yes stared up into those of the
stone woman who looked down at her and seemed to laugh with joy at her
long coveted prize.

In every corner black shapes danced; advancing, retreating, springing
towards the roof and vanishing utterly. The place seemed infested with
goblins, or devils, things of untold evilness and vice, although, in
reality, they were but the shadows thrown by the little lights which
were like tongues licking the lips of darkness in sensuous anticipation
of the coming feast of blood.

The old priest stood looking up at his god with perplexity in his
sunken eyes.

Arrayed in snow-white garment, with long hair hanging down, he held the
knife of sacrifice in one hand, and in the other the sacred _roomal_.

The terrible picture shone softly in the light of the full moon which
struck straight down upon the altar through a hole in the ruined roof.

"Tell thy servant thy pleasure, O Black One!" prayed the priest,
swaying slightly to and fro. "Make him understand it the _roomal_
shall be knotted about the neck of this white sacrifice, or if the
knife shall draw a necklace of red about the white neck and upon the
white breast. Give me an answer, O Mother, that I may right the wrong
of many moons ago. A sign, a sign, O Mother!"

As he spoke; and for no apparent reason, Leonie's hands unclasped, her
arms opened and fell towards her sides, leaving the beautiful breast
bare with the jewel in shape and colour of a cat's eye winking craftily
with the cunning and knowledge of the sins of all ages, just above the
heart.

The priest shouted in worship, and his words, caught, echoed and
re-echoed from the dome, drowned the sound of footsteps running at high
speed across the flower-strewn floor.

Madhu Krishnaghar, naked save for the turban which bound his handsome
head and the loin cloth which girt the slender middle, sped like the
wind to the rescue of his beloved.

In the black shades of the jungle, understanding at last that for him
there could be no life outside the life of the white woman he loved,
and no happiness outside her happiness, he had raced Time down the
jungle path, through the outer gates and temple door, pausing not for
the fraction of a second; realising, as he ran, that upon his speed
alone depended the life of his beloved. And even as the priest flung
back his arm with a scream of ecstasy, the knife was wrenched out of
his hand from behind.

O Madhu, you splendid heathen, who defied t