按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
e and looked about me； strange … most strange； ruin encircled me everywhere。 The blue sky was the roof。 What I had thought a palace lost in the jungle； fit to receive its King should he enter； was now a broken hall of State； the shattered pillars were festooned with waving weeds； the many coloured lantana grew between the fallen blocks of marble。 Even the sculptures on the walls were difficult to decipher。 Faintly I could trace a hand； a foot； the orb of a woman's bosom； the gracious outline of some young God； standing above a crouching worshipper。 No more。 Yes； and now I saw above me as the dawn touched it the form of the Dweller in the Windhya Hills； Parvati the Beautiful； leaning softly over something breathing music at her feet。 Yet I knew I could trace the almost obliterated sculpture only because I had already seen it defined in perfect beauty。 A deep crack ran across the marble； it was weathered and stained by many rains； and little ferns grew in the crevices； but I could reconstruct every line from my own knowledge。 And how？ The Parvati of Ranipur differed in many important details。 She stood； bending forward； wheras this sweet Lady sat。 Her attendants were small satyr…like spirits of the wilds； piping and fluting； in place of the reclining maiden。 The sweeping scrolls of a great halo encircled her whole person。 Then how could I tell what this neary obliterated carving had been？ I groped for the answer and could not find it。 I doubted…
〃Were such things here as we do speak about？ Or have we eaten of the insane root That takes the reason captive？〃
Memory rushed over me like the sea over dry sands。 A girl … there had been a girl … we had stood with clasped hands to hear a strange music； but in spite of the spiritual intimacy of those moments I could not recall her face。 I saw it cloudy against a background of night and dream； the eyes remote as stars； and so it eluded me。 Only her presence and her words sur… vived； 〃We meet in the Ninth Vibration。 All here is true。〃 But the Ninth Vibration itself was dream…land。 I had never heard the phrase … I could not tell what was meant； nor whether my apprehension was true or false。 I knew only that the night had taken her and the dawn denied her； and that； dream or no dream； I stood there with a pang of loss that even now leaves me wordless。
A bird sang outside in the acacias； clear and shrill for day； and this awakened my senses and lowered me to the plane where I became aware of cold and hunger； and was chilled with dew。 I passed down the tumbled steps that had been a stately ascent the night before and made my way into the jungle by the trail； small and lost in fern； by which we had come。 Again I wandered； and it was high noon before I heard mule bells at a distance； and； thus guided； struck down through the green tangle to find myself； wearied but safe； upon the bridle way that leads to Fagu and the far Shipki。 Two coolies then directed me to The House in the Woods。
All was anxiety there。 Ali Khan had arrived in the night； having found his way under the guidance of blind flight and fear。 He had brought the news that I was lost in the jungle and amid the dwellings of demons。 It was； of course； hopeless to search in the dark； though the khansamah and his man had gone as far as they dared with lanterns and shouting； and with the daylight they tried again and were even now away。 It was useless to reproach the man even if I had cared to do so。 His ready plea was that as far as men were concerned he was as brave as any （which was true enough as I had reason to know later） but that when it came to devilry the Twelve Imaums themselves would think twice before facing it。
〃Inshalla ta…Alla！ （If the sublime God wills！） this unworthy one will one day show the Protector of the poor； that he is a respectable person and no coward； but it is only the Sahibs who laugh in the face of devils。〃
He went off to prepare me some food； consumed with curiosity as to my adventures； and when I had eaten I found my tiny whitewashed cell； for the room was little more； and slept for hours。
Late in the afternoon I waked and looked out。 A； low but glowing sunlight suffused the wild garden reclaimed from the strangle…hold of the jungle and hemmed in with rocks and forest。 A few simple flowers had been planted here and there； but its chief beauty was a mountain stream； brown and clear as the eyes of a dog； that fell from a crag above into a rocky basin； maidenhair ferns growing in such masses about it that it was henceforward scarcely more than a woodland voice。 Beside it two great deodars spread their canopies； and there a woman sat in a low chair； a girl beside her reading aloud。 She had thrown her hat off and the sunshine turned her massed dark hair to bronze。 That was all I could see。 I went out and joined them； taking the note of introduction which Olesen had given me。
I pass over the unessentials of my story； their friendly greetings and sympathy for my adventure。 It set us at ease at once and I knew my stay would be the happier for their presence though it is not every woman one would choose as a companion in the great mountain country。 But what is germane to my purpose must be told； and of this a part is the per… sonality of Brynhild Ingmar。 That she was beautiful I never doubted； though I have heard it disputed and smiled inwardly as the disputants urged lip and cheek and shades of rose and lily； weighing and appraising。 Let me describe her as I saw her or； rather； as I can； adding that even without all this she must still have been beautiful because of the deep significance to those who had eyes to see or feel some mysterious element which mingled itself with her presence comparable only to the delight which the power and spiritual essence of Nature inspires in all but the dullest minds。 I know I cannot hope to convey this in words。 It means little if I say I thought of all quiet lovely solitary things when I looked into her calm eyes； … that when she moved it was like clear springs renewed by flowing； that she seemed the perfect flowering of a day in June； for these are phrases。 Does Nature know her wonders when she shines in her strength？ Does a woman know the infinite meanings her beauty may have for the beholder？ I cannot tell。 Nor can I tell if I saw this girl as she may have seemed to those who read only the letter of the book and are blind to its spirit； or in the deepest sense as she really was in the sight of That which created her and of which she was a part。 Surely it is a proof of the divinity of love that in and for a moment it lifts the veil of so…called reality and shows each to the other mysteriously perfect and inspiring as the world will never see them； but as they exist in the Eternal； and in the sight of those who have learnt that the material is but the dream； and the vision of love the truth。
I will say then； for the alphabet of what I knew but cannot tell； that she had the low broad brows of a Greek Nature Goddess； the hair swept back wing…like from the temples and massed with a noble luxuriance。 It lay like rippled bronze； suggesting something strong and serene in its essence。 Her eyes were clear and gray as water； the mouth sweetly curved above a resolute chin。 It was a face which recalled a modelling in marble rather than the charming pastel and aquarelle of a young woman's colouring； and somehow I thought of it less as the beauty of a woman than as some sexless emanation of natural things； and this impression was strengthened by her height and the long limbs； slender and strong as those of some youth trained in the pentathlon； subject to the severest discipline until all that was superfluous was fined away and the perfect form expressing the true being emerged。 The body was thus more beautiful than the face； and I may note in passing that this is often the case； because the face is more directly the index of the restless and unhappy soul within and can attain true beauty only when the soul is in harmony with its source。
She was a little like her pale and wearied mother。 She might resemble her still more when the sorrow of this world that worketh death should have had its will of her。 I had yet to learn that this would never be … that she had found the open door of escape。
We three spent much time together in the days that followed。 I never tired of their company and I think they did not tire of mine； for my wanderings through the world and my studies in the ancient Indian literatures and faiths with the Pandit Devaswami were of interest to them both though in entirely different ways。 Mrs。 Ingmar was a woman who centred all her interests in books and chiefly in the scientific forms of occult research。 She was no believer in anything outside the range of what she called human experience。 The evidences had convinced her of nothing but a force as yet unclassified in the scientific categories and all her interest lay in the undeveloped powers of brain which might be discovered in the course of ignorant and credulous experiment。 We met therefore on the common ground of rejection of the so…called occultism of the day； though I knew even then； and how infinitely better now； that her constructions were wholly misleading。
Nearly all day she would lie in he