street. One last glance, as my eyes reached the floor-level of the trap,
showed me that the room was untenanted, save by the prostrate form of the
visionary, above whom the eyes of the peacock still glinted with something
of mockery in their blue depths.

As we passed homewards down the street we heard the woman in the upper
chamber still singing her prayer, but with a note of hope in its cadence:--

"O dilruba tu gam na kho, khuda hamen baham kare"
"Janejahan bhulo nahi, karim sada karam kare."
"Grieve not, heart of my heart, for God will
order our meeting! Soul of the world,
forget not; and may the peace of God be
on us twain."

Perchance she also, like Fateh Muhammad's guests, had caught a message of
good hap from out the darkness.

And so back to the light and the noise of the City's greatest artery.




XX.

THE TILAK RIOTS.

A REMINISCENCE.

(_Written August_. 1908)