The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1923-01-21

length mounted the marble terrace
upon which the tomb itself stands. /
went around to the Jumna side, for
the moon was riding that way.
Far off in the blue mists 1 could
see the outline of the grim old for
tress Below me the river flowed
smoothly, broken here and there by
patches Of sand upon which in the
daytime those unspeakable vultures
await the occasional religious suicide.
Beauty and horror is the superlative;.
that'a India. There was not the
slightest ripple to disturb or defect
the perfect image of the moon.
I turned and leaned against the
parapet, my elbows propping me, and
gazed at the Incompatible beauty of
those bubbles of marble" spangled
with the irridescent sparkle of dew.
was happy and contented, for ap-
parently l was all alone. AT any
rate, there was no busting tourists
about with their Internal Grand" or
"WonderfulnA If there was any other
visitor, he was doing what l was, CIV
ing his soul drink.
There is a bit of magic in marbles
at night. Have you ever noticed it?
You cannot see where the marble
ends and the sky begins: all outlines
are nebulous. Human beings. so long
as they remain motionless, are diff
fieult to seat least in the vicinity
of the Tai Mahal at the season I
speak of, when everyone wears white
or military khaki.
Imagine my surprise when, scarce
ly three feet from where / stood,
came a pleasant English voice. !
stared, and out of the mist gradually
appeared the form of an English Of
ficer, his pith helmet nnder his arm
Lovely beyond words, isn't it?"
TT is"
Il wonder, has it ever occurred to
you that it would be fine thing to
die close to something as beautiful
as this tomb is?'
I moved toward him curiously.
That's rather an odd remark"
said bluntly. Beauty makes for
living, not for dying"
"Oh, it was merely a bit of poetry
in me, trying to express itself. But
the idea always gets hold of me
when l stand here. India writes her
poetry in marble"
And 1 prefer it to the Anglo
Saxon brand" 1 returned.
He laughed and put on his helmet.
I have in all spent about six years
in the Orient. Yet this was the first
instance of the kind; an English Of
ficer had spoken to me without adj.
vances on my part.
rs this your first view of it?"
he asked presently.
Indeed, no. / have stood here an
even hundred times. 1t is compelling
magic"
We fell to discussing Shah Jahan.
his prison-room in the fortress, his
melancholy death, the. favorite wife
for whom this neutrality-suspicious. was
built. His voice was young, but his
face remained in obscurity. Feeling
+ that conversation was about to die
permanently, 1 gave him my name.
"Dr. Gordon Craig?"
Eyes"
where are you putting upT'
"At the Cecil"
ALL That accounts for my miss
ing you. You are just up from
Udaipur. where they've had a bit of
the plague; and you have in your
pocket letter of introduction to me
from DR.. O'Hara. And you haven,
presented it. / like that. like men
who don't care a hang for strangers,
who walk alone, who never stand in
crowds but elbow through them"
my apologies / said; but the
truth Is, didn't want to be put up
at the club-I didn't want to meet
anyone. Outside my work, I'm rather
an irresponsible duffer. Hike to feel