the ninth vibration-第19节

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；　but　it　is　the　same　…　Krishna　or　Christ。　When　we　hear　the　music　we　follow。　And　we　may　lose　or　gain　heaven。〃

It　might　have　been　her　compelling　personality　…　it　might　have　been　the　marvels　of　beauty　about　me；　but　I　knew　well　I　had　entered　at　some　mystic　gate。　A　pass　word　had　been　spoken　for　me　…　I　was　vouched　for　and　might　go　in。　Only　a　little　way　as　yet。　Enchanted　forests　lay　beyond；　and　perilous　seas；　but　there　were　hints；　breaths　like　the　wafting　of　the　garments　of　unspeakable　Presences。　My　talk　with　Vanna　grew　less　personal；　and　more　introspective。　I　felt　the　touch　of　her　finger…tips　leading　me　along　the　ways　of　Quiet　…　my　feet　brushed　a　shining　dew。　Once；　in　the　twilight　under　the　chenar　trees；　I　saw　a　white　gleaming　and　thought　it　a　swiftly　passing　Being；　but　when　in　haste　I　gained　the　tree　I　found　there　only　a　Ninefold　flower；　white　as　a　spirit　in　the　evening　calm。　I　would　not　gather　it　but　told　Vanna　what　I　had　seen。

〃You　nearly　saw；'　she　said。　〃She　passed　so　quickly。　It　was　the　Snowy　One；　Uma；　Parvati；　the　Daughter　of　the　Himalaya。　That　mountain　is　the　mountain　of　her　lord　…　Shiva。　It　is　natural　she　should　be　here。　I　saw　her　last　night　lean　over　the　height　…　her　face　pillowed　on　her　folded　arms；　with　a　low　star　in　the　mists　of　her　hair。　Her　eyes　were　like　lakes　of　blue　darkness。　Vast　and　wonderful。　She　is　the　Mystic　Mother　of　India。　You　will　see　soon。　You　could　not　have　seen　the　flower　until　now。〃

〃Do　you　know；〃　she　added；　〃that　in　the　mountains　there　are　poppies　of　clear　blue　…　blue　as　turquoise。　We　will　go　up　into　the　heights　and　find　them。〃

And　next　moment　she　was　planning　the　camping　details；　the　men；　the　ponies；　with　a　practical　zest　that　seemed　to　relegate　the　occult　to　the　absurd。　Yet　the　very　next　day　came　a　wonderful　moment。

The　sun　was　just　setting　and；　as　it　were；　suddenly　the　purple　glooms　banked　up　heavy　with　thunder。　The　sky　was　black　with　fury；　the　earth　passive　with　dread。　I　never　saw　such　lightning　…　it　was　continuous　and　tore　in　zigzag　flashes　down　the　mountains　like　rents　in　the　substance　of　the　world's　fabric。　And　the　thunder　roared　up　in　the　mountain　gorges　with　shattering　echoes。　Then　fell　the　rain；　and　the　whole　lake　seemed　to　rise　to　meet　it；　and　the　noise　was　like　the　rattle　of　musketry。　We　were　standing　by　the　cabin　window　and　she　suddenly　caught　my　hand；　and　I　saw　in　a　light　of　their　own　two　dancing　figures　on　the　tormented　water　before　us。　Wild　in　the　tumult；　embodied　delight；　with　arms　tossed　violently　above　their　heads；　and　feet　flung　up　behind　them；　skimming　the　waves　like　seagulls；　they　passed。　Their　sex　I　could　not　tell　…　I　think　they　had　none；　but　were　bubble　emanations　of　the　rejoicing　rush　of　the　rain　and　the　wild　retreating　laughter　of　the　thunder。　I　saw　the　fierce　aerial　faces　and　their　inhuman　glee　as　they　fled　by；　and　she　dropped　my　hand　and　they　were　gone。　Slowly　the　storm　lessened；　and　in　the　west　the　clouds　tore　raggedly　asunder　and　a　flood　of　livid　yellow　light　poured　down　upon　the　lake　…　an　awful　light　that　struck　it　into　an　abyss　of　fire。　Then；　as　if　at　a　word　of　command；　two　glorious　rainbows　sprang　across　the　water　with　the　mountains　for　their　piers；　each　with　its　proper　colours　chorded。　They　made　a　Bridge　of　Dread　that　stood　out　radiant　against　the　background　of　storm　…　the　Twilight　of　the　Gods；　and　the　doomed　gods　marching　forth　to　the　last　fight。　And　the　thunder　growled　sullenly　away　into　the　recesses　of　the　hill　and　the　terrible　rainbows　faded　until　the　stars　came　quietly　out　and　it　was　a　still　night。

