oughts for hers in his own mind; as if she spoke from
another lobe of his own brain. Her words expressed himself.

"I thought you would be here," she told him presently. "I wanted to
see you again."

She was flushed from crossing the broad area tranced in noon heat; and
now the green cool of the jungle was sweet to her, and they were close
together, but walking not so slowly as last night. . . . Loneliness
came to them when they reached the empty place where the wounded one
had lain in the shelter of the rock. They felt strangely excluded from
something that had belonged to them. All the wide branches above were
empty. Still that was only one breath of chill. Tides of life brimmed
high between them; they had vast mercies to spare for outer sorrows.

"He may not have done so well after being moved," she whispered.

Skag was thinking of the cough he had heard. The monkeys had
understood that. . . . Just now the younger of the two priests of
Hanuman appeared magically. There was quiet friendliness deep in his
calm, desireless eyes.

"All is well," he told them. "They have carried their king to a yet
more secret place, where we may not--"

He did not finish that sentence but added: "Only we who serve them may
go there. All is well. They would not have moved him, had they not
been sure that life was established in him."

The priest did not linger. Then Carlin wanted to know everything--how
India had called Skag at the very first. . . . Was it all jungle and
animal interest; or was he called a little to the holy men? Did he not
yearn to help in the great famine and fever districts; long to enter
the deep depravities of the lower cities with healing?

Skag had listened in a kind of passion. Wonderful unfoldment in regard
to these things had come to him from Cadman Sahib, but as Carlin
touched upon them, they loomed up in his mind like the slow approach to
cities from a desert. Carlin's eyes, turned often to his, were like
all the shadows of the jungle gathered to two points of essential dark,
and pinned by a star veiled in its own light.

"I thought it was only the wild animals that called to me, but now I
know better," he said. "And my friend Cadman, who has gone, opened so
much to me. He often spoke of the holy men, until one had to be
interested--"

Carlin halted and drew back looking at him with a kind of still
strength all her own.

"You do not know that the natives think _you_ are somethi