of her voice, its high passion, the strong
beauty of her presence woke a poignant longing in my heart. I said;

"I cannot leave you. You are the only guide I can follow. Let us search
together--you always on before."

"Your way lies there," she pointed to the high mountains. "And mine to
the plains, and if we chose our own we should wander. But we shall
meet again in the way and time that will be best and with knowledge
so enlarged that what we have seen already will be like an empty dream
compared to daylight truth. If you knew what waits for you you would not
delay one moment."

She stood radiant beneath the deodars, a figure of Hope, pointing
steadily to the heights. I knew her words were true though as yet I
could not tell how. I knew that whereas we had seen the Wonderful in
beautiful though local forms there is a plane where the Formless may be
apprehended in clear dream and solemn vision-the meeting of spirit with
Spirit. What that revelation would mean I could not guess--how should
I?--but I knew the illusion we call death and decay would wither before
it. There is a music above and beyond the Ninth Vibration though I must
love those words for ever for what their hidden meaning gave me.

I took her hand and held it. Strange--beyond all strangeness that that
story of an ancient sorrow should have made us what we were to each
other--should have opened to me the gates of that Country where she
wandered content. For the first time I had realized in its fulness the
loveliness of this crystal nature, clear as flowing water to receive and
transmit the light--itself a prophecy and fulfilment of some higher race
which will one day inhabit our world when it has learnt the true values.
She drew a flower from her breast and gave it to me. It lies before me
white and living as I write these words.

I sprang down the road and mounted, giving the word to march. The men
shouted and strode on--our faces to the Shipki Pass and what lay beyond.

We had parted.

Once, twice, I looked back, and standing in full sunlight, she waved her
hand.

We turned the angle of the rocks.

What I found--what she found is a story strange and beautiful which
I may tell one day to those who care to hear. That for me there were
pauses, hesitancies, dreads, on the way I am not concerned to deny,
for so it must always be with the roots of the old beliefs of fear and
ignorance buried in the soil of our hearts and ready to throw out their
poi