thank heavens I'm not in poor old Terrant's shoes; I'm a respectable married man, I am,—and I hope I shan't get socks for being out so late! I say, major, I'm not very fond of that fella' Calchas; he's got a dirty look in his eye. I suppose he won't get up to any monkey tricks?"
Major Simonds looked very grave: with a sigh, he replied: "I don't like it at all, Jerks: but what is one to do? It would have been foolish and, I think, useless of me to forbid Terrant to take part in this. And how it's all going to end, God alone knows. And as if the business itself were not bad enough,—I agree with you,—I don't like Calchas, and I don't trust him an inch. Well, it's no use crying before the milk is spilt; we'd better turn in. I expect we shall need some sleep before we've done."
And with grave forebodings they in turn made their way through a glorious night of full moon back to their quarters. As they expected, Terrant was not there and, at parting for the night, Erskine remarked, "Poor old Terrant, I suppose he's having a cheery time being 'prepared'; what does that mean, a jolly good branding on the blunt end, or what?"
The next day passed slowly and anxiously. During the morning Simonds and Erskine were thankful for an interlude from depressing thoughts afforded by a visit from Hernam Singh who came to discuss details of their return journey.
Now Terrant had taken practically entire charge of the subordinate members of the expedition and of all arrangements to do with it: so the major said he was down with a slight attack of fever and that, therefore, he himself and Erskine would go through the lists of stores required and of equipment that needed repair or replacing.
But before leaving them Hernam Singh startled them by saying, "Sahib, there is a rumour in the bazaar that she whom they call Stesilea, and whom we heard of as a goddess, has departed and that the Captain sahib," he meant Terrant, "has gone with her, and it is said that they have passed over to the spirit world! Major sahib, tell me, have you ever seen this Stesilea and what is she? Just an ordinary woman? Or is she a statue by means of which the priests frighten the people?"
These were difficult questions to answer but Simonds quickly realized that it would not be advisable to leave them unanswered, so he replied, "Oh Hernam Singh, you know what bazaar rumours are. The Captain sahib has not passed over, and we saw Stesilea last night. As to what she is,—she is certainly not just a statue and she is not an ordinary woman. She is very beautiful and very, very wise, and I think she is perhaps some great mahatma.
"She has given orders that we are to be provided with anything we may require, so see that we have full supplies, and if necessary we can have extra porters. She agrees too with us that we should start back to India in two or three days; so, waste no time, Hernam Singh, and do not listen to wild bazaar talk,—you know that the ears of an ass are filled with its own braying."
"Good, sahib, I will see that the porters do not fill themselves with the chaff of foolishness and relieve their indigestion by idle chatter. Everything shall be prepared and ready for our departure by to-morrow night. And I trust that the Captain sahib will soon be recovered."
Hernam Singh saluted and went out, leaving the major and Erskine staring at each other in some dismay, which Simonds expressed by muttering, "Hmmm—it seems that rumours with some foundation in fact start as easily and as quickly here as in India. I wonder who has let some whisper escape. Besides ourselves there are only seventeen people who know what took place last night,—Xerres, the three chief advisers and the thirteen of the council,—and they are all sworn to secrecy about everything that takes place at their consultations. I don't like it at all, but what can we do? Nothing!"
"Certainly somebody must have said something," Erskine replied, and then with a shrug, "I suppose probably one of those lady councillors mentioned a few little tit-bits,—under a pledge of deepest secrecy, be it said,—over a cup of tea with her cook when she got home last night."
"Perhaps, Jerks, perhaps. But what a cynic we are becoming; is this the result of becoming a 'respectable married man'?"
Erskine had the decency to colour, and then suddenly suggested, "As a matter of fact, Major, I really wonder if that old devil Calchas is deliberately putting some rotten rumour around. I don't like his fishy eye!"
"Oh, I shouldn't think he'd dare do that; unless—unless—; but it's no use imagining trouble. Let's forget it!" and Simonds turned back to the report on which he had been working when Hernam Singh disturbed them.
But Erskine was not satisfied: after some minutes of deep cogitation he aroused Simonds from his work,—"Sorry, Major, to disturb you, but talking of that swivel-eyed perisher, Calchas;—we both feel uneasy about him and, for all we know, he may be starting some cheery little revolution; perhaps he wants to become king, like his forebears! Xerres has always seemed to me to be an excellent fellow; one feels that one knows where one is with him: don't you think that we could work the conversation round so that we could drop a hint about what we've heard?"
"Not a bad idea, Jerks. As you say, Xerres seems to be dead straight; I like him too. Yes, I think we'll broach the subject; but we'll try and put it in such a way that we don't appear to have suspicions unless he shows interest. Damn that man Calchas; the more I think of him the less I like him, and the more strongly I feel that he is up to no good!"
THEY watched Xerres crossing the garden towards their quarters. He looked as tired as they felt, though he entered the room with a smile of greeting which nevertheless showed elements of anxiety.
At once he mentioned the subject that was most in their thoughts, and informed them that Terrant had passed a good night and was mentally and physically fit for the ordeal to which he would be subjected later.
Then he spoke of the few arrangements that had been made on their behalf, and recommended a serious siesta and a bathe before a very early but substantial supper: he himself would join them in good time.
He went on to say that the preparations were well advanced for their return journey, and this provided Major Simonds with his cue. "Oh yes, thank you very much, Xerres. As a matter of fact we had heard that everything would be ready to-morrow; Hernam Singh came round to see us; he had come across some extraordinary rumour to the effect that Captain Terrant was dead or something—"
"What?" interrupted Xerres sharply, "I am sorry, Major sahib, but what was that?"
"Oh, Hernam Singh heard some bazaar rumour that the Captain sahib had died—or passed over, I think he said, and I believe he said that the same thing had happened to Stesilea. Of course we soon disabused his mind about that!"
Xerres turned very grave and abstracted. Deep in thought, his eyes flickered from Simonds to Erskine and to various points about the room; he moved his hands about and fingered parts of his clothing: in every gesture he showed deepest anxiety and indecision. At last he looked Simonds straight in the eye and inquired, "Major Simonds sahib, did Hernam Singh say anything else?"
"No, I don't think he said anything else:—as far as I can remember, he said the rumour was that Stesilea had passed over to the spirit world and that the Captain sahib had gone with her. I must admit that we were very surprised to hear that such a rumour had got about."
Xerres' agitation was growing now in intensity, but clearly he had made up his mind to take the others completely into his confidence. He moved closer to them and the major indicated a chair. Then, lowering his voice and leaning towards them, he whispered, "Major sahib; there should be no such rumour as this: no one should know what took place last night or what proposals were made or anything about them. Someone who was there must have deliberately started this rumour—and for some purpose! Major sahib, I don't like this; I fear there is treachery!"
"And that is exactly what Erskine sahib and I had begun to fear," Simonds replied earnestly. "Xerres, we feel that we can trust you," Xerres nodded, and so steadfast were his eyes that Simonds lost every trace of doubt; concealment, he decided, was no longer necessary or advisable. He went on, "Xerres, we do not trust Calchas!"
Xerres again nodded. "That is my fear, sahib. Calchas' power is so great,—while Stesilea is in the other world. Sahib, I thank the gods that you trusted me sufficiently to tell me. I will do what I can to be prepared,—and I think that I can circumvent Calchas,—but time is very short. I trust Athenais and Nausicaa but they are with Stesilea and cannot under any circumstances be approached; but I think I shall be able to warn them this evening. Calchas must be mad; he can do great harm, but I do not think he can possibly achieve his wish—now that I am warned."
"But," said Erskine, "what do you think his game is? I mean, what do you think he intends to try to do; start a revolution?"
Xerres smiled faintly. "No, and yes, sahib. I do not think he intends to stir up the people, but I think that perhaps to-night he will partially disobey Stesilea's commands, and I think that he hopes to usurp the power that Stesilea holds. I thank the gods that I am not without knowledge and some power myself!"
Beyond this Xerres would say nothing. He implied that it would be no use to explain things further, as the sahibs were too ignorant to understand. So they were left to continue the day immersed in still deeper anxieties and suppositions. They felt, however, that Xerres was working in the same cause about which they themselves were consumed with anxiety; and their trust in him and his abilities was strong.
The day slowly drew towards its close: Simonds and Erskine followed Xerres' advice and encountered no difficulty in sleeping soundly during the afternoon; and after a bathe in the marble swimming bath it was with a very sound appetite that they tackled an early supper.
They were ready in their ceremonial robes when Xerres called for them, and without further mention of serious subjects they accompanied him to the temple. They could discern unmistakable anxiety in his expression, but equally marked was his bearing of cool determination, so that they felt that if a crisis was to occur he would surely meet it in the best possible manner.
The golden dome of the temple seemed to glitter harshly in the light of the sun that was far down towards the horizon but had not yet reached the point where all its strength would be expended in creating colour, and Erskine shuddered involuntarily as his eyes sought to penetrate the black gloom in the temple that, to his heightened imagination, seemed almost to roll out in waves through the open doors.
They entered. And as their eyes became accustomed to the light from the sanctuary, the curtains of which were raised, they saw that the Councillors were already there, grouped near to the steps of the throne.
Xerres led them briskly to the position they had occupied the night before, and they found themselves facing two sets of trestles, on one of which was placed a stretcher; somehow these gave Erskine the idea of a field dressing station, and again he shivered and almost looked for the accompanying table littered with surgical instruments.
While Xerres was carrying on a whispered conversation with Calanus, a slight sound drew their attention to the doors, and Calchas entered accompanied by Terrant.
They themselves and the council and Calchas were, as previously, robed in black embroidered with gold, but Terrant was in unrelieved white. And then Erskine could no longer bear the silence; with a catch in his breath he turned and whispered, "What a ghastly show, Major: everything I see makes me think of operating theatres, and here comes Terrant wrapped up, all ready, in his winding-sheet. We only want somebody to strike up Chopin's dead march for me to burst into tears."
