Evening star., 1917-05-27
LE OF THE MANCHUs BENEVOLENCE

through the half-open door of the
dining room.
1 called once more, louder this time
'Mascasenhas. What's the matter with
you answer?"
But there was no sound-only faint
rustling and swishing and cracking as
his fingers swept through the masses
in the trunk. Still he kept on search
ing. every now and then dropping an
article OF wearing apparel on the floor.
turned on the electric light. 1t
glaring light. But the Goanese did not
turn.
l spoke again: shouted at the top
OF my lungs; but the man did not
my presence.
Walking forward. sharply bringing
down the full weight of my feet. I
passed to one side of him. between the
shadow of my body fell on his face
Ike a black pail. But he did not
notice IL.
Suddenly he gave short. suppressed
Cry.
1t was an eerie. unearthly sound; a
dead cry with a ghastly affectation of
lffe-the cry of slaughtered soul.
l raised my hand, about to grip the
him savagely into consciousness
But my subconscious mind controlled
my nerves and my body before they
mad time to act. In that short interval
/ decided that would watch and OBJ
serve. l would not interfere
Mascasenhas Strengthened himself. I
saw that his fingers were tightly
c!utched round something-around the
in the trunk. He drew it forth with
n sudden, tearing jerk, tumbling "A
dozen things pellmell on the floor as
he dragged it out.
TIoA
flung the thing across his shoulders
1t fell in long, swishing, graceful
waves: folded and nodded itself to his
slim figure like garment which was
ms by right OF ancient possession and
ancient usage. 1t seemed to be part of
himself.
1t was a ceremonial robe, such as the
priests OF Doorgha wear on occasions
casions when they sacrifice a human
body on the reeking altar of the black
faced goddess.
| gave a cry Of rage and hatred. In
made for the mans throat. But again
! controlled myself. For Mascasenhas
had turned and stood facing me-
And his eyes were tightly closed, so
tightly that little puckered lines ran
from the sockets toward the ears.
The man was sleep-walker, l said to
myself.
Again I raised my hand, about to
touch him. to shake him. And then I
remembered having read somewhere
that 1T is a very dangerous thing to
awaken a somnambulist too suddenly
All at once Mascasenhas stopped in
his tracks. His body swayed forward.
and his head dropped n little to one
ders. the tense clutching of his hands.
the intensified pucker Of his tightly
closed eyelids, his whole attitude ex-
pressed the most intense listening. In
stinctively I caught my breath. bent
forward and listened.
Then it came.
Gradually, imperceptibly and very
slowly, dull-booming und-vibrations
a far distance. They were not palpable.
] could not tell II they were the echo
ing resonance of human voices or of in
struments. l knew that 1t could not
nearest pagoda was miles away. across
the river in Kowloon, and there were no
Chinese temples In the European Sec
tion of Hongkong.
Suddenly the vibrations snapped off
There was a second of clogging silence.
I watched Mascasenhas In absolute
fascination.
smile came on his face which
Strengthened the fleshy curve of his lips
into a thin, sardonic line. The contour
of his soft countenance seemed to hard
en- and stiffen; his rounded cheekbones
seemed to jut themselves into bony
HIS oxuko eyes mar
rowed into MongolIan slits. The usual
servility of his facial expression gave
way to wolfike snarl. The man was
changing into semblance OF Hussain
Khan. Even his body grew, filed out
and expanded in stature and massive
ness.
Mascasenhas, his eyes still tightly
closed. walked past me again without
sensing my presence. There was now
dignity and certain massiveness in
his carriage which he had never had
in his waking hours. He walked over
to the dressing table. l followed close
behind. intent on observing his every
act and gesture.
He opened the top drawer of his
dressing table; his fingers groped and
fumbled for Il moment: then he brought
out a fiat, green porcelain jar and a
small, pointed brush made Of yak hair,
such as the Kulu Brahmans use
And then, with quick, mastery
strokes, as IL doing something which
had become second nature to him, he
painted on his forehead the scarlet
caste mark Of the God of the Invincibly
strong .Arr1s.
MAscasenhas stepped back from the