the hungry stones and other stories-第3部分

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One　evening　I　decided　to　go　out　on　my　horseI　do　not　know　who　implored　me　to　stay…but　I　would　listen　to　no　entreaties　that　day。　　My　English　hat　and　coat　were　resting　on　a　rack；　and　I　was　about　to　take　them　down　when　a　sudden　whirlwind；　crested　with　the　sands　of　the　Susta　and　the　dead　leaves　of　the　Avalli　hills；　caught　them　up；　and　whirled　them　round　and　round；　while　a　loud　peal　of　merry　laughter　rose　higher　and　higher；　striking　all　the　chords　of　mirth　till　it　died　away　in　the　land　of　sunset。

I　could　not　go　out　for　my　ride；　and　the　next　day　I　gave　up　my　queer　English　coat　and　hat　for　good。

That　day　again　at　dead　of　night　I　heard　the　stifled　heart…breaking　sobs　of　some　oneas　if　below　the　bed；　below　the　floor；　below　the　stony　foundation　of　that　gigantic　palace；　from　the　depths　of　a　dark　damp　grave；　a　voice　piteously　cried　and　implored　me：　〃Oh；　rescue　me！　　Break　through　these　doors　of　hard　illusion；　deathlike　slumber　and　fruitless　dreams；　place　by　your　side　on　the　saddle；　press　me　to　your　heart；　and；　riding　through　hills　and　woods　and　across　the　river；　take　me　to　the　warm　radiance　of　your　sunny　rooms　above！〃

Who　am　I？　　Oh；　how　can　I　rescue　thee？　　What　drowning　beauty；　what　incarnate　passion　shall　I　drag　to　the　shore　from　this　wild　eddy　of　dreams？　　O　lovely　ethereal　apparition！　　Where　didst　thou　flourish　and　when？〃　　By　what　cool　spring；　under　the　shade　of　what　date…groves；　wast　thou　bornin　the　lap　of　what　homeless　wanderer　in　the　desert？　　What　Bedouin　snatched　thee　from　thy　mother's　arms；　an　opening　bud　plucked　from　a　wild　creeper；　placed　thee　on　a　horse　swift　as　lightning；　crossed　the　burning　sands；　and　took　thee　to　the　slave…market　of　what　royal　city？　And　there；　what　officer　of　the　Badshah；　seeing　the　glory　of　thy　bashful　blossoming　youth；　paid　for　thee　in　gold；　placed　thee　in　a　golden　palanquin；　and　offered　thee　as　a　present　for　the　seraglio　of　his　master？　And　O；　the　history　of　that　place！　　The　music　of　the　sareng；　the　jingle　of　anklets；　the　occasional　flash　of　daggers　and　the　glowing　wine　of　Shiraz　poison；　and　the　piercing　flashing　glance！　　What　infinite　grandeur；　what　endless　　servitude！

The　slave…girls　to　thy　right　and　left　waved　the　chamar　as　diamonds　flashed　from　their　bracelets；　the　Badshah；　the　king　of　kings；　fell　on　his　knees　at　thy　snowy　feet　in　bejewelled　shoes；　and　outside　the　terrible　Abyssinian　eunuch；　looking　like　a　messenger　of　death；　but　clothed　like　an　angel；　stood　with　a　naked　sword　in　his　hand！　　Then；　O；　thou　flower　of　the　desert；　swept　away　by　the　blood…stained　dazzling　ocean　of　grandeur；　with　its　foam　of　jealousy；　its　rocks　and　shoals　of　intrigue；　on　what　shore　of　cruel　death　wast　thou　cast；　or　in　what　other　land　more　splendid　and　more　cruel？

Suddenly　at　this　moment　that　crazy　Meher　Ali　screamed　out：　〃Stand　back！　Stand　back！！　　All　is　false！　　All　is　false！！〃　　I　opened　my　eyes　and　saw　that　it　was　already　light。　　My　chaprasi　came　and　handed　me　my　letters；　and　the　cook　waited　with　a　salam　for　my　orders。