"Hold on, old boy," Simonds encouraged him, "it's only your imagination working overtime: you'll be alright as soon as things really begin to happen. Terrant looks fit enough anyway!"
Terrant and Calchas had arrived, facing them across the trestles, and the former nodded to them alertly;—he certainly looked in perfect health and quite unperturbed. His appearance reassured and steadied Erskine, and it was with a short giggle that he muttered, "Yes, he looks in good order; perhaps they didn't brand him after all!"
But now Calanus went and closed the doors, and, almost at the same moment the curtains beyond the sanctuary folded apart, and the two chief priestesses appeared carrying a stretcher on which lay a form covered with a light veil. Gently they advanced and placed the stretcher on the unoccupied trestles, and gently they turned back the veil.
Stesilea lay there, marble-white and motionless and with eyes closed. Like Terrant she was draped in white, innocent of any adornment; but her robes were scarcely as white as she herself. Not a tinge of colour showed even in her lips, no movement of breathing stirred her bosom. Surely this was the Marble Goddess they had heard of,—something inanimate, but gloriously fashioned and crowned with golden masses of hair.
The colour slowly drained from Terrant's cheeks; and Erskine found himself gripping Simonds' arm while the thought raced through his mind that Stesilea had after all "passed over".
But without delay, or haste, Athenais and Nausicaa had stationed themselves at Stesilea's head, and Calchas led Terrant to the vacant stretcher beside her.
Terrant laid himself on the stretcher and, composing his hands on his breast, closed his eyes.
Xerres in the meanwhile had silently crept behind the two priestesses and whispered a few words to them. Simonds and Erskine who were watching saw a look of intense alarm spread over their faces; but they quickly regained their coolness and, separating slightly, allowed him to edge forward between them so that, stooping, his face appeared between their elbows. His eves were fixed on Stesilea's face and his lips commenced to move silently.
Calchas stood over Terrant, by his shoulders; he bent and whispered to him, and Terrant opened his eyes and gazed at a burnished metal plaque that was behind and above him in the sanctuary.
They could see that Calchas' eyes were undeviatingly fixed on Terrant's, his lips set in a straight line, his face uncompromisingly stern.
Looking again at Xerres, they saw his lips muttering,—silently, continuously muttering; his eyes were now glassy, and stonily fixed on Stesilea; beads of sweat formed on his forehead and trickled down his face.
It was impossible not to feel, and to be strung almost to breaking point, by the tension and striving that informed the very ether, and set their nerves tingling.
Suddenly Xerres relaxed, his lips stopped moving and his eyes closed: he remained thus for fully half a minute, then opening his eyes, straightened himself; and in his eyes triumph glowed. Two or three words he whispered to Athenais, he nodded briefly to Calanus; and, though they knew nothing, Simonds and Erskine drew encouragement from the relief depicted on the faces of the others.
They saw now that Terrant's eyes were again closed and that he was breathing as if asleep: Calchas passed his hands gently up and down over his face and then stooped and whispered into his ear. And as this whispering continued Terrant's limbs, his features, his very hair seemed to become set and fixed; the colour drained from his face until his lips even were like unto Stesilea's.
Calchas straightened himself and, gazing at Terrant, his features relaxed. Then turning to the council he said, "It is done!" He moved round to the other stretcher and stood at Stesilea's feet, facing towards the two priestesses. Once again his face took its rapt expression and his eyes, seeming to glow with internal fires, were fixed on Stesilea's face; like Xerres, his lips moved in silent words. Athenais and Nausicaa glanced briefly at each other, and a look of understanding passed between them.
Behind them, Simonds and Erskine heard Xerres sighing as if he were releasing a long-held breath, and then a triumphant whisper—"I was right!"
But Athenais spoke;—"What are you doing, Calchas?" she asked sharply.
For fully a minute he gave no reply but maintained his fixed concentration on Stesilea and his mutterings: then looking up, "I am warning her that he has been sent on his way; so that she may be prepared," and his smile resembled a sneer.
And now Athenais glanced first at Xerres, who smiled disdainfully, and at Calanus and the council, who all bore expressions of horror.
The minutes passed; nobody stirred, they seemed even scarcely to breathe; and the silence weighed intolerably.
Then it seemed that a complacent smile wreathed the lips of Calchas, but this he subdued, and he looked at Athenais questioningly: and she, raising her eyes from Stesilea's face, met the question and slowly shook her head: she turned, seemingly to Nausicaa, but really she cast her eyes on Xerres; and now it was she who questioned: Xerres nodded reassuringly, and then darted a look of hatred towards Calchas.
And Calchas stood at his ease, smiling smugly as one who has successfully accomplished a great work.
But suddenly Nausicaa stooped and, looking up at Athenais, she too smiled, and then it could be seen by all, that colour was gently infusing Stesilea's lips.
And Calchas betrayed himself.
A sharp syllable escaped his lips; he leant forward, his eyes starting from his head; his hands were clenched. Then, with a groan, he staggered back; his face became grey and haggard. Calanus sprang to his side and supported him,—but he gripped him very firmly by shoulder and arm.
Stesilea's eyes opened.
Aided by Athenais and Nausicaa she sat up. Straightway pointing at him, she said, "Calchas, this time you have overstepped, now you are undone! The punishment for the first traitor in Saria shall be severe! Leave him, Calanus, he cannot move," and turning she went on, "Thank you, Xerres. Your warning came just in time; I felt his wicked commands, but he was too late,—I was armed ready,—with greater power."
Silence fell: Calchas, pale now as his victim Terrant, stood motionless where Calanus had left him. His eyes only seemed to live, and they glared with hate and frustrated evil.
But Stesilea was leaning over Terrant, and pity was in the eyes that caressed him. Leaning thus she again addressed Calchas, "And so you have done this heartless, this evil thing: you have sent him to the outer void to meet, with his helpless soul, the horrors that are there. Calchas,—he shall return; but it were better for you that you should bring him back now!" Rising from the stretcher, she approached him,—"You may speak: your traitorous scheme has failed: will you do this?"
Calchas showed no compunction, only rage: like a baited cat he spat in reply, "I will not bring him back," and with a sneer, "You are all-powerful, Stesilea; bring him back yourself—if you can: your threat of punishment does not frighten me!"
Calmly, unhurriedly Stesilea answered his bravado. "I will give you time to consider," and again she pointed at his face, her eyes cold and deadly as tempered steel.
Calchas shuddered and quivered; his skin seemed to shrivel on his bones; for a moment his eyes expressed agony, then dulled—like frosted glass; and thereafter there was no life in him.
"Take him to the cell of punishment!" she commanded. Xerres and two men of the council approached and lifted this stricken image of Calchas. Like an inanimate log of wood they bore him away to the side of the temple: they actuated some mechanism and a door swung open, disclosing a stone cell scarcely larger than a coffin; and in this they planted the rigid body.
Silently and ponderously the door swung-to and hid its prisoner.
Approaching Terrant, she gazed once more at his dead face and covered it with a fold of his robe; then she mounted the steps to her throne.
For awhile she remained deep in thought; but Simonds, on Xerres' return, could no longer contain himself, "Is the Captain sahib dead?" he asked miserably.
Xerres was about to reply, but Stesilea answered for him;—"No; he is not really dead; but he is in like case to myself when my father sent me away: but I have set up barriers so that no wandering spirit can occupy his body.
"I can—and shall, if necessary—find his soul and bring him back; but this is very difficult,—for where in the outer void to find him? And who can tell how long it would take me to find him? I pray the gods that this may not be necessary, that they may soften Calchas' heart and that he will consent to bring him back; for he, having sent him, can order him to return; and no matter where the soul may be, it will hear the command and obey.
"Xerres, how came it that you knew Calchas' intention and so warned me?"
Xerres related the rumour he had heard through Major Simonds and Hernam Singh; how he had had time to trace the rumour and found that Calchas was the source—as he had feared. How, at once, he had suspected what was Calchas' intention and so had taken the easy step of warning Stesilea,—though he could not save Terrant. And, finally, how he had found the council to be loyal, as also Athenais and Nausicaa.
Stesilea raised her voice in praise, "Now I thank the gods that they in their wisdom ordered me to make you, Xerres, the guide to these strangers; you who are instructed in the great secrets. And I thank the gods that we had but one traitor to contend with!
"Xerres, your work for the strangers, our friends,—and in this cause,—is now finished. Xerres is from now on chief priest and my chief adviser!"
Xerres folded his hands on his breast and bowed his head. Athenais and Nausicaa advanced, one to each side of him, and each taking a hand, led him to the position of Stesilea's chief adviser at her right.
Stesilea spoke;—"Calchas sent Terrant away without any compunction, and now he is furious with rage and disappointment because his plan was frustrated; so I fear that there is not the smallest hope that he will consent—now;—however I will order him again before we part; but let me reassure you,—it is certain that he will consent soon, for, although he does not yet realize it, mortal mind cannot long withstand the trials to which he will be subjected.
"But you, Simonds and Erskine, you must return to India at once;—the time you will have before the great snows is drawing short: you must leave your friend with me,—he will be well guarded and cared for. I foresee that soon he will return to us;—you shall know when this happens.
"And I think that after the lapse of some months both of you will come back here, and that then will be accomplished that which should have taken place this night.
"The gods have willed, and that which they will—is!
"To-morrow afternoon you must proceed to the entrance to Saria and thence, on the next day, make your way with all haste; waste no time till you have passed the high passes, for the door will be barely ajar and will close after you,—snow is at hand.
"Fear not; we shall all meet again!
"Xerres, I will speak to Calchas."
She followed him to the cell, and the door, opening, exposed its secret. Standing before Calchas she pointed;—and life returned to his eyes.
"Have you considered?" she demanded.
"I have naught to consider," Calchas replied stonily.
