te; Phyllis on her mother's knee; the
others in the car on ahead--including a tourist of note--outriders
before and behind, clearing a pathway through the press. Vernon, jigging
on his feet, was lost in wonder. Roy, like Aruna, said little. Only Thea
kept up a low ripple of talk with her babe....

By now, not only the city was alight, but the enclosing hills, where
bonfires laughed in flame. Jewelled coronets twinkled on bastions of
the Tiger Fort. Threads of fire traced every curve and line of Jai
Singh's tomb. And on either side of the carriage, the crowd swayed and
hummed; laughing, jesting, boasting; intoxicated with the spirit of
festival, that found an echo in Aruna's heart and rioted in her veins.
To-night she felt merged in India, Eastern to the core; capable, almost,
of wondering--could she put it away from her, even at the bidding of
Roy----?

On they drove, away from crowded pavements, towards the Man Sagar Lake,
where ruined temples and palaces dreamed and gleamed, knee deep in the
darkling water; where jackals prowled and cranes nested and muggers
dozed unheeding. At a point of vantage above the Lake, they halted and
sat there awhile in darkness--a group of silent shadows. Words did not
meet the case. Even Vernon ceased his jigging and baby Phyllis uttered
no sound: for she had fallen asleep.

Aruna, resting an elbow on the side of the carriage, sat lost in a
dream....

Suddenly, electrically, she was aware of contact with Roy's coat-sleeve.
He had leaned forward to catch a particular effect, and was probably not
aware of his trespassing arm; for he did not shift it till he had gazed
his fill. Then with a long sigh, he leaned back again. But Aruna's dream
was shattered by sensations too startingly real to be ignored....

Once, driving back, as they passed under an electric globe, she caught
his eyes on her face, and they exchanged a smile. Did he know----? Did
he ever feel--like that?

Near Sir Lakshman's house they stopped again and Roy leaned towards her.

"I'll be quick as lightning--don't stir till I come," he said--and
vanished.

* * * * *

Some fifteen minutes later, she stood alone in the jewelled darkness,
awaiting him; her own flickering jewel held between her hands. She had
brought it with her, complete; matches and a tiny bottle of oil, stowed
in a cardboard box. Mrs Leigh--angel of goodness--had lit the wick with
her own hand--'for luck.' How Roy had mad