Part 4 (2/2)
That tamasha was a maze of strange colour, strange motion and stranger perfume to Skag; not penetrating his conscious nature at all--feeling unreal to him.
”I've been watching you without shame this night, young man,” the Doctor said to him, as they finished the after-midnight meal. ”My entertainment fell dead with you. Sir. You've been 'way off somewhere else. I'm simply consumed to know what you have found in life, to make your eyes blind and your ears deaf to the lure of human beauty. You're not to be distressed by my impudence--it's innocent.”
”If I may answer for my friend, I belive [Transcriber's note: believe?] I can tell you, Doctor.” Cadman saw consent in Skag's eye and went on: ”He has found the lure of creatures. He has entered into the spell of a young tigress playing with her kittens, in her own place. He has watched another tigress fight her mate to a finish, defending her little ones from their sire. He has listened to the symphonies of night and seen the drama of the wild. He lives in the clean glamour of the primeval jungle.”
The Doctor's eyes widened for seconds; then they gloomed as he spoke:
”Between you, you challenge modern manhood. We have not conceived that 'clean glamour' since men were young--forgotten ages past. No, there was no human beauty to-night to make a man forget those tigresses. . . . She was not there. I am one of many who miss her, but I would give--” The Doctor broke off, searching their faces before he spoke again: ”There is no hope you will know the depth of the calamity; the bitterness of the loss. Speaking of clean things--”
”Who was she?” Cadman asked.
”She was the most beautiful thing on earth. She was indeed the most marvellous thing on earth, being a Bombay singing nautch-girl--undefamed.
There has been no one else, these ages.”
The Doctor sat smoking, apparently oblivious of his guests.
”The Spartan Helen?” Cadman suggested.
”Hah! The Spartan Helen was not invincible!”
”The Noor Mahal?”
”The Noor Mahal was always in seclusion.”
”Her name?” Skag questioned.
”She had no name,” the Doctor answered, ”but she was called 'Dhoop Ki Dhil'--Heart-of-the-Sun; possibly on account of her voice. There has been none like it. The master-mahouts of High Himalaya, their voices pa.s.s those of all other men for splendour; but I tell you there was none other in the world, beside hers. Rich men in Bombay would give fortunes to anyone who would find her.”
”Then she is not dead?” Skag spoke startled.
”We do not know that she is dead,” the Doctor answered. ”We would suppose so, but for a curious happening four days before she disappeared.
Down in the silk-market a dealer was buying silk from an up-country native--a man from the Gra.s.s Jungle. The native was exceptionally good to look upon. Dhoop Ki Dhil came into the place to make some purchase.
Her eye fell on the jungle man and she stood back. She was a valuable customer, so the silk-merchant made haste to signal her forward. But she shook her head and moved further back.”
The Doctor stopped to smoke.
”After a while Dhoop Ki Dhil came forward, moving like one in a trance, and said to the jungle man, 'Are you a G.o.d?' and the jungle man answered her with shame, 'No, I am a common man.'
”Now that silk-merchant will tell no more. One doesn't blame him. The natives are not patient with such a tale of her. To hear that any man had taken her eye, maddened them. She had pa.s.sed the snares of desire--immune. She had turned away from fabulous wealth. She had denied princes and kings. She smiled on all men alike--with that smile mothers have for little children.”
”She was a mother-thing,” murmured Cadman.
The Doctor turned, questioning:
”A mother-thing? Yes, probably. But she led the singing women like a super-being incarnate. She led the dancing women like a living flame.
They sing and dance yet, but the fire of life is gone out!”
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