"Then," said Stesilea in icy tones, and very slowly, "I—send you to the outer void, and I call upon the spirits of evil to receive you and to torment you in the uttermost depths of hell. And I call upon the gods that no mercy be shown you. Now go!" and the door swung-to as his soul departed to its fate.
THEY found their way back to their quarters alone.
Before their going, the council had been dismissed, and their last sight of Stesilea had been as they emerged through the doors and greedily inhaled the fresh, cool air of the night. Athenais and Nausicaa were evidently about to bear away the piteous, still form that was Terrant; Terrant whom, twenty-four hours before, they had seen vibrant with life and determination, their friend, and now—a lifeless body that was not dead.
Stesilea was bending over him, supremely beautiful, the very Madonna of men's thoughts.
But few more words had she spoken to them, and those of encouragement. She assured them that all would be well; that their friend would be returned to them, even as he was a few short hours ago; for, with the help of the gods, she would be able to guard him from evil, far and hidden though his soul might be.
And she promised that, though they might not know it, she would often be near them to help and advise their inner consciousness, and that when Terrant was released they should be informed.
And so she bade them good-bye.
When they returned to their rooms, dejected, half stunned and wholly confused, they were met by a very gentle Calyce whose sympathetic solicitude did much to help them to regain their poise: she had been informed of what had occurred by one of the council whom, so she told them, Stesilea had sent; and now she had some coffee ready.
She, too, earnestly reassured them, "Stesilea has said that all will be well, and Stesilea speaks the will of the gods. Also she says that both of you will return here within a year, and Stesilea has never promised anything that has not come to pass." And with a smile to Erskine she continued, "And I shall await your coming eagerly, for I shall have something to show you!"
Erskine glanced at her inquiringly for a moment and then turned a fiery red;—"Good God! Really? Great Scott, who would have thought it?" he gibbered, "I wonder if I had better put his name down for Winchester as soon as we get back to India?"
Simonds smiled benevolently, "I shall look forward to congratulating you on our return here—if we do return; or on some other occasion as the case may be. But before you take such definite steps for the boy's education would it not be as well to ascertain if it's a girl? She might not thank you for sending her to a public school—though I myself would think you quite capable of doing it!" and with a chuckle that might almost have been called impish he patted Calyce on the shoulders, and saluted her lips with a paternal kiss.
This interlude recalled them to a normal state of mind and by mutual, though silent, consent they avoided all reference to the catastrophe of the evening.
Calyce said she had a message for them,—that their party would be ready to start one hour after dawn, so, before retiring for the night, they confined themselves to the discussion of details to do with the journey.
And with the first glimmerings of dawn their Indian servants appeared to pack their personal belongings.
Silently they partook of their breakfast, for both were fully occupied with thoughts;—their coming departure, lacking the most reliable member of the party and a gnawing anxiety for his safety; the happy and interesting months they had spent amongst this prosperous and contented people in their "Happy Valley"; Stesilea—how impossible to believe her strange story and how impossible not to.
And for Erskine,—Calyce; what a cheery companion what a lovable, perfect little wife! and even at this unearthly hour of the day how very good to look upon; and, good heavens, what a thought!—to find oneself a hoary old father the next time one saw her; and the darling certainly looked sad at his going, strive though she might to conceal it; and for a few moments, until forced to think of other things, Erskine was a very unhappy young man.
But fortunately their thoughts, tending more and more towards the mournful, were abruptly terminated by the appearance of Xerres, come to escort them to the parade ground, where their party was ready to start.
With a last glance round the rooms wherein they had rested, while events came to pass that seemed likely to bring such great changes to their future, and with Calyce clinging to Erskine's arm, they accompanied Xerres through the garden. Long they looked at the temple and those great doors firmly closed now and, arrived at the entrance gateway, turned for a last impression of the golden dome, gleaming ruddy in the rays of the just risen sun.
Arrived at the parade ground, they were surprised to see a brigade drawn up facing the members of their expedition, and a concourse of towns-folk: smartly the troops presented arms in a general salute.
Major Simonds asked Xerres, "Is this for us?"
Xerres then handed first to Simonds and then to Erskine, a folded parchment, saying, "Sahib, Stesilea, the council and the people of Saria beg you honour them by the acceptance of a commission as General in their army," and, likewise, to Erskine a commission as lieutenant-colonel.
Having saluted Xerres in acceptance, and with a few words of thanks and appreciation, they inspected one of the battalions drawn up in their honour.
Hernam Singh having saluted Simonds and reported "All present and correct", they shook hands and bade Xerres farewell: the latter amplified his words of good wishes, saying, "I myself and all the people of Saria will be glad to see you return here soon. And Stesilea ordered me to say to you 'Be of good cheer.' Twenty men of one of these battalions will escort and assist you to our outer borders. And now, farewell."
And so they set out on their long trek. Quickly they passed through the garden embowered suburbs of the city; thence through the tilled and cultivated lands, now ready for harvesting, towards the frowning wall of mountains. In the early afternoon they reached the spot where, on their arrival, their bandages had been first removed from their eyes; and not till then did they halt in their rapid march in order to eat a hurried meal.
Here it was that they got their last view of the city, its white buildings shimmering amongst their sheltering trees and crowned with the blazing gold of the temple dome.
Thence they entered a deep gully, cool and heavily shaded by trees, and soon came to the narrow entrance of a cave that burrowed into the gaunt side of a mountain.
Naturally enough the passage through the mountain range that followed was of greatest interest,—for this time their eyes were not covered. In the spacious cave that they entered they found in readiness a stack of resinous wood to be used as torches: they themselves, as well as their escort, collecting as many as they could conveniently carry, lit one each and, with the officer of the party, led the way.
They followed a seemingly endless passage some twenty feet high and wide enough for ten men to walk abreast. Now and then there occurred a slight bend, but for the most part the way was nearly straight: at one spot, however, they turned out of the main way through a narrow opening to the left and nearly at right angles, and later again to the right; then they emerged again into the broad, lofty passage that disappeared into the darkness to their right as well as to the left. Here the officer told them to look back; the opening through which they had debouched was completely hidden by an overlapping wall of rock, while the broad passage continued in the direction whence they had come: "That" he said, "is a false way: soon one arrives at a wide stream, flowing so rapidly that no one can pass over it; we once tried to cross in a boat but neither the boat nor the three men in it were ever seen again."
"I suppose all this passage is the course of an old river?" inquired Simonds, glancing at the smooth walls and roof.
"We do not know, but we think so: we think that probably this was once the outlet from the lake that we shall soon come to. Now it passes out through another tunnel, and probably the river down there is its continuation."
And soon they came to the lake: the passage, making a turn, suddenly opened out into a vast cavern: the roof could not be seen and the walls disappeared into the impenetrable darkness.
From a narrow platform the whole party embarked in barges that were tethered there in readiness, and they paddled out diagonally across the smooth, obsidian-like water.
It was an eerie crossing; the light of the torches glittered and threw grotesque shadows on the dark mirror of the water, and they in their boats seemed to tear a way through a dense blanket of blackness.
Erskine remarked: "Now I know what we shall feel like when we take our trip with friend Charon. I must say it wouldn't have amused me in the slightest to have been on the first raft that ever explored this nightmare of a place," and his voice sounded but as a whisper, lost in the thick oppressiveness that enveloped them.
In a few minutes they suddenly bumped against a low wall of rock that scarcely projected above the water level on the farther side: here the main wall of the cavern did not closely approach the water, but left a wide platform that could hardly be seen. Quickly the boats were made fast and the party disembarked: and then followed a long march through that interminable tunnel.
The passage ended. A blank wall of rock faced them and enclosed them on either side. For a moment the officer watched their surprise,—and smiled, gleaning the meaning from his tone when Erskine said in English: "Good Lord, major, we've taken the wrong turning: I hope to heaven this bird can find the way out, otherwise we may find Charon waiting for us back there!"
But Simonds replied mildly: "Oh, I think he knows his way about; look at his grin!"
The Sarian officer beckoned them to one side of the passage and showed them a metal knob that lay flush in the rock wall: this he pressed, and for a moment there could be heard a rush of water: slowly and silently the mass of rock in front of them swung open, as a door, and they found themselves blinking in the subdued light of evening. They passed through into the open to find themselves in a small clearing behind the village,—in front of which they had camped on their arrival months previously.
The officer called Hernam Singh and told him to count his men as they came out, saying, "I don't think any man would like to be left in there even for one night." Similarly he counted the escort and, all having been found present, in the open he pointed out a second knob, so well fashioned to its surroundings as to be quite indistinguishable to anyone not knowing the secret. Pressing this, the door, which was fully two feet thick, swung back and closed with a dull, heavy thud: and there was no trace of its presence.
The major became quite enthusiastic and congratulated the Sarian. "That is about as neat a bit of work as I have ever seen: is it known who made it?"
"Oh, yes," was the reply, "our people made it. They found a spring of water up there"—pointing up the cliff that towered perpendicularly above them—"and bored down to form a cistern and a pipe to work the mechanism. It is possible to see the machinery inside, though I never have: but it never seems to need attention!"
The village was occupied by about a hundred people, and the officer explained that they came from Saria to supply the guard for this entrance of the underground passage and for the cleft through the mountain range at the other end of the valley: a party remained here for six months, and then was relieved by another.
Major Simonds commented, "On our arrival there wasn't a soul here;—at least, we didn't see anybody!" Which drew the laughing reply, "They were here, all right. You were seen coming for more than a day before you reached the mountain cleft, and then every step you took was watched. There are plenty of places around here to hide in, but they, too, are well hidden."
The major glanced round approvingly and, nodding, said: "Good. It is very well done; and your arrangements and discipline everywhere are excellent!" Which, by the way, made of the young officer another friend to them in Saria.
