The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1918-03-15


ing river multiplied the dancing lights
into a million, and the great roof
hurled the din down again to make
confusion with the new din coming up.
Ismail went like rat down a run,
and it became SO dark that King had
to follow by ear. He imagined they
were running back toward the ledge
under the waterfall; yet, when Ismail
called halt at last, painting, CROPPED
behind a great rock for lamp and lit
the wick with a common safety match,
they were in q cave he had never seen
before.
"Where are WEI" King asked.
"Where none dare seek us. Art
thou afraid?" asked Ismail, holding
the lamp to Kings face.
"Kuch dar nahin hal u he answered.
"There is no such thing as fear!"
Suddenly the Afridi blew the lamp
out, and then the darkness became
solid. Thought itself left off less than
yard away.
"Ismailr' he whispered. But Ismail
did not answer him.
He faced about, leaning against the
rock, with the fiat Of both hands
pressed tight against it for the sake
Of its company; and almost at once he
saw a little bright red light glowing
in the distance. It might have been
below him; it was perfectly impossible
to judge, for the darkness was not
measurable.
"Flowers turn to the light" droned
Ismail's voice above sententiously, and
turning, he thought he could see red
eyes peering over the rock. He jumped,
and made a grab for the flowing beard
that surely must be below them, but
he missed.
''Little fish swim to the light"
droned Ismail. moths fly to the
light! Who is a man that he should
know less than they?"
He turned again and stared at the
light. Dimly, very vaguely he could
make out that causeway led down
ward from almost where he stood. He
was convinced that should he try too
climb back Ismail would merely reach
out hand and shove him down again,
and there was no sense in being put
to that indignity. He decided to go
forward, for there was even less sense
in standing still. So he stopped to
feel the floor with his hand before
deciding to go forward. There was
no mistaking the finish given by the
tread of countless feet. He was on a
highway, and there are not often pit
falls where so many feet have been.
For all that he went forward as a
certain Agag once did, and it was
many minutes before he could see q
certain glowing blood-red in the light
behind two lamps, at the top Of flight
of ten stone steps. When he went
quite close he saw carpet down the
middle of the steps, so ancient that
the stone showed through in places;
all the pattern, supposing it ever had
any, was worn or faded away. Carpet
and steps glowed red too. His own
face, and the hands he held in front
of him were red-hot-poker color. Yet
outside the little ellipse Of light the
darkness looked like a thing to lean
against, and the silence was so intense
that he could hear the arteries sing
ing by his ears.
He saw the curtains move slightly,
apparently in a little puff Of wind that
made the lamps waver. Then he walked
up the steps and at the top he stopped
to examine the lamps.
They were bronze, cast, polished and
graved. All round the circumference
Of each bowl were figures in half
relief, representing woman dancing.
She was the woman Of the knife-hilt,
and of the lamps in the arena! But no
two figures Of the dance were alike.
1t was the same woman dancing, but
the artist had chosen twenty differ
ent poses with which to immortalize
his skill, and hers. Both lamps burned
sweet oil with wick, and each had
chimney of horn, not at all unlike
modern lamp chimney. The horn
was stained red.
AS he set the second lamp down he
became aware of subtle, interesting
smell, and memory took him back at
once to Yasmini's room in the Chandni
Chowk in Delhi where he had smelled
it first. 1t was the peculiar scent he
had been told was Yasminis own-a
blend of scents, like chord of music,
in which musk did not predominant.
He took three strides and touched
the curtains, discovering now for the
first time that there were two of them.
divided down the middle. They were
of leather, and though they looked old
as the Hills" themselves, the leather
was supple as good cloth.
"Kurram Khan hal !" he announced.
But the echo was the only answer.
There was no sound beyond the cur
tains. With his heart in his mouth he
parted them with both hands, startled
by the sharp jangle of metal rings on
a rod.
So he stood, with arms outstretched.
staring staring -staring-with eyes
cl-sIIaa rsxsyifflu 10 {oJa - 7oAoxV-