But　I　had　seen　that　what　is　our　dread　is　the　joy　of　the　spirits　of　the　Mighty　Mother；　and　though　the　vision　faded　and　I　doubted　what　I　had　seen；　it　prepared　the　way　for　what　I　was　yet　to　see。　A　few　days　later　we　started　on　what　was　to　be　the　most　exquisite　memory　of　my　life。　A　train　of　ponies　carried　our　tents　and　camping　necessaries　and　there　was　a　pony　for　each　of　us。　And　so；　in　the　cool　grey　of　a　divine　morning；　with　little　rosy　clouds　flecking　the　eastern　sky；　we　set　out　from　Islamabad　for　Vernag。　And　this　was　the　order　of　our　going。　She　and　I　led　the　way；　attended　by　a　sais　（groom）　and　a　coolie　carrying　the　luncheon　basket。　Half　way　we　would　stop　in　some　green　dell；　or　by　some　rushing　stream；　and　there　rest　and　eat　our　little　meal　while　the　rest　of　the　cavalcade　passed　on　to　the　appointed　camping　place；　and　in　the　late　afternoon　we　would　follow；　riding　slowly；　and　find　the　tents　pitched　and　the　kitchen　department　in　full　swing。　If　the　place　pleased　us　we　lingered　for　some　days；　…　if　not；　the　camp　was　struck　next　morning；　and　again　we　wandered　in　search　of　beauty。

The　people　were　no　inconsiderable　part　of　my　joy。　I　cannot　see　what　they　have　to　gain　from　such　civilization　as　ours　…　a　kindly　people　and　happy。　Courtesy　and　friendliness　met　us　everywhere；　and　if　their　labor　was　hard；　their　harvest　of　beauty　and　laughter　seemed　to　be　its　reward。　The　little　villages　with　their　groves　of　walnut　and　fruit　trees　spoke　of　no　unfulfilled　want；　the　mulberries　which　fatten　the　sleek　bears　in　their　season　fattened　the　children　too。　I　compared　their　lot　with　that　of　the　toilers　in　our　cities　and　knew　which　I　would　choose。　We　rode　by　shimmering　fields　of　barley；　with　red　poppies　floating　in　the　clear　transparent　green　as　in　deep　sea　water；　through　fields　of　millet　like　the　sky　fallen　on　the　earth；　so　innocently　blue　were　its　blossoms；　and　the　trees　above　us　were　trellised　with　the　wild　roses；　golden　and　crimson；　and　the　ways　tapestried　with　the　scented　stars　of　the　large　white　jasmine。

It　was　strange　that　later　much　of　what　she　said；　escaped　me。　Some　I　noted　down　at　the　time；　but　there　were　hints；　shadows　of　lovelier　things　beyond　that　eluded　all　but　the　fringes　of　memory　when　I　tried　to　piece　them　together　and　make　a　coherence　of　a　living　wonder。　For　that　reason；　the　best　things　cannot　be　told　in　this　history。　It　is　only　the　cruder；　grosser　matters　that　words　will　hold。　The　half…touchings　…vanishing　looks；　breaths　…　O　God；　I　know　them；　but　cannot　tell。