At this moment a second officer approached them: he was in command of the "outer guard" and, having saluted, reported that he had arranged for them to camp there for the night and that suppers were cooked and ready. This was good news, as their first day's march, a hurried one, had tired them all considerably: above all, Simonds and Erskine appreciated the forethought whereby their servants and the porters were relieved of all the usual work of pitching camp and cooking.
And so, soon after dark, silence reigned over the camp, broken only occasionally when men of the village threw bundles of fuel on the fires, around which their porters and escort slept the sleep of the just.
Early the next morning they quickly traversed the rock-bound valley and came to the amazing rift in the mountain wall; and so at length to the endless, undulating plateau that stretched in its bleak nakedness towards India.
Stirring memories came to them as they turned for a farewell look at the outer precincts of Saria;—their hold-up in the gully and the slaughter that followed, on the very spot on which they now rested; then, looking westwards, they could just discern the ridge under which lay the deadly quicksands—and the slaughter that followed. Yes, Saria was well guarded, both by nature and by its virile inhabitants: they themselves had been treated with every kindness that hospitality could suggest; and now,—that wonderful Stesilea was guarding one of their party with all her power, exalted by a love that had waited through the ages for expression. With a tinge of sadness in his heart Simonds saluted their escort in farewell and gave the order to his little party to advance.
The wind and driven sand that had so tortured them on their journey to Saria, though now not nearly so strong as it had been then, was at their backs, and two days easily sufficed to cover a distance that had occupied three days when they last passed over this ground. They found their old camping grounds swept clean by the wind, but otherwise just as they had left them, and it was hard to believe that several months had passed since they had last been there,—forcing their way towards an unknown goal and to meet no one knew what sort of reception and what experiences.
In due course they found themselves climbing towards the pass that had nearly been their undoing, and it was with grave anxiety that they watched the gently wreathing clouds that veiled the two mountain peaks guarding the gateway on each side.
But it was a clear and brilliant morning on which they crossed the summit and saw, just below them, the rocky outcrop on which they had taken shelter; and, beyond, the peaceful, sunlit valley where they had recuperated from the difficulties of the other pass, where Erskine had made his amazing recovery, and where had come his first vision of Stesilea.
Immediately they started the descent, however, clouds began to mass behind them and to creep down the slope, dogging their steps. Soon it commenced snowing; a few flakes gently drifted by them and ever followed them down,—but behind them they could see it falling in a thick, driving blizzard. "It would seem that Saria is gently closing the door on us," said Simonds. "I wonder how things fare there."
This was the first time that any mention had been made of Saria; somehow they had both felt that what had occurred there was still too close and that they should await a favourable opportunity when details would have assumed their right proportions and perspective. And their march had been so rapid that when they reached camp in the evenings all they desired was to eat something, drink a lot and sleep like the dead: during the actual march they were both too busy to discuss anything.
And so they arrived in the valley and, pitching camp early, decided on one clear day of rest, and again to proceed by easy stages before tackling the second high pass.
Then it was that, sitting before a blazing fire after a special supper, when certain reserve tins and bottles had been broached, that Simonds puffed contemplatively for some minutes at an old and friendly pipe, and remarked, "Well, Jerks, I think we can talk now; upon my soul, I haven't felt like it since we left Saria, but things seem to be sorting themselves out somehow.
"I don't know how you feel about it, but I feel that I've got to accept what I can't believe. With my own eyes I saw Stesilea rising, as it were, from the dead; she was brought in looking as if she were the Marble Goddess we first heard of, and then got up, and spoke, and acted—acted most forcefully. By the way, I suppose you saw that too; I wasn't dreaming, was I?"
"Oh, yes,—I saw all that, and I wasn't dreaming; I pinched myself hard to make sure; and the bruises were there next morning;—I had a look-see to convince myself that I didn't dream them too. Another thing that struck me as being so dream-like was that, at the time, everything happened so quietly and naturally that, although one was amazed and all that sort of thing, still it wasn't so impossible to believe as it was afterwards—if you follow what I mean.
"I can't make head or tail of it all now, so I believe the lot; and I don't suppose I shall ever disbelieve anything again. If you were to tell me now I'd won the Calcutta Sweep I really think I'd believe you'd had a telepathic communication about it.
"As my old aunt Lucretia used to say, 'Believe me or believe me not, it's true!'"
"I'm sorry, Jerks, but I don't quite follow your argument;—I mean about that old aunt of your's,—who is probably quite an imaginary one."
"Oh, I mean,—I believe everything did happen, whether I believe it or not!"
"Very explicit," murmured the major. "As a matter of fact, that's just about what I feel myself. Then you think that Terrant isn't dead and that we shall see him again? Poor old man!"
"Absolutely! You see, I believe Stesilea through thick and thin; and she said so! And I think that, thanks to Stesilea, he just isn't at present; and I'm sure that Stesilea jolly well intends him to be her blue-eyed boy. But Jiminy! I wouldn't be in Calchas' shoes now at any price—or should I say, in his soul-case? Yes, I believe the whole damned bag of tricks; I believe that Calchas is literally in hell, a low-down one at that, and he jolly well knows it! But I can't explain it, it's beyond me."
"Well, I hope they don't put us in a lunatic asylum when we get back to Simla—that is, if we tell them all this."
Simonds looked at Erskine seriously and went on, "Look here; I've been rather wondering if we'd better invent some likely tale about Terrant; disclaim acquaintanceship with Stesilea, and explain fully the wish for help and so on. After all, it will do nobody any good if we're simply laughed at for fools!"
This was a poser that brought Erskine to with a sharp turn;—"Good Lord!" he exclaimed, "I never thought of that. Why,—if the Chief thought it funny and let it leak out we'd be laughed out of India, and the shrieks of ribald mirth would hound us to our graves. Heavens, what a thought!" and he sank into a moody silence.
But after a while he went on, speaking as the thoughts came to him, "On the other hand, I don't know. We can't tell what rumours may or may not drift through. We don't even know how much Yusuf Khan and Hernam Singh and these porters may have heard. Certainly we told Hernam Singh that Terrant was too ill with fever to be moved, but we don't know that he believed it! And if lots of rumours, flatly contradicting our statement, get through to the chief, he might begin by looking down his nose and end up by thinking we had murdered poor old Terrant!"
"I think you're right, Jerks," Major Simonds broke in. "We'd be found out for a certainty! A nice sort of position to be put in at my time of life;—if we both tell the truth, we'll be laughed at, and people will shake their heads sorrowfully when they see us; and if we lie, we'll probably be hung!"
"And I suppose this is where we thank father for the rabbit!" said Erskine, with a moan.
"Quite!" Simonds agreed. "Well, we'll work it out together and tell the truth, or what we think we know of it ourselves, and as little of it as possible. And then all we can do is to hope for the best."
And for about an hour they discussed what to tell and what not to tell; and how to tell what they must. And, as a matter of fact, this discussion was continued at intervals until they finally reached Simla, and even until they were actually entering the door of their chief's office.
The remainder of their journey was quite uneventful, except that every march was a forced march; for, as they advanced, the first snows of winter came down behind them and it was very apparent that they had started from Saria only just in time; twenty-four hours later their journey would have been appalling, if not impossible.
In due course they reached Simla, accompanied by Yusuf Khan; they had left Hernam Singh with the porters at Srinagar to follow more slowly to Rawal Pindi, where Moti All would see to the paying off and rewarding of the latter.
Simla they found in a state of upheaval owing to the annual winter migration to Calcutta that was about to commence. But they found their chief expecting them and ready to receive their report, having been notified by telegraph when they passed through Murree.
And the first hour or so of their interview was definitely trying; Major Simonds commenced his recital of the results of the expedition by saying that he feared his story was quite incredible, but he begged his hearer to listen to all that he had to say, and meanwhile to remember that he and Erskine were eyewitnesses of every event and that they were themselves absolutely convinced that they had been in no way hoaxed: and, further, that the dreadful cause of Terrant's absence from this conference was, if anything, a proof of the truth of his report.
Their chief listened attentively to the whole story, which Simonds made as brief as possible, and, except for occasional amazed or incredulous ejaculations, offered no interruption to the long statement. And when Simonds had finished, he sat silent for some minutes, playing with a pen that he had picked up early in the narrative, and from time to time searched Simonds' and Erskine's faces in a puzzled manner.
At last he broke the silence: "Both of you look sane enough, and the way you told your story, Simonds, was sane enough too, but—and you are ready to swear to what you've told me,—both of you?" Simonds nodded silently, never taking his eyes from those of his chief, while Erskine replied shortly, "Yes, sir!" Simonds then added: "On our march back we discussed whether we could even tell you all this story, whether we should not just tell you what the people of Saria wanted, and keep silent about the rest. Frankly, we don't see how you can believe it all; we don't know how we believe it ourselves, except that, having calmly watched and examined everything, we can't disbelieve it. In the end we decided we must tell you everything; and that's the story, sir, and we can only hope you won't send us to a home for the insane!"
He laughed shortly. "That's all right, Simonds; you've got me beat! Some few of the things you've told me my poor brain can grasp,—they're straightforward enough, and to the questions they give rise to, a straightforward answer can be given.
"I will send for you in a day or two and tell you what has been decided."
And as Erskine remarked,—That was that.
Two or three days later, after a prolonged series of hot baths had given them an improved outlook on life and a far better appearance to others, they were called to a further conference: briefly, the chief informed them that Simonds' recommendations were to be carried out in full, that he and Erskine were to proceed home on three months' leave, where they were to arrange certain details to do with arms and equipment and surveys—the last both for tactical and geological purposes—and that the following Spring they were to return to Saria in charge of a full exploratory expedition;—Major Simonds as Resident, and Erskine as his aide, if the former wished it.
The question of Terrant would be settled according to how they found him on their arrival there; for the moment it would be given out that he was away on special duty.
AND thus it was that, having returned to Peshawar for their kit, we foregathered in the same compartment en route to Bombay and Home.
