"Why, I saw such a love—but there was no child. They died—in a room at Minglapo’s house.... They did not have time—" "You mean the General—" "Yes—" "His work was finished." "But his woman wanted a baby. She told me long ago—" "Perhaps she saw at the last that it was better to go—" "I am afraid—afraid to-night—tired and done. I won’t fail. I won’t lie down—but I thought he would be here to take me—" "He will come," said Bamban. Romney was looking up at the lustrous film of night. His lips moved again: "He said the builders were coming to lift the earth—that the saints were coming, for he could hear their songs—that the heroes were coming with light about their heads, their voices beautiful with the story of God—that they must come from the love of man and woman here—but they reach that love only to die—" "My master must sleep," said Bamban. "I am very far from sleep," said Romney; but the other pressed him down, and the small hard hand was in his, and there was no yellow and white between them. And almost instantly, Romney slept. He awakened in a smoky red light, started up to see the heads of camels and horses against the east; then a voice: "My son, all is well. You will arise and go to the beloved who waits for you in the hills of my country—not far from this place." The ancient shaven head emerged from the yellow robe, so near that Romney had not perceived it until after the distance had unfolded its objects. Romney leaned forward and took him in his arms. "Tell me again—is she well? Is all well with her?" "Yes—her face turned to us. And now arise and break your fast, my son, for you are worn dark and dry from much fasting. I have brought you milk and fresh fruit, such as the desert does not furnish." Straight north they travelled until noon was high. The white dromedary had an escort of eight camels, including Romney’s pair, and some twenty desert horsemen. They were entirely off travel lines, and Romney realised that the way was kept closed to commerce between Nadiram and Wampli by the desert-parties, chiefly to protect this northern way to the country of Rajananda.... In the afternoon they followed for two hours the path of an ancient river-bed, and entered, when the shadows gathered, a land of rocky hills—the beasts quickened their pace under the scent of water.... At sunset, by a spring, Romney’s camel kneeled. The escort vanished. Bamban unfolded fresh white clothing. Romney was granted the luxury of a bath. Ahead was verdure and a temple. It was low, and there was a walled garden to the side, the green foliage hanging over the stones.... Beyond was a village that looked as if it had been born again from a ruin. It was strange as a dream—cattle feeding peacefully in the dip of land between the temple and the town. Night was creeping in. Even Bamban had vanished. There was silence. Romney emerged from the sheltering leaves of the spring, his eyes fixed upon the temple.... There was a voice: