So in the meantime, the freedom from interruption, and the dread which
the mere thought of her existence roused in the simple village folk,
conspired to increase Azîzan's faith in her own supernatural power, and
as she sat in the growing dusk no doubt of her own success assailed
her; for the little sahib had returned--during the night. At least so
said the old man, who, with all his craziness, was to be trusted.
Therefore, in less than an hour, he would know all, since the day was
dying down quickly; smothered in a hot haze-like smoke. There was not a
shadow anywhere; only a dull darkness growing momentarily as the dull
darkness had grown upon her mind day by day. For all that she had the
power; the potter might mould the clay, the palace folk might plot and
plan, but she, the woman with the evil eye, was stronger than they!
'Azîz! Oh! thou art there still, Heaven be praised!' The cry roused her
from a sort of dream to find the old man beside her, breathless as from
running, his mild face, seen dimly in the darkness, full of piteous
entreaty. 'Go not from me this night, oh Heart's-joy! Leave me not
again in the storm!'
'The storm! What storm, poor fool!' she asked indifferently.
He laid his trembling hand on her arm. 'Listen! Thou canst hear the
noise of many waters. They came before, so the fathers sang, and made a
new world. Down yonder at the palace, where thou goest, 'twill run like
the race of a river, and the stones of the old wall where thou liest
will be crumbling into it. Go not there to-night, oh, Light of mine
Eyes! It is safe here on the heights.'
'There is no water,' she answered, with a short laugh, 'there will be
none; save in the canal. The sahib will see to that now he hath
returned.'
'How can he see when he is dead----'
'Dead,' she echoed. 'Bah! thou liest! He is not dead. There is no
water, and there is no death----'
She broke off suddenly, silenced by his look as he stood with one hand
raised as if listening. In the breathless air a strange whispering
reached her ear, and like an arrow from a bow, she flew to the gap in
the palisade, whence she could see the dip between the ruins and the
canal bank, and beyond that silver streak again to the bungalow dotted
down upon the level plain.
'_Dohai! Dohai!_'
The Great Cry--the blind human cry of her race for justice burst from
her instinctively. The next moment found her bare-faced in the open on
her way to prove if the old man spoke truth in death also.
'Azîzan! go not! Leave not the House of Safety! It is the Flood of the
Most High! Go not, oh! go not!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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