I need not say that I frequently studied them both, during the long recital, to see if they showed obvious signs of either pulling my leg or of harmless insanity; but they appeared to be quite serious and by no means wild-eyed.
After they had concluded the story Simonds added, "Of course, India being what it is, all sorts of rumours will soon be floating around. I only hope they don't go so far as to say that we made away with Terrant in a quarrel over some woman; possibly, on the other hand, you may hear that he is now king of Saria. Nothing will be allowed to leak out officially,—for diplomatic reasons that are but too obvious; we don't want the big power to the north of us to come nosing around any more—not yet, at any rate."
"Poor old Terrant!" I murmured. "I expect you will be pretty anxious about him; for, the Lord knows what sort of state you will find him in when you get back there!"
The major grew perceptibly redder than the sun had made him, and hummed and hawed for some moments, then—"Well, to tell the truth, we've heard that he's all right now and going strong!"
"That's good news!" I exclaimed. "Did a runner get through?"
"Not exactly," he answered, and then burst out, "Jerks, dammit, you tell!"
Erskine shrugged his shoulders:—"Stesilea told us! Don't you dare laugh; I'll throw you out of the window if you do! Just about the last night before we got in to Srinagar we saw Stesilea—as clearly as we see your ugly mug now; and she told us that Calchas had caved in and that Terrant was as right as rain!"
"Do you mean to say that you spoke to each other like—like we are now?"
"Yes, I do! It's no use trying to understand, and you can believe us or not, as you please. We weren't asleep or dreaming or anything,—that we do know; we were sitting together in our tent, smoking; in the light from the fire outside: suddenly she was there with us. She told us, too, that she wasn't going to do anything about her own release—you know—until we return next year. We said, 'But what if we don't return; what are you going to do then, and what about Terrant?'; and she said she knew we were going to return, and so it wasn't worth talking about!"
"And what then?" I asked.
"Oh, well; pretty soon she went; disappeared."
"Well I'm damned!" said I. I felt as if my eyes were pretty nearly popping out of my head; but both Simonds and Erskine were as cool as cucumbers.
A VERY long time, years, elapsed before I heard anything further about Saria or those three adventurers: not so much as a syllable leaked out into the newspapers and, as I did not return to India, I met with none of the rumours, even, that probably made their devious courses through the length and breadth of that great country.
When we got home to England I bade farewell to the major and Erskine, expecting to see them again in two or three years at the latest; but after my leave I was sent off to a very different part of the world,—the Balkan States,—where so much was always happening and the threats of war were occurring so often that all my time and thoughts were fully engaged in my own particular business.
Then came the Sarajevo incident, and suddenly we were all involved. After the war I was retained at home, and immersed in all the horrors of the peace: during these years I certainly did sometimes think of Terrant and Stesilea, and little Calyce and the others; but by then I had completely lost touch with my Indian Army friends,—if any of them remained unkilled.
But one night the whole story was abruptly recalled to my mind:—dodging my way out from my seat in a theatre, between the acts, I saw a face that I recognized, two or three rows behind mine; and, although somewhat changed by years, there was no mistaking Simonds: our eyes met in mutual recognition and, with a hearty smile of welcome, he, too, rose to his feet, and we joyfully made our way together to the bar.
After the usual series of mostly-unanswered questions, flung one to the other, I did get the right of way and asked, "What about Saria?"
The major,—who was now, by the way, General, but none the worse for that,—smiled, and, raising his eyebrows, answered: "Oh, you remember that, do you? Let me see,—it's so long ago,—I think we saw you when we were just returned from our first visit there. All sorts of things have happened since then. And you evidently kept your mouth shut all right, so, in common fairness, I must tell you the rest. How about coming round to my chambers after this show? I'll send that sister of mine to her home in a cab and we can stroll to my place together!"
Nothing could have suited me better.
By the time he had finished, a summer dawn had become day, and a bottle of very excellent whisky was no better than it should have been.
Since then I have seen Erskine and Calyce and the son-and-heir,—to say nothing of the daughter-and-heiress as well.
And they told me their side of the story, together with details that the general overlooked.
MAJOR SIMONDS and Erskine found the first part of their leave to be what the latter complained of as "a hollow muckery: we muck about from office to office, and bearded old gentlemen blink their bleary old eyes at us through tele-photographic goggles."
The facts of the case were that they were interviewed by permanent Under-Secretaries and Secretaries of State, who were neither old nor bearded but, as Erskine again expressed it, "Leave is Leave; and a bottle-nosed politician for breakfast is a Calamity."
However, as things go, the business that had to be settled was completed in a remarkably short space of time, and they had several weeks to themselves before sailing.
Arrived in Calcutta, they were ordered to proceed to Rawal Pindi, where they would find Hernam Singh awaiting them, and there they would have plenty of time to get their expedition ready to start as soon as news came through from Kashmir that the snow was clearing sufficiently from the passes. Hernam Singh had volunteered to accompany them again: and in due course two engineer officers would report to them who were to act under Major Simonds' orders in making a survey of the country.
As was to be expected, no news had come through from Terrant; for the passes had been absolutely impassable.
Their final instructions were the best;—owing to the length and difficulty, under existing conditions, of the region separating Saria from India, Major Simonds, as plenipotentiary representative of the Indian Government, was to have a free hand to act in all matters as he saw fit, and not more than two reports per year would be demanded of him. Also he could retain the services of Captain Terrant if he desired to, and if the latter wished to remain in Saria.
The major, unperceived by Erskine, conveyed an expressive wink to their chief, and said: "What about this young officer, sir? I don't think there is anything we can find for him to do there!"
"Oh, send him back to his regiment!" replied the other, with a delightfully off-hand manner.
Erskine's expression of horrified woe and general likeness to a pricked balloon were so excruciatingly funny to the two contrivers of the jest that for some minutes they could do no more than lie back and roll helplessly in their chairs; until at last the chief, wiping his eyes, gasped out: "I've heard of you, Erskine,—you specialize in leg-pulls, don't you? Well, there's one for you!" and relapsed again into sobs of mirth.
When he had at last recovered his breath he went on. "That was a prize one, Simonds; but I think we owe the youngster something for a very painful half-minute: let's take him and give him a jolly good dinner at the club this evening. I don't suppose I shall see either of you for a long time, so we'll make it a good send-off."
It had been an evil half-minute for Erskine! They had both been so serious, and yet casual, in their ordering of his fate that he was completely taken in; and so his reaction later was equally intense, and he galumphed about like an overgrown puppy.
Hernam Singh, all smiles, met them at the station at Rawal Pindi,—as keen as either of them to return to Saria: he was particularly anxious as to what rifles they were taking with them, "for," he pointed out, "this time, sahib, we shall be able to go into the mountains to shoot; I heard that there are all kinds of shikar to be found there!"
Erskine asked him why he wished to return to Saria, and perhaps be absent from India for many years; and he explained: "Sahib, my wife is dead and my brother does not need my help in our village. I find the 'water and the air' of Saria to be good, as is also the grain. I think that they make fine soldiers. This time I shall take my medals as well as my sword!" Which was, perhaps, a very good explanation.
They intended to take a large equipment with them, including books, photographic materials and special stores for themselves; also extra porters had to be provided for the personal baggage and instruments of the two officers who were to accompany them: but there was plenty of time to go about the preparations without fuss or worry.
At last the news came through that they would be able to get to Srinagar within the next three or four days, so they completed their final arrangements, and were joined by the two engineers,—Captain James and Lieutenant Moberly, who, being a hearty couple, were received without reserve into the select band of sightseers to Saria.
And in due course they left the plains of the Punjab and, a few days later, the valley of Kashmir.
Although so early in the season, they met with no great difficulties or mishaps on the way; and while they made no attempt to travel very fast, the miles fell behind them with pleasing regularity. The two high passes were deep in new-fallen snow, but the snow was firm and hard; and no storms rushed down upon them at awkward moments: in fact it seemed that a special providence, or the old gods of Saria, was making their path easy.
At last the mountain frontiers of Saria appeared, black and white, above the horizon, and slowly, so slowly, drew nearer.
While they were still two days' march from the cleft in the mountains Hernam Singh suddenly shouted and drew their attention to a bright, winking light above it; "A helio, by jove!" said Erskine, and spelt out "W E L C O M E", three or four times repeated; "Sorry we've got nothing to answer them with. I wonder if old Terrant will come down to meet us? Jiminy! won't it be good to see the old bird again!"
And when they were but two or three miles away, a sudden flurry of dust rose from the entrance of the cleft, a squadron of cavalry cantered out and, forming line, broke into a gallop: then halting, two troops on each side facing inwards, formed a passage for them to march through, and Terrant came to meet them.
With laughter and much talking they wrung each other's hands; they asked questions, and either did not listen for an answer or no answer was given, until Erskine shouted above the clamour, "How is Calyce, damn you?"
And in the silence that followed, Terrant answered: "I touches my 'at to you, guv'nor, likewise I bows! Calyce is very well—and so is Master Erskine. I told Calyce I would give you her love, but I refused to kiss you for her:—you old reprobate!"
Erskine grew very red in the face, and hemmed and hawed, and shuffled on his feet; then he turned on Major Simonds, "I told you I ought to put the little perisher's name down for Winchester;—I knew he wouldn't be a girl!"
"Well, what is his name, anyway?" the major retorted.
"Golly! I never thought of that," Erskine replied in a hushed whisper, dreadfully serious.
"All right;—go and think it out: I refuse to be the godfather to a boy without a name!" said the major, and slapped him on the back.
And so they came to the gateway of Saria and, passing through, found their last camp ready set for them at the village by the tunnel entrance.
Terrant was in splendid form and told them that winter in Saria was like Switzerland,—only more so; one could skate or ski and indulge in any and every winter sport: Xerres was well and would have liked to come and meet them, but couldn't manage it.
But of other and serious news he would tell them nothing. "No," said he, "wait until to-morrow night, and then I will tell you everything. Stesilea told me to say how glad she was that you had had such a good journey, and that she was looking forward earnestly to your return; and so have I been!"
