The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1939-02-25
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN


Ransome had passed his own
house and the house OF Raschid Ali
Khan when the darkness came
down suddenly. Il was as if IN A
few moments the trees. the houses.
the familiar landmarks melted INTO
blackness, or as If the waters
themselves had risen and enveloped
everything. For a second. alarmed.
he stopped rowing and thought, 4
must not gete lost. II she should
waken and find herself alone in the
house she might be frightened"
and again. as he had done so many
times during the war. he sought to
take command of himself in a new
way. TO force his body to exert an
extra sense TO guide him straight
to the house.
He could not tell. now in the
darkness, whether the boat was
drifting rapidly or merely swing
ing about in the eddies off the
main current, but presently a clus-
ter Of leaves brushed his face and
reaching out. he seized a branch
and held fast.
How long he remained. shaking
and exhausted. in the Juggling boat
he did not know, for in the black
ness all sense of time seemed to
vanish, but presently he became
aware that a kind of light had
entered the darkness. gradually
more and more apparent. suffusing
dimly the whole air and bringing
a vague black form to the trees
all about him. It was a light that
came downward from the clouds.
the reflection of some fire which
had broken out again in the town.
AS the rosy light increased he
discovered against the sky not far
away in a filigree of black the
great fan of the ancient Java fig
tree that stood near the badmin-
ton court. and knew that if he
could reach the tree itself the rest
would be easy.
There was no use in attempting
to propel the boat with the oars,
so at last he united the cord and.
drawing it and himself from
branch to branch clotted with rub
Dish, he made his way along the
row of banyan trees which bor-
dered the Racecourse road. 1t
was slow business, because the
gilded canopy kept being caught
by the branches. After what
seemed hours he arrived beneath
the tree and there. dripping with
sweat. he waited for moment
to rest. The chill was gone now.
Rowing the boat for the last hun
dred yards, he arrived quickly at
the balcony of the dead house and,
climbing over the rail. he made
the boat fast once more with the
cord of Mr.. Bannerjee's dressing
gown.
She had not gone away. She
was still asleep beneath the net
ting on the bed. stretched out like
a child with one arm thrown over
her head, the short, blonde hair
curly and towsled in the damp.
For a fleeing moment he di-
vined how wonderful it would be
to have been young once as she
was young, to have believed in
| the world as she believed in ii.
That was something he had never
known and would never know now,
because 1t was too late. But he
was aware, too, of the tragedy
which lay in her very youngness,
of what lay before her, thinking
how little she knew of the world,
how little there was of truth be-
tween the reality and the tissue
of that false world she had
created out of her own magma
ton. What would happen to her
when she passed from the one
world into the other?
But the chills began to return
and, going into Mr.. Bannerjee's
room. he rummaged about in the
dim light until he found a dhoti.
After stripping himself and rub
bing himself down with a bed
cover. he put on the dhoti and
returned to the room where Fern
lay sleeping. At the same mo-
ment there was an explosion COM
ing from great distance which
rocked and shattered the wooden
house. And then another and an
other. Bits of plaster fell from
the ceiling about him. and he