Keeping under the shadow of the trees so as not to attract the attention of any one, the rajah's heir followed the crowd. It was at once the gayest and the most orderly crowd that he had ever beheld. As he went on it grew thicker. Beautiful white kine, with garlanded horns, moved amongst them; flocks of white pigeons hovered overhead, alighting wherever there was a vacant space, and taking toll from the stores of yellow grain that were spread out on sheets at the doors of the houses; and the lowing of the quiet beasts, and the whirr of the doves' wings blended pleasantly with the buzz and rumour of the city. Subdul Khan urged his master to show himself; but he kept in shadow still. He was interested and moved as he had never been before. He felt more strongly than ever the mysterious kinship between himself and these people. He was tempted to prolong the dream-like sensations of the moment, and to put off the time when it would be necessary for him to act. Moving on under the grateful shelter of the trees, with the unconscious crowd about him, he was aware of coming into a finer part of the city. Large and lofty houses, which were very much in the gingerbread style of architecture, being decorated lavishly with balconies or pavilions and pretty perforated stone lattices, stood back from the road, and here and there, as, going with the stream of the people, he followed the broad main road, he caught glimpses of quiet side streets and little open squares, surrounded with lighted houses, all in the same fantastic style. 'This is like a magnified toy city,' he said to himself. And now he had traversed the full length of the broad high road that leads from the principal gate to the market-place, and the avenue of trees which had been sheltering him from observation came to an end abruptly. Here for a few moments he pulled up. To plunge into the sea of light and movement that lay before him would be to attract the attention of the crowd, and before doing so he wished to understand what was going on. The market place, of wide extent and planted here and there with groups of trees, was the centre from which the principal streets of the city radiated. It was here that all the fun of the evening culminated. After a little observation, Tom made out that the festival had to do with Rama, hero of the great Indian epic. His name was to be heard on every side. Processions of women, decked with garlands of flowers, were making the round of the market place, chanting his praises; men in long white robes, and elevated on small platforms above the heads of the people, were reciting fragments of the Ramayana; and in booths, closely surrounded with eager crowds, pictures of the hero and the companions of his exile were being exhibited.