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One evening I decided to go out on my horseI do not know who implored me to stay…but I would listen to no entreaties that day。 My English hat and coat were resting on a rack； and I was about to take them down when a sudden whirlwind； crested with the sands of the Susta and the dead leaves of the Avalli hills； caught them up； and whirled them round and round； while a loud peal of merry laughter rose higher and higher； striking all the chords of mirth till it died away in the land of sunset。
I could not go out for my ride； and the next day I gave up my queer English coat and hat for good。
That day again at dead of night I heard the stifled heart…breaking sobs of some oneas if below the bed； below the floor； below the stony foundation of that gigantic palace； from the depths of a dark damp grave； a voice piteously cried and implored me： 〃Oh； rescue me！ Break through these doors of hard illusion； deathlike slumber and fruitless dreams； place by your side on the saddle； press me to your heart； and； riding through hills and woods and across the river； take me to the warm radiance of your sunny rooms above！〃
Who am I？ Oh； how can I rescue thee？ What drowning beauty； what incarnate passion shall I drag to the shore from this wild eddy of dreams？ O lovely ethereal apparition！ Where didst thou flourish and when？〃 By what cool spring； under the shade of what date…groves； wast thou bornin the lap of what homeless wanderer in the desert？ What Bedouin snatched thee from thy mother's arms； an opening bud plucked from a wild creeper； placed thee on a horse swift as lightning； crossed the burning sands； and took thee to the slave…market of what royal city？ And there； what officer of the Badshah； seeing the glory of thy bashful blossoming youth； paid for thee in gold； placed thee in a golden palanquin； and offered thee as a present for the seraglio of his master？ And O； the history of that place！ The music of the sareng； the jingle of anklets； the occasional flash of daggers and the glowing wine of Shiraz poison； and the piercing flashing glance！ What infinite grandeur； what endless servitude！
The slave…girls to thy right and left waved the chamar as diamonds flashed from their bracelets； the Badshah； the king of kings； fell on his knees at thy snowy feet in bejewelled shoes； and outside the terrible Abyssinian eunuch； looking like a messenger of death； but clothed like an angel； stood with a naked sword in his hand！ Then； O； thou flower of the desert； swept away by the blood…stained dazzling ocean of grandeur； with its foam of jealousy； its rocks and shoals of intrigue； on what shore of cruel death wast thou cast； or in what other land more splendid and more cruel？
Suddenly at this moment that crazy Meher Ali screamed out： 〃Stand back！ Stand back！！ All is false！ All is false！！〃 I opened my eyes and saw that it was already light。 My chaprasi came and handed me my letters； and the cook waited with a salam for my orders。
I said； 〃No； I can stay here no longer。〃 That very day I packed up； and moved to my office。 Old Karim Khan smiled a little as he saw me。 I felt nettled； but said nothing； and fell to my work。
As evening approached I grew absent…minded； I felt as if I had an appointment to keep； and the work of examining the cotton accounts seemed wholly useless； even the Nizamat of the Nizam did not appear to be of much worth。 Whatever belonged to the present； whatever was moving and acting and working for bread seemed trivial； meaningless； and contemptible。
I threw my pen down； closed my ledgers； got into my dog…cart； and drove away。 I noticed that it stopped of itself at the gate of the marble palace just at the hour of twilight。 With quick steps I climbed the stairs； and entered the room。
A heavy silence was reigning within。 The dark rooms were looking sullen as if they had taken offence。 My heart was full of contrition； but there was no one to whom I could lay it bare； or of whom I could ask forgiveness。 I wandered about the dark rooms with a vacant mind。 I wished I had a guitar to which I could sing to the unknown： 〃O fire； the poor moth that made a vain effort to fly away has come back to thee！ Forgive it but this once； burn its wings and consume it in thy flame！〃
Suddenly two tear…drops fell from overhead on my brow。 Dark masses of clouds overcast the top of the Avalli hills that day。 The gloomy woods and the sooty waters of the Susta were waiting in terrible suspense and in an ominous calm。 Suddenly land； water； and sky shivered； and a wild tempest…blast rushed howling through the distant pathless woods； showing its lightning…teeth like a raving maniac who had broken his chains。 The desolate halls of the palace banged their doors； and moaned in the bitterness of anguish。