The following afternoon they were welcomed to Saria.
They were led straight to the parade ground, where a brigade of cavalry and two of infantry were drawn up to receive them and their escort: also a great crowd of the townsfolk had gathered there to greet them, brightening the scene with the varied colours of their holiday robes.
And as they approached the saluting base Xerres and Calyce came forward to meet them; so Simonds and Terrant busied themselves with Xerres—talking about nothing—to give Calyce and Erskine a chance to get over their joy;—for Calyce's eyes had been suspiciously damp and Erskine could not speak.
Soon Calyce and Xerres, with an appearance of great mystery, led them to their quarters. She had got her wish; Erskine and she were now to occupy that flower-embowered bungalow in the lane-like road leading from the parade ground to the temple enclosure: Simonds was allotted the adjoining house and Terrant next to him; while the two sappers were given another small house near by.
The two girls, Briseis and Acantha, and a third named Melia, were there to take up their duties in the houses.
The afternoon was just a joyous home-coming.
Of course, there was also another ceremony of great importance when Erskine, with great solemnity, led off the major to what he called "baby inspection". He apologized deeply for having to admit that it did not talk much yet, but reassumed an attitude of lofty self-approbation when he confided that he had it on good authority that the infant was already becoming very well "house-trained".
That night they supped together in Calyce's house: the major and Erskine told of their journey home and of the support they were to receive from India; but they were absent-minded in the giving of their news, for their thoughts were really centred on Terrant and Stesilea and the events that had taken place during their absence.
And in due time Terrant abated their curiosity. He pointed out that, of course, he had himself been told by Stesilea, Calyce and Xerres of most of what he was about to pass on to them, and during the course of his narrative Calyce occasionally corrected or added to the details.
"First of all, do you remember, Jerks, paying a visit to a certain cave where ladies danced very prettily for you? Oh, you do, do you? Well, Stesilea got to the bottom of that."
"Tell me who the bird was," begged Erskine. "I particularly want to meet him and wring his neck: and what had I done to him anyway?"
"Give me a chance, and I'll tell you everything. As for wringing his neck,—that would have been a pleasure to him compared to what he has gone through. It was your old friend, Calchas!"
"Calchas! Well, I'm damned! Why?" Erskine exclaimed.
"You had butted in on his tenderest hopes; the old devil was in love with Calyce, and when it seemed that you were about to get away with her, he arranged matters so that you should not. I must say I don't think he was very nice in his methods."
"In love with Calyce!" Erskine stammered in indignation. "The dirty old devil!"—and turning to Calyce, "I swear you could never have encouraged that bottle-nosed old pig; what gave him the great idea?"
"Jerks dear, I never knew anything about it till the night when Stesilea suddenly accused him of it. She had just recalled him from the outer void, and he gave in and confessed to everything. Oh, it was ghastly; I nearly fainted with horror."
Terrant went on, "Well, for that little episode Stesilea gave him an extra spell of the outer void, so you may say you got your own back."
"But how did he work it?"
"It is like the old stories of Jinns in the Arabian Nights: he made some spirit take the likeness of Calyce and lead you to the cave; and he made the sentry at the gates feel faint at the critical moment when you were coming along.
"Apparently the ballet that you were favoured with was just the finishing touch that the spirit thought out for itself and playfully arranged for your amusement—and its own! It must have been a great show, that ballet; you ought to feel vastly honoured!"
"Well, I'm blowed! Well, I am blowed!" Erskine gasped. "Cheery birds these spirits, and with a well-developed sense of humour. We ought to engage a gang of them to amuse London—and make our fortunes! On the other hand, there's something about them that I don't quite like."
"You can have my share!" Terrant replied, and then resumed. "It was Calchas, too, who had appointed some agents in India to try and stop us coming here: it was they who tried to put Yusuf Khan out of business in Pindi, and they again who nearly succeeded in getting our porters to bolt just when we were leaving inhabited regions. Having failed in these stunts he arranged that cheery reception party that turned us back at the gully when we first arrived: Stesilea suspected him from the first, but he was too clever for her to catch him out: you see, she instructs certain of her councillors and priests in occult matters, and he was very knowledgeable; I don't quite understand it all, but in everything he did against her he was able to put barriers to prevent her finding out who was responsible."
"But if she suspected him," Simonds questioned sharply, "however did she come to trust him enough to let him be in charge of that ghastly business in the temple?"
"Oh, I asked her that myself; Stesilea said that she certainly did not think he would dare to try anything so risky; and that being the case, she couldn't turn anyone else on to take charge as he, being the chief adviser, was the obvious and natural person to do it. But now, if you like, I will tell you about my party.
"In a way you know more about the trick that he played on me than I do; he put me out; and I, as it were, slept for about six weeks; all I know about it is that I had appalling nightmares;—I felt that I was lost and that horrible faces kept looking at me; I felt, too, that I was about the size of a pin's head and that some of the faces were attached to huge and grotesquely misshapen bodies: and I was terrified that they might touch me;—God! I still shiver to think of them! And sometimes I seemed to be surrounded by dazzlingly bright lights that whirled around me; and everything vibrated with a deep, nerve-racking humming:—that was awful,—it was maddening, and at times I gave up hope that it would ever stop. Stesilea told me afterwards that I had heard the stars revolving in their courses! It was all rather like the dreams of delirium—but far worse. Once or twice I thought I saw her, and then I had peace for a little while; I remember striving with all my might and with all my mind to go to her, but I couldn't. It was a horrible show!
"In the meanwhile, once in every two weeks or so, Stesilea recalled Calchas; he was perceptibly weakening but the silly fool would not give way. Once I thought I saw him; he was being pursued by a pack of foul, almost shapeless, jelly-like things with blind-looking eyes; whenever one touched him the spot turned grey-white and looked as if it was rotting away—putrid; at last, suddenly, the pack caught him and fell on him,—a squirming, loathsome mass; then for a moment I saw his face and I knew that he was begging me to help him. Stesilea tells me that what I went through was positively enjoyable compared with what he had to put up with: for one thing I was more or less unconscious—dulled in the spirit—and sometimes even knew that soon it would all be over: but Calchas did not get a moment of peace, and all the time he knew why he was suffering his tortures and that they certainly would not end until he gave way. Stesilea defended me from the beasts that I saw, but Calchas had no defence—and, Oh, my God!"
Beads of perspiration broke out and rolled down his forehead, and he shuddered at his thoughts; and Calyce sprang to her feet and, moving swiftly to his side, took his hand in both of her's and comforted him with softly spoken words.
Smiling affectionately at her, he continued: "What I would have done without Calyce, I don't know:—if you're ever unkind to her, Jerks, I'll do you in, as sure as fate;—she looked after me through all that time and Stesilea told her how to ease things for me when they were very bad."
He was silent for a short while, and then went on: "Well, to get on with the business;—Calchas at last broke down,—he couldn't stand any more; but by then he was such a mental and physical wreck that for about a week he couldn't do anything for me.
"Of course, he realized that Stesilea hadn't finished with him yet, but he was only too keen to finish my party for me, in the hopes that he wouldn't be given any more of what he had already gone through.
"He confessed his plan before full assembly;—and he would have got away with it, too, but for Hernam Singh telling you of the rumour he had heard, and Xerres being able to counter it. As I think you know, he sent me—not to search for Stesilea, but to what they call the 'Outer Void'; then he tried to do the same by Stesilea, but Xerres got there before him and warned her of what was coming—and that was enough.
"With Stesilea out of the way, he was going to proclaim himself king of Saria, and nobody could have stopped him. You remember Stesilea telling us that he is a direct descendant of the old kings: evidently he had always had a bit of a hankering for the job, and suddenly saw that this was his opportunity.
"You see, he couldn't do it ordinarily; but at that time Stesilea was waiting for me to get in touch with her, and so was exposed, open, as it were, to a command from him.
"Well, he failed;—and he is sorry now that he ever got the idea. As soon as he was fit he brought me back, and in a few days I was as fit as a fiddle.
"I spent a splendid winter here; I had some skis made that worked quite well; but we must send for some real ones to act as models to copy from; and we must get some skates and toboggans: St. Moritz won't be in it compared with this place.
"I had some quite decent shooting, too, up in the foothills, when I took most of the army out for some winter manoeuvres;—they're damned good troops, by the way;—keen as mustard!
"But to finish off about Calchas and so on:—he wanted to finish the job of bringing Stesilea back to life, but she wasn't taking any; said she would wait until you got back and that then Xerres would be sufficiently instructed to do whatever was necessary.
"Since then Calchas has been kept in cold storage,—just sleeping, as it were: Stesilea has some plan about his future, but she hasn't told anybody yet what it is; and he doesn't mind what it is as long as she doesn't send him back to the outer void.
"Also she is quite certain that everything is going to go smoothly this time; she knew there was trouble of some sort before, but couldn't find out what;—that was why she hesitated so much about it.
"I think that's about all: in a few days a Full Assembly will be held, and she will expound her plans then: of course, everybody knows all about Calchas, and so, as I say, this time Stesilea is going to act with the approval of the Responsible Members as well as of the council and chief advisers."
Terrant ceased speaking; and in a moment Erskine turned and, hugging Calyce, ejaculated: "Golly! What a party!"
Calyce, wriggling herself partially free, asked in English: "Jerks, dear, what does 'golly' mean?"
He and the major looked at her in astonishment; then the former blurted out, "Hi, there! Where have you been learning your English?"
She snuggled down closer under his arm and coyly answered: "Terrant taught me; and I taught him Greek. He speaks Greek better than you do now!"
"Well, I'm damned!" Erskine gasped. "Of all the faithless wives—!"
Terrant grinned and chortled, and a look of complete self-satisfaction spreading over his face, "Yes, my boy, you'll have to buck up! None of your slovenly kitchen-Greek now! We're high-toned people, we are!"