In　the　smaller　villages；　the　head　man　came　often　to　greet　us　and　make　us　welcome；　bearing　on　a　flat　dish　a　little　offering　of　cakes　and　fruit；　the　produce　of　the　place。　One　evening　a　man　so　approached；　stately　in　white　robes　and　turban；　attended　by　a　little　lad　who　carried　the　patriarchal　gift　beside　him。　Our　tents　were　pitched　under　a　glorious　walnut　tree　with　a　run…　ning　stream　at　our　feet。

Vanna　of　course；　was　the　interpreter；　and　I　called　her　from　her　tent　as　the　man　stood　salaaming　before　me。　It　was　strange　that　when　she　came；　dressed　in　white；　he　stopped　in　his　salutation；　and　gazed　at　her　in　what；　I　thought；　was　silent　wonder。

She　spoke　earnestly　to　him；　standing　before　him　with　clasped　hands；　almost；　I　could　think；　in　the　attitude　of　a　suppliant。　The　man　listened　gravely；　with　only　an　interjection；　now　and　again；　and　once　he　turned　and　looked　curiously　at　me。　Then　he　spoke；　evidently　making　some　announcement　which　she　received　with　bowed　head　…　and　when　he　turned　to　go　with　a　grave　salute；　she　performed　a　very　singular　ceremony；　moving　slowly　round　him　three　times　with　clasped　hands；　keeping　him　always　on　the　right。　He　repaid　it　with　the　usual　salaam　and　greeting　of　peace；　which　he　bestowed　also　on　me；　and　then　departed　in　deep　meditation；　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　ground。　I　ventured　to　ask　what　it　all　meant；　and　she　looked　thoughtfully　at　me　before　replying。

〃It　was　a　strange　thing。　I　fear　you　will　not　altogether　understand；　but　I　will　tell　you　what　I　can。　That　man　though　living　here　among　Mahomedans；　is　a　Brahman　from　Benares；　and；　what　is　very　rare　in　India；　a　Buddhist。　And　when　he　saw　me　he　believed　he　remembered　me　in　a　former　birth。　The　ceremony　you　saw　me　perform　is　one　of　honour　in　India。　It　was　his　due。〃

〃Did　you　remember　him？〃　I　knew　my　voice　was　incredulous。

〃Very　well。　He　has　changed　little　but　is　further　on　the　upward　path。　I　saw　him　with　dread　for　he　holds　the　memory　of　a　great　wrong　I　did。　Yet　he　told　me　a　thing　that　has　filled　my　heart　with　joy。〃

〃Vanna…what　is　it？〃

She　had　a　clear　uplifted　look　which　startled　me。　There　was　suddenly　a　chill　air　blowing　between　us。

〃I　must　not　tell　you　yet　but　you　will　know　soon。　He　was　a　good　man。　I　am　glad　we　have　met。〃

She　buried　herself　in　writing　in　a　small　book　I　had　noticed　and　longed　to　look　into；　and　no　more　was　said。

We　struck　camp　next　day　and　trekked　on　towards　Vernag　…　a　rough　march；　but　one　of　great　beauty；　beneath　the　shade　of　forest　trees；　garlanded　with　pale　roses　that　climbed　from　bough　to　bough　and　tossed　triumphant　wreaths　into　the　uppermost　blue。

In　the　afternoon　thunder　was　flapping　its　wings　far　off　in　the　mountains　and　a　little　rain　fell　while　we　were　lunching　under　a　big　tree。　I　was　considering　anxiously　how　to　shelter　Vanna；　when　a　farmer　invited　us　to　his　house　…　a　scene　of　Biblical　hospitality　that　delighted　us　both。　He　led　us　up　some　break…neck　little　stairs　to　a　large　bare　room；　open　to　the　clean　air　all　round　the　roof；　and　with　a　kind　of　rough　enclosure　on　the　wooden　floor　where　the　family　slept　at　night。　There　he　opened　our　basket；　and　then；　with　anxious　care；　hung　clothes　and　rough　draperies　about　us　that　our　meal　might　be　unwatched　by　one　or　two　friends　who　had　followed　us　in　with　breathless　interest。