The servants were all in the office； and there was no one to light the lamps。 The night was cloudy and moonless。 In the dense gloom within I could distinctly feel that a woman was lying on her face on the carpet below the bedclasping and tearing her long dishevelled hair with desperate fingers。 Blood was tricking down her fair brow； and she was now laughing a hard； harsh； mirthless laugh； now bursting into violent wringing sobs； now rending her bodice and striking at her bare bosom； as the wind roared in through the open window； and the rain poured in torrents and soaked her through and through。
All night there was no cessation of the storm or of the passionate cry。 I wandered from room to room in the dark； with unavailing sorrow。 Whom could I console when no one was by？ Whose was this intense agony of sorrow？ Whence arose this inconsolable grief？
And the mad man cried out： 〃Stand back！ Stand back！！ All is false！ All is false！！〃
I saw that the day had dawned； and Meher Ali was going round and round the palace with his usual cry in that dreadful weather。 Suddenly it came to me that perhaps he also had once lived in that house； and that； though he had gone mad； he came there every day； and went round and round； fascinated by the weird spell cast by the marble demon。
Despite the storm and rain I ran to him and asked： 〃Ho； Meher Ali； what is false？〃
The man answered nothing； but pushing me aside went round and round with his frantic cry； like a bird flying fascinated about the jaws of a snake； and made a desperate effort to warn himself by repeating： 〃Stand back！ Stand back！！ All is false！ All is false！！〃
I ran like a mad man through the pelting rain to my office； and asked Karim Khan： 〃Tell me the meaning of all this！〃
What I gathered from that old man was this： That at one time countless unrequited passions and unsatisfied longings and lurid flames of wild blazing pleasure raged within that palace； and that the curse of all the heart…aches and blasted hopes had made its every stone thirsty and hungry； eager to swallow up like a famished ogress any living man who might chance to approach。 Not one of those who lived there for three consecutive nights could escape these cruel jaws； save Meher Ali； who had escaped at the cost of his reason。
I asked： 〃Is there no means whatever of my release？〃 The old man said： 〃There is only one means； and that is very difficult。 I will tell you what it is； but first you must hear the history of a young Persian girl who once lived in that pleasure…dome。 A stranger or a more bitterly heart…rending tragedy was never enacted on this earth。〃
Just at this moment the coolies announced that the train was coming。 So soon？ We hurriedly packed up our luggage； as the tram steamed in。 An English gentleman； apparently just aroused from slumber； was looking out of a first…class carriage endeavouring to read the name of the station。 As soon as he caught sight of our fellow…passenger； he cried； 〃Hallo；〃 and took him into his own compartment。 As we got into a second…class carriage； we had no chance of finding out who the man was nor what was the end of his story。
I said； 〃The man evidently took us for fools and imposed upon us out of fun。 The story is pure fabrication from start to finish。〃 The discussion that followed ended in a lifelong rupture between my theosophist kinsman and myself。
THE VICTORY
She was the Princess Ajita。 And the court poet of King Narayan had never seen her。 On the day he recited a new poem to the king he would raise his voice just to that pitch which could be heard by unseen hearers in the screened balcony high above the hall。 He sent up his song towards the star…land out of his reach； where； circled with light； the planet who ruled his destiny shone unknown and out of ken。
He would espy some shadow moving behind the veil。 A tinkling sound would come to his car from afar； and would set him dreaming of the ankles whose tiny golden bells sang at each step。 Ah； the rosy red tender feet that walked the dust of the earth like God's mercy on the fallen！ The poet had placed them on the altar of his heart； where he wove his songs to the tune of those golden bells。 Doubt never arose in his mind as to whose shadow it was that moved behind the screen； and whose anklets they were that sang to the time of his beating heart。
Manjari； the maid of the princess； passed by the poet's house on her way to the river； and she never