"High-toned!" Erskine stuttered with assumed rage. "You wait, young lady, till I get you alone, and I'll high-tone you!"
"Yes, Jerks, dear; I think that will be very nice," and she hid her face on his shoulder, shaking with laughter, while the major and Terrant joined in uproariously, and Erskine, crimsoning painfully, endeavoured to assume his favourite lofty attitude of detachment, but failed miserably.
When their glee had simmered down Simonds said: "Half a minute,—before this gathering gets quite out of hand,—you mean then, Terrant, that you and Stesilea are going to risk another try?"
"Yes. But Stesilea says there will be no risk this time."
"Hmmm—! Well, I hope not," the major grunted, and then continued, "And what happens then,—if all goes well?"
"As a matter of fact," and Terrant reddened slightly under his tan, "Stesilea and I are going to be married!"
Calyce again wriggled deep under Erskine's arm while he ejaculated, "Achchha anda—or Indian 'good egg'": and the major softly murmured: "Yes, I suppose so!"
Erskine now took charge, "Congratulations, old boy; heartiest congratulations from your uncle Jerks; in fact I may say—congratulations on behalf of myself, my wife and my children! And of course, if you want to know anything;—if, as a married man, I can give you any information or straight tips, don't hesitate to come to me. The full wealth of my advice is at your disposal. And speaking as one married man to one who is about to be—" But Terrant had jumped to his feet and was striding towards him: Erskine leaned behind Calyce and gallantly placed her in the forefront of the battle,—and then bit her wrist.
Calyce screamed and this caused the diversion that he desired; and once again shouts of laughter burst from them all. Terrant rested satisfied with the comment, "I did hope, Major, that such long companionship with you and a leave at home would have given Jerks a little control over his verbal prattle,—but what a hope! Calyce, my dear, do try and make a man of him!"
But Calyce was happy,—"I love my funny Jerks," she murmured; and peace was restored.
After this they continued till a late hour talking and asking questions and reminiscing until, from another room, Master Erskine complained bitterly.
The next morning Simonds and Terrant took the two engineer officers for a bathe in the swimming bath and were later followed by Erskine and Calyce: this seemed to set the seal on their return so that it felt as if they had scarcely been away at all. Erskine revelled in the cool, clean feel of the water and found Calyce's prettiness a very full recompense for the absence of his friends; but he told her he had brought a bathing-suit especially for her so that sometimes they could all swim and enjoy themselves together.
As a matter of fact, when, later, she tried it on she became thoroughly embarrassed for the first time in her life: she tried to explain her feelings,—"It's not me and yet it is me, all funny; somehow I seem to be much more undressed than I am when I've got nothing on. I suppose it's alright, but I know I shall want to go and hide myself!"
After breakfast Xerres came round with another man, a trained surveyor, to make arrangements with the two sappers, and he showed them where a special room was being built behind their bungalow to act as a drawing office. Soon they were deeply involved in discussing what men and arrangements they would need, till finally they were left to fix up everything between themselves; after that they could decide with the Major where to commence operations.
Xerres told them that the Full Assembly would take place two nights later, when they would be rested from their journey and thoroughly settled down: and he had brought to them a large selection of ceremonial and work-a-day robes.
"Nice to get back to these togs, once you have got used to them," said Erskine. "Pants are a pandect!"
"Pants are a what?"
"Pandect!"
"Pandect! What's that? Never heard of it!" Simonds inquired blandly.
"Pandect," Erskine replied weightily, "Pandect is a complete digest of some department of knowledge; I saw it in a book. So are pants!"
"God help us!" the Major sighed.
The two days passed happily and quickly, spent in wandering about and renewing old acquaintanceships. The people quite accepted them now as belonging to Saria, and clearly took it for granted that they would make their permanent home there. Erskine in particular, with his lackadaisical, cheery manner and a wife whom they had all known from childhood up, appealed to them strongly and he met with many signs of genuine friendship. In addition they all knew Terrant well by now and they had been told of the trials he had undergone on behalf of Stesilea; they admired him for what he was,—a courageous, sincere gentleman; and rumours had been permitted to filter through as to Stesilea's intentions with regard to him.
Thus the whole town was agog with speculation as to what they were to hear or what was to occur on the night of the Assembly.
AND so the evening arrived. Simonds and Erskine, as the time approached, were stung with the itch of expectancy; they looked forward to seeing Stesilea again, and were on tenterhooks as to the outcome of the second attempt.
Xerres, being chief adviser, did not come to conduct them to the temple,—besides, it was felt that they needed no guide.
Making their way to the enclosure, they found the open crescent in front of the steps crowded with the priests and priestesses and the Responsible Members, to join whose ranks Calyce left them: Xerres, grave with the weight of his duties, bowed as they passed and beckoned to them to enter without delay.
And they came to the temple,—the doors thrown wide open and, as when they were last in it, the deep gloom relieved by light streaming from the sanctuary: and as before, in front of the sanctuary two sets of trestles; but on this occasion a stretcher lay on each set.
"Rather gives me the creeps," whispered Erskine as they made their way towards the light, "but I don't feel as bad as I did last time, though, under the circumstances, I suppose I ought to feel worse!"
"I feel more comfortable too," the Major confided, "we don't want any more trouble to come Terrant's way, and how he faces it a second time beats me," and with a short laugh he added, "I shall catch it from India if anything goes wrong again!"
But now they had taken their places beside the stretchers and, looking back, they could see the first ranks of the maidens unhurriedly mounting to the doors; and with a thrill they watched the dark chamber gradually filling with massed, lighted tapers. Then with a slight reminiscent shudder, they saw Terrant approaching, but accompanied by Xerres and the two chief priestesses.
As before, the great bell had issued its three solemn tollings and now, with a single stroke, brought silence to the great throng. Then with a swelling of the heart they listened to the sweet melody of the hymn to beauty.
And Stesilea entered,—smiling, happy, courageous; and, seemingly, more ethereally, more incredibly beautiful than ever.
With a smile of welcome her glance rested on Simonds and on Erskine; and then her eyes sought Terrant's, becoming more possessive and exultant.
She mounted to her throne, and the white cat lay down on its arm.
"Bring Calchas," she commanded. And members of the council approached that door in the wall that they remembered; and, opening it, they brought forth a rigid figure of a man and stood it on her right, at the foot of the steps.
They stared at it critically and saw Calchas,—unchanged but asleep.
But Stesilea's voice, so gentle yet so imperative, recalled them:—"Calchas! Your mind may resume its seat."
His eyes opened; and intelligence shone in his eyes: colour infused his lips and his cheeks; but, from his neck downward, he remained rigid as stone.
She continued—"Calchas, listen to my words: when you recalled this man Terrant I told you that your punishment was not yet complete; and I promised that you should be given the opportunity to atone for the evil that you had done. You begged for that opportunity. Are you still of the same mind?"
And Calchas, still motionless and fixed except for his eyes and mouth, replied "Stesilea; I repent fully and without ambiguity: I pray you not to send me back to the outer void, but if such be your will—so be it. I beg of you to let me atone:—I will be faithful."
Stesilea nodded slowly once or twice; then, in a little while, turning towards them, gave a sincere welcome to the two Englishmen who had returned: she asked them if they were satisfied with Terrant's appearance and the manner in which he had been looked after during their absence; and she congratulated Erskine on being the father of a fine son; finally she asked the major to tell them the decision of the Indian government with regard to Saria.
Major Simonds' answer was brief;—he told them that the government of India had considered the matter to be of sufficient importance to justify sending them to England to consult the ministers there, and that he thought that the answer he brought with him would fully satisfy Stesilea, her council and the people of Saria. He himself had been sent back to act as the representative of the government, with full power of decision; he was authorized to offer to Captain Terrant the position of Adviser to the Army of Saria: and he brought with him two officers to co-operate in devising schemes of defence.
It was considered that certain armaments should be provided at once, and these would be supplied from England.
He had found that flying was still in the first stages of experiment, but nobody could say how soon it might not become an accomplished science; and it was recognized that it was necessary to be prepared for any eventuality in that direction; information of all the latest developments would be sent to them at once.
Finally, the government of India would make every endeavour to fulfil without delay any and every requirement that might be submitted.
Stesilea smiled;—"I think that our wishes were very fully understood, and have been met in the quiet, unostentatious manner that is so desirable.
"Do the people of Saria approve?" she asked, facing the assembled council and responsible members before her; and Xerres in a few moments reported their unanimous approval to Stesilea.
After thanking Major Simonds she went on,—"And now I submit my intention to you to again endeavour to resume my right to live as any one of you,—to complete the life that was commenced in the days of your forefathers and which, as you all know, was suspended in my youth,—through no fault of mine.
"You know that, through the evil of Calchas, my first endeavour was brought to nought and the soul of Terrant was placed in gravest jeopardy. I demand my right, but I ask your approval."
Immediately every taper in that great assembly was raised aloft in assent and a sigh of expectation whispered through the empty spaces of the temple;—"I thank you," said Stesilea, "for I know that your sympathies and your wills are with me. I am ready, and Terrant is ready!
"On the occasion of the previous endeavour I did not care to permit Calchas to send my spirit hence with that of Terrant;—I did not trust him;—but the soul of Terrant was sent to search for me in the void: and you know the result.
"Now, however, Xerres will send us together and we shall return together—and I shall be mortal woman!
"Calchas truly desires to expiate his sin; he can do so! If he consents, I will first render to him the immortality which is at this moment mine so that he may continue to advise our country after my liberation: but I will bind him so that never again will he be able to do harm.
"Calchas, do you consent? You desired to rule the country, but that could not be: here is your chance to control its destiny worthily!"
"Yes, Stesilea, I accept," he answered, "I expected death or worse; you offer me a heavy, but worthy, burden and one which I can bear."
"Do the people of Saria approve?" Stesilea demanded.
