Hours afterwards I sat on my balcony that overhung the soft lapping
waters below, still deeply thinking. Often at the end of the day's toil
I sought this retreat and refreshed my soul in the incomparable beauty
of the view.
In that hour the tender spirit of night folded me about. Out of the
mystery of the vast blue I heard faintly a new message, potent with
promise, charged with possibilities. The earth was wrapped in a robe of
gray, made of mist and illusion, and its every sound was hushed by the
lullaby of the night-wind. Dim, silent mountains clustered about the
silver waters, as great watchmen guarding a precious jewel.
Toward me across the moon-misted sea came a procession of ghostly
sails. Every ship seemed to bear troops of white-robed maidens and, as
they floated past, they gaily waved their hands to me, calling for
comradeship and understanding, a wide-open heart, freedom to love.
IV
JANE GRAY BRINGS HOME A MAN
During the weeks following my visit I had good reason to believe that
Kishimoto San's power to command was not in working order. Zura failed
to put in an appearance for her lessons, nor did any message come from
the ancient house by the sea to explain the delay.
I could only guess how things stood between the grandfather and the
alien child.
Every minute of my day was filled with classes, demands and sick babies,
but between duties and when Jane was elsewhere I snatched time to
inspect eagerly every visitor who clicked a sandal or shoe-heel on the
rough stones of my crooked front path. I kept up the vigil for my
desired pupil until I heard one of my adoring housemaids confide to the
other that she had "the great grief to relate Jenkins Sensie was getting
little illness in her head. She condescended to respond to the honorable
knock at her door--and she a great teacher lady!"
After this I transferred my observations to the crescent-shaped window
at one end of my study. This ornamental opening in the wall commanded a
full view of the main highway of Hijiyama. Through it I could look down
far below upon the street life which was a panorama quietly intense, but
gay and hopeful. The moving throng resembled a great bouquet swayed by a
friendly breeze, so bright in coloring with the flower-sellers,
white-garbed jinricksha men, vegetable vendors, and troops of butterfly
children that any tone of softer hue attracted immediate attention.
This led me to a discovery one day when I caug
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