The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1914-01-30

NLich revealed the sieAder digniV OF
hCr frame the heayy Nklood-red SUNS
weighing down the hands clasped
loosely about the carved arms or the
throne. the Unsheathed sword glitter
ing az her fetal seemed but sin
ister reflection ot-the eyes that stared
out over the heads of the kneeling
crowd Cruelty deyilisf Unsuitable
yet not without a certain AWFUL maJes-
ty. las In the sOmbcr. inCrutable gaze
The lips 90 the once lovely mouth
were parted. bat no longer Ina the
old. tcIdcr. hfeatlile5s longing
TO Hursts tortured imagination IL
seemed thg the spirit OF dying
faith grand. beautiful IN its mystic
aspiration, had passed away with the
Sarasyati or his dreams and that with
this Witherod, terrible beauty rose the
personihcauQn-- souiiess devil
Worship religion that had lost irs
hold on God Better that she should
have died-better that tAe Games or
her destiny should have carried her
10 the Nirvana OF her prayers than
that she should have become this
through him and through bis race.
Above him the priests voice range
out like the full note of an organ.
Daughter of Heaven behold thy
people Long have they waited for
three. O Sarasvati, and despair has
eaten their courage and bent their
necEs in shameful submission With
anguish have they seen thy altar de-
serted, thy faita rooted out from the
heart OF their children Anarchy
faithlessness. disCord have been
sown Oy thy enemies. and no man
has risen 70 hold their hand Bat
! thou hast returned and the weak arm
grows strong and the fearful heart
| bold Speak. Sarasyau, Thou art
! from Heaven and thy curse shall des-
troy the strongest foe. thy blessing
shall make the dullest olaN sharp
as a sCythe'
My curse Is on them.
Hurst lifted his head MOtionless,
with that same hungry cruelty about
| the curved mouth. she stared out IN
TO the darkness Pitiless as fate, her
voice had sounded in the tense sulI
ness
"See--the sword lies at thy feet
Shall il be with the sword?"
1T shall be with the sword
"In the blood Of the oppressors
shall the sins OF thy people be wash
ed out?"
"The blood OF the oppressors."
"Sarasvati! Sarasyau,"
The tempest of fanatic passion
lulled for a moment by that still pas
sionless voice, broke out afresh.
Hurst felt il rise up behind him like
a demoniac force and his eyes, drawn
irresistibly from the living idol. Ell
countered tho worshipper. who still
crouched at the foot OF the altar He'll
ish In its triumph. its reyengeful &C.
tasy. tragic in It's unconscious sur
ering, Rama Pals face was raised
now to the light. He smiled, but
in the sunken eyes there was that
prescience OF death which Is never
without It's pathos, its terrible appeal.
And between hts brows was the mark
of Vishnu. Hurst sprang 20 his feet.
He tore the Disgusting turban from
his head and leaped on 20 the first
step OF the altar.
"Sarasvati, Sarasvatil" he called
imperatively as one crying to a sleep
er. Sarasyati,"
As still somber pool is broken
into hundred lights BY the first ray
OF the rising sun. % the ruthless
hatred In the once lovely face broke
and passed. changing from the limo
cent wonder OF an awakened child 70
an immeasurable tenderness. Slowly.
as though lifted from a stupor by
some power outside herself she rose
her arms outstretched in a movement
OF blind seeking. her eyes still turned
TO the shadows.
"Sarasyati!" Hurst repeated. Look
at me-recognize me--for the sake OF
all that was and Is between US. Saras-
vatl, my wife"
He had spoken in English, con
sciously, purposely. A silence. appal-
ling In It's suddenness. had fallen on
the paralyzed multitude behind him
Rama Pal had also risen, and Hurst
felt his presence like an overshad-
owing destiny. He felt the full sig
nifcance OF the slow waiting smile
which had dawned over the dark fea-
lures, but he had lost the knowledge
OF fear. He had weighed the material
against the ideal and the material had
Desen found wanting The mere facts
OF life and death had become nsignih-
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