I　said；　〃No；　I　can　stay　here　no　longer。〃　　That　very　day　I　packed　up；　and　moved　to　my　office。　　Old　Karim　Khan　smiled　a　little　as　he　saw　me。　　I　felt　nettled；　but　said　nothing；　and　fell　to　my　work。

As　evening　approached　I　grew　absent…minded；　I　felt　as　if　I　had　an　appointment　to　keep；　and　the　work　of　examining　the　cotton　accounts　seemed　wholly　useless；　even　the　Nizamat　of　the　Nizam　did　not　appear　to　be　of　much　worth。　　Whatever　belonged　to　the　present；　whatever　was　moving　and　acting　and　working　for　bread　seemed　trivial；　meaningless；　and　contemptible。

I　threw　my　pen　down；　closed　my　ledgers；　got　into　my　dog…cart；　and　drove　away。　　I　noticed　that　it　stopped　of　itself　at　the　gate　of　the　marble　palace　just　at　the　hour　of　twilight。　　With　quick　steps　I　climbed　the　stairs；　and　entered　the　room。

A　heavy　silence　was　reigning　within。　　The　dark　rooms　were　looking　sullen　as　if　they　had　taken　offence。　　My　heart　was　full　of　contrition；　but　there　was　no　one　to　whom　I　could　lay　it　bare；　or　of　whom　I　could　ask　forgiveness。　　I　wandered　about　the　dark　rooms　with　a　vacant　mind。　　I　wished　I　had　a　guitar　to　which　I　could　sing　to　the　unknown：　　〃O　fire；　the　poor　moth　that　made　a　vain　effort　to　fly　away　has　come　back　to　thee！　Forgive　it　but　this　once；　burn　its　wings　and　consume　it　in　thy　flame！〃

Suddenly　two　tear…drops　fell　from　overhead　on　my　brow。　　Dark　masses　of　clouds　overcast　the　top　of　the　Avalli　hills　that　day。　　The　gloomy　woods　and　the　sooty　waters　of　the　Susta　were　waiting　in　terrible　suspense　and　in　an　ominous　calm。　　Suddenly　land；　water；　and　sky　shivered；　and　a　wild　tempest…blast　rushed　howling　through　the　distant　pathless　woods；　showing　its　lightning…teeth　like　a　raving　maniac　who　had　broken　his　chains。　　The　desolate　halls　of　the　palace　banged　their　doors；　and　moaned　in　the　bitterness　of　anguish。

The　servants　were　all　in　the　office；　and　there　was　no　one　to　light　the　lamps。　　The　night　was　cloudy　and　moonless。　　In　the　dense　gloom　within　I　could　distinctly　feel　that　a　woman　was　lying　on　her　face　on　the　carpet　below　the　bedclasping　and　tearing　her　long　dishevelled　hair　with　desperate　fingers。　　Blood　was　tricking　down　her　fair　brow；　and　she　was　now　laughing　a　hard；　harsh；　mirthless　laugh；　now　bursting　into　violent　wringing　sobs；　now　rending　her　bodice　and　striking　at　her　bare　bosom；　as　the　wind　roared　in　through　the　open　window；　and　the　rain　poured　in　torrents　and　soaked　her　through　and　through。

All　night　there　was　no　cessation　of　the　storm　or　of　the　passionate　cry。　I　wandered　from　room　to　room　in　the　dark；　with　unavailing　sorrow。　　Whom　could　I　console　when　no　one　was　by？　　Whose　was　this　intense　agony　of　sorrow？　　Whence　arose　this　inconsolable　grief？

And　the　mad　man　cried　out：　〃Stand　back！　　Stand　back！！　　All　is　false！　All　is　false！！〃

I　saw　that　the　day　had　dawned；　and　Meher　Ali　was　going　round　and　round　the　palace　with　his　usual　cry　in　that　dreadful　weather。　　Suddenly　it　came　to　me　that　perhaps　he　also　had　once　lived　in　that　house；　and　that；　though　he　had　gone　mad；　he　came　there　every　day；　and　went　round　and　round；　fascinated　by　the　weird　spell　cast　by　the　marble　demon。