Calanus rose to his feet and said, "Stesilea; I believe that my thought will be that of all the people of Saria. I think it right that Calchas should bear the burden that you have held so long and faithfully; and I trust that the time you awaited has now in truth arrived and that soon we shall greet you as mortal woman.
"But I do not desire Calchas as our ruler; it is not meet that he should assume the position that you held; let him advise from his inner knowledge, and then hold his peace.
"I ask that you shall continue to be our ruler,—our queen, if you will!"
A murmur arose and swelled throughout the temple and, as one, every taper was raised on high.
Calanus turned and surveyed the scene behind him, then, "You see, Stesilea; that is the wish of your people!
"We believe that you desire to marry Terrant;—we are happy to accept him as your consort, and joint ruler with you!"
Again the tapers were raised in complete approval; and Xerres, standing forth, declared in a loud voice "Stesilea, you have heard the wish of your people; do you approve?"
She raised her hand and smiling over all, answered, "I accept!" Turning to Calchas, she said, "Calchas! Accept the burden that I have prepared for you; and serve our people faithfully until you in your turn shall be released."
Calchas bowed; his limbs were released, for during the hours of darkness he was free—in so far as was Stesilea. Thenceforward he stood in the corner of the sanctuary on Stesilea's right; but this night he gave utterance to no words.
Then rising, Stesilea said, "Now Xerres; the time has come. May the gods give us all strength!"
She descended the few steps from the throne and, laying herself down on one of the stretchers, beckoned to Terrant to occupy the other. Athenais and Nausicaa stood at her head and Xerres, moving to her feet, stood between her and Terrant.
The silence became heavy, oppressive; it seemed that almost the air was too dense to breathe. Calmly but with terrible concentration Xerres stared into her eyes, and soon they closed; and the rise and fall of her breasts ceased. Then he turned to Terrant who smiled shortly at him and relaxed into submissiveness. Soon Terrant's eyes too quivered and closed; and the blood gradually ebbed from his cheeks and lips.
Moving to their heads, Xerres whispered to Stesilea and then received from Athenais some glittering instruments and a tube. After a few deft movements it could be seen that the tube stretched between Terrant and Stesilea, connecting their arms.
"Transferring blood from Terrant!" Erskine gasped; and Simonds, on whose forehead sweat glistened in beads, nodded agreement.
Soon Xerres, assisted by Athenais and Nausicaa, removed the instruments and gently bound up their arms where were the incisions; then he whispered to Terrant and again to Stesilea, and returning to their feet, steadfastly watched them.
Suddenly he looked up at Athenais who, meeting his eye, stooped and gazed first at Stesilea and then at Terrant: she drew herself up to her full height and smiled and nodded.
Xerres turned to Major Simonds and smiled reassuringly then, facing the Assembly, announced softly, "All is well!"
Sighs of relief escaped from harshly controlled lungs and were like to the flutterings of wings. Now they could perceive that colour was again suffusing Terrant's face, and surely there too a rosy glow was spreading through Stesilea's lips and cheeks. Her eyes quivered open, and soon Athenais and Nausicaa raised her shoulders: she sat up and placed a hand over her heart,—and a smile of overwhelming joy gleamed in her eyes, parted her lips.
She turned towards Terrant who was now raising himself on one hand while Xerres assisted with an arm round his shoulders; and then for a moment she and Terrant gazed deep in each other's eyes; and Stesilea blushed; then turning to the people, she exclaimed "It is well: I thank the gods. Now, at long last, I am free to live and love and complete my life!"
Rising, she took Terrant's hand in hers and mounted the steps to her throne. She seated herself and
Terrant remained standing by her side. Then to her people she said—
"I am now as one of you; but perhaps with greater wisdom, for I do not forget all that I have learnt. I will now rule you,—as you wish it,—with the help of our Council and Responsible Members and Advisers. And I will take this man, Terrant, as my mate—if he so wishes!"
Smiling tenderly she gazed up at him, and Terrant answered "You know that I wish it—and have wished it for long. My life is your's, Stesilea!" And all in the Assembly rose to their feet, raising their tapers and exclaiming "Stesilea!"
Then she called Xerres and Calchas to her and told the latter that for the time being his body could rest during the day on a couch that had been prepared in the corner of the temple;—further, that work would be commenced at once upon the building of a sanctuary for him. And to Xerres she gave instructions that she and Terrant would sign their marriage agreement one week later before a Full Assembly; and that that day should be proclaimed a general holiday.
She then dismissed the Assembly and, the doors being opened, the Responsible Members commenced to file out: but one soon re-entered and spoke to Calanus; and he, in turn, approached Stesilea.
"What is it, Calanus?" she asked.
He explained—"The people are gathered together in the crescent before the enclosure, and they ask for news of you and Terrant. There is a vast crowd."
"Go then," she answered, "and I will follow. And Xerres shall proclaim our decisions and the event of to-night."
And followed by Xerres, Major Simonds and Erskine, she made her way with Terrant to the head of the steps. Before her, in the semi-darkness, the open space was black with the great multitude of people: and some brought lamps, the light of which they shone on to Stesilea so that, in her glorious and living beauty, she appeared as a goddess.
And a great hush fell on the multitude. Then Xerres proclaimed to the people all that had occurred, and announced the approaching marriage of Stesilea.
And with a great shout they cried to Stesilea and well-nigh worshipped her. Soon she dismissed them and silence fell on the city of Saria.
FROM an early hour of the day appointed people, gaily dressed, began to collect before the temple enclosure: many even had come in from the countryside, for this holiday was one that would be remembered for many generations.
The people had heard of Stesilea and of the guidance she had afforded their country; but few had seen her or knew of her as aught but some spirit. And now, through the help of this stranger, Terrant, she had become a human being even as they and was to take him as her companion in marriage. They had heard too that she was beautiful beyond belief, and perhaps they might even see her.
Stesilea thought that as many people as wished it should see her, in which matter Xerres was in full agreement: so a throne was prepared for her at the top of the steps leading to the temple and its gardens; and officers of the army, forming a guard of honour, were massed on the steps and behind the throne while troops held the centres of all the converging streets and were to lead the procession of people past her and to regulate its flow.
Much to his delight and pride Hernam Singh was to accompany Major Simonds and Erskine who, in uniform, would support Terrant; coming to them that morning resplendent in full-dress and very satisfied with his stalwart appearance, he exulted, "Was I not right, sahib, to bring my medals as well as my sword this time?"
Erskine was fussy, and gravely interfered with Calyce's preparations; she was to sit at Stesilea's feet and had therefore many very serious matters to attend to. Wandering about, he kept up an incessant chatter, "I suppose I'm really Terrant's best man, and unless I keep an eye on him he's sure to do something wrong. And who is to give Stesilea away, I am told that her father has been dead for several years? Shall I have to sign the register and, if so, should I write my name in Greek letters or in English? Calyce, you're looking very pretty; but do be careful or that dress of your's will fall off; and my old guv'nor always said 'A rose by any other—' no, that wasn't it after all! Anyway,—here, let me fix that for you:—oh, alright, go your own way, but don't blame me if you suddenly find that brooch sticking into you; I told you it had a tricky pin when I gave it to you."
Doubtless he would have continued in similar strain for the rest of the morning—if permitted—but Calyce shooed him out of the room; so he went to the next bungalow to help Simonds—as he said; the Major put up with him for nearly three minutes: Terrant was not in his bungalow, so Erskine teased the baby until he brought down Calyce's wrath on his head.
Notwithstanding Erskine, they all got to the temple in good time to find Terrant awaiting them there with Xerres. Except that a table had been placed in front of the throne, all was as usual. Soon the great bell rang out and the priests and priestesses, the Responsible Members and the Council entered.
Then the curtains covering the entrance to the apartments beyond were drawn aside by Athenais and Nausicaa, and Stesilea came towards them.
Stesilea returned to her girlhood; Stesilea blushing and radiantly happy; robed in white embroidered with silver, she took her place at the table, with Terrant, in simple khaki uniform, beside her.
In turn she and Terrant signed the marriage form, simple as for any other marriage in the State; then, to Erskine's visible disgust, Major Simonds signed it as Terrant's witness. And Stesilea, laughing gaily, said "Now, Jerks, will you sign for me? you are perhaps somewhat young to be my father but they tell me you are a—very respectable married man!"
Erskine grew crimson, and hemmed and hawed as he took the pen; and Terrant laughed at him and exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, "It's alright, old man, you haven't got to make a speech!"
Erskine glared at him furiously but, having signed, turned to Stesilea saying, "Stesilea; may I kiss your hand?" And she, smiling mischievously, answered that he might; but it was not her hand that she offered; turning to him she kissed him lightly on the lips: and he looked across to Terrant and nodded slowly, murmuring "Fifteen love, I think!"
When Xerres had signed they filed out with Stesilea and so came to the throne in the open: and the whole crowd shouted and acclaimed her as she took her seat; and then called Terrant's name as he stood up beside her.
For many hours the crowd passed by and, for the first time, saw Stesilea,—but now no longer the Marble Goddess: until at last this ordeal came to an end, and she and her party celebrated the day at a lunch in her apartments in the temple.
And so passed this great day.
Stesilea fulfilled her life, and the throne of Saria will one day be held by her son.
The war in Europe and Asia and Africa came and passed; but Saria continues hidden by its mountains.
As Stesilea foresaw, revolution, murder, terror and madness swept through Russia, and it seemed that the sole desire of those who controlled it was that every other country should suffer the same fate: but luckily Russia had forgotten Saria and no more exploring parties had to be discouraged.
In Saria, however, they are prepared for the day of discovery and will not permit of intrusion or interference.
Terrant is happy as Stesilea's consort and as Commander-in-Chief of the Army: General Simonds, still a bachelor, continues to represent the government of India, and Erskine—well, Erskine is Jerks Erskine still, and considers his home to be Saria.
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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