The perfection of the little home in the gardens of the temple was like singing in the hearts of the lovers.... As they entered, the Name, marvellously intoned, reached them from the figure which had moved but a moment before, but they could not see clearly in the dim twilight. When the candles were brought, Routledge found that it was Sekar, the Hindu Master. So ancient and withered was he, that his sitting erect on a mat of _kusa_ grass seemed a miracle. Rawder served them with food and drink; and afterward, outside, the Three talked long at the edge of the fountain. Always, from within, they heard the ineffable syllable, OM, at intervals, like a distant sound of the sea on a rocky beach. From the huts of the afflicted there was steady silence. At last the meditation was broken, and they heard quaveringly from Sekar within these words in Tibetan. Rawder translated hastily: “My son, my _chela_!... To-morrow we arise and ascend the goodly mountains to our Long Home. We are very weary, and I have seen that our work is finished here.” The Three entered. Sekar beheld them. After a moment, Sekar spoke: “And this is the friend of my _chela_; and this, the woman?” Rawder bowed. “To-morrow, in the first light,” the Hindu said fervently, “my _chela_ and I depart for the Hills where the Snows are--where none may follow. And you, man and woman, go back to the world.” Noreen turned a quick glance from Routledge to Rawder. “Ask him,” she said swiftly to the latter, “if there is not a great work for us to do here in the Leper Valley!” The face of the bravest man was frightened, ghastly, as he interpreted. The eyes of Routledge were fixed upon the woman as never before. “No,” the Hindu said. “We have left our disciples here among the Chinese. The Valley will be sweetened by them. You, man and woman, have a greater work in the world, as my _chela_ and I have a greater work--far above the world!” Deep into the night the Three listened to the music of the fountain, in the pure ardor of the lilies; and there was a moment in which Rawder wept.... In the full light of morning, the Four were at the parting of their ways. “Remember,” said the bravest man, “always, to you both, whom I have had the joy to make One, goes out constantly--the dearest of my heart--from the Hills or from the Stars!” Routledge and Noreen watched, as he helped his Master--until the two were lost in the winding, rising trail. Then they looked down, a last time, upon the silence and sunrise which brooded upon the Leper Valley. END. FOOTNOTE: [A] This was in 1902. Mr. Olcott has since died. Popular Copyright Books AT MODERATE PRICES Any of the following titles can be bought of your bookseller at the price you paid for this volume