Despite　the　storm　and　rain　I　ran　to　him　and　asked：　〃Ho；　Meher　Ali；　what　is　false？〃

The　man　answered　nothing；　but　pushing　me　aside　went　round　and　round　with　his　frantic　cry；　like　a　bird　flying　fascinated　about　the　jaws　of　a　snake；　and　made　a　desperate　effort　to　warn　himself　by　repeating：　〃Stand　back！　　Stand　back！！　　All　is　false！　　All　is　false！！〃

I　ran　like　a　mad　man　through　the　pelting　rain　to　my　office；　and　asked　Karim　Khan：　〃Tell　me　the　meaning　of　all　this！〃

What　I　gathered　from　that　old　man　was　this：　That　at　one　time　countless　unrequited　passions　and　unsatisfied　longings　and　lurid　flames　of　wild　blazing　pleasure　raged　within　that　palace；　and　that　the　curse　of　all　the　heart…aches　and　blasted　hopes　had　made　its　every　stone　thirsty　and　hungry；　eager　to　swallow　up　like　a　famished　ogress　any　living　man　who　might　chance　to　approach。　　Not　one　of　those　who　lived　there　for　three　consecutive　nights　could　escape　these　cruel　jaws；　save　Meher　Ali；　who　had　escaped　at　the　cost　of　his　reason。

I　asked：　〃Is　there　no　means　whatever　of　my　release？〃　The　old　man　said：　〃There　is　only　one　means；　and　that　is　very　difficult。　　I　will　tell　you　what　it　is；　but　first　you　must　hear　the　history　of　a　young　Persian　girl　who　once　lived　in　that　pleasure…dome。　　A　stranger　or　a　more　bitterly　heart…rending　tragedy　was　never　enacted　on　this　earth。〃

Just　at　this　moment　the　coolies　announced　that　the　train　was　coming。　　So　soon？　　We　hurriedly　packed　up　our　luggage；　as　the　tram　steamed　in。　　An　English　gentleman；　apparently　just　aroused　from　slumber；　was　looking　out　of　a　first…class　carriage　endeavouring　to　read　the　name　of　the　station。　As　soon　as　he　caught　sight　of　our　fellow…passenger；　he　cried；　〃Hallo；〃　and　took　him　into　his　own　compartment。　　As　we　got　into　a　second…class　carriage；　we　had　no　chance　of　finding　out　who　the　man　was　nor　what　was　the　end　of　his　story。

I　said；　〃The　man　evidently　took　us　for　fools　and　imposed　upon　us　out　of　fun。　　The　story　is　pure　fabrication　from　start　to　finish。〃　　The　discussion　that　followed　ended　in　a　lifelong　rupture　between　my　theosophist　kinsman　and　myself。



THE　VICTORY

She　was　the　Princess　Ajita。　　And　the　court　poet　of　King　Narayan　had　never　seen　her。　　On　the　day　he　recited　a　new　poem　to　the　king　he　would　raise　his　voice　just　to　that　pitch　which　could　be　heard　by　unseen　hearers　in　the　screened　balcony　high　above　the　hall。　　He　sent　up　his　song　towards　the　star…land　out　of　his　reach；　where；　circled　with　light；　the　planet　who　ruled　his　destiny　shone　unknown　and　out　of　ken。

He　would　espy　some　shadow　moving　behind　the　veil。　　A　tinkling　sound　would　come　to　his　car　from　afar；　and　would　set　him　dreaming　of　the　ankles　whose　tiny　golden　bells　sang　at　each　step。　　Ah；　the　rosy　red　tender　feet　that　walked　the　dust　of　the　earth　like　God's　mercy　on　the　fallen！　　The　poet　had　placed　them　on　the　altar　of　his　heart；　where　he　wove　his　songs　to　the　tune　of　those　golden　bells。　　Doubt　never　arose　in　his　mind　as　to　whose　shadow　it　was　that　moved　behind　the　screen；　and　whose　anklets　they　were　that　sang　to　the　time　of　his　beating　heart。

Manjari；　the　maid　of　the　princess；　passed　by　the　poet's　house　on　her　way　to　the　river；　and　she　never