Five minutes later, he was sitting beside his grandfather on the deep
divan, telling him all.

Before setting out, he would not have believed it possible. But
instinctively he knew himself in touch with a quality of love that
matched his own; and the mere telling revived the marvel, the thrill of
that strange and beautiful experience at Chitor....

Sir Lakshman had neither moved nor spoken throughout. Now their eyes met
in a look of deep understanding.

"I am very proud you told me, Roy. It is not easy."

"No. I've not told any one else. I couldn't. But just now--something
seemed to draw it all out of me. I suppose--something in you----"

"Or perhaps--herself! It almost seemed--she was here with us, while you
talked."

"Perhaps--she is here still."

Their voices were lowered, as in the presence of sacred things. Never,
till now, had Roy so keenly felt his individual link with this wonderful
old man, whose blood ran in his veins.

"Grandfather," he asked after a pause, "I suppose it doesn't often
happen--that sort of thing? I suppose most common-sense people would
dismiss it all as--sheer delusion?"

The young simplicity of the question lit a smile in Sir Lakshman's eyes.

"Quite possible. All that is most beautiful in life, most real to saints
and lovers, must seem delusion to those whose hearts and spirits are
merely vassals to the body and the brain. But those who say of the soul,
'It is not,' have still to _prove_ it is not to those who have felt and
known. Also I grant--the other way about. But they speak in different
languages. Kabir says, 'I disclose my soul in what is hidden.' And
again, 'The bird is beyond seeking, yet it is most clearly visible.' For
us, that is living truth. For those others, a mere tangle of words."

"I see." Roy's gaze was riveted on the picture above the writing-table.
"You can't explain colours to the colour-blind. And I suppose
experiences like mine only come to those for whom words like that
are--living truth?"

"Yes--like yours. But there are other kinds; not always true. Because,
in this so sacred matter, clever people, without scruple, have made
capital out of the heart's natural longing; and the dividing line is dim
where falsehood ends and truth begins. So it has all come into suspicion
and contempt. Accept what is freely given, Roy. Do not be tempted to try
and snatch more."

"No--no. I wouldn't if I could." A pause. "_You_ believe it is time ...
what I feel? That