ats
of the mighty and received honour as one to whom honour is due.

To all this he responded with a gratitude which was sincere; but his
deeper gratitude was for the Powers by whose ordering he had been born
neither an Englishman nor a Christian, but a Hindu.

Here, as in America, he looked about him observingly and pondered the
meaning of what he saw. But he understood it not, and went hither and
thither like a man in a dream. In his Indian home he had studied Western
civilisation from the books which tell of its mighty works and its
religion; and, so studied, it had seemed to him an intelligible thing.
But, seen with the naked eye, it appeared incomprehensible, nay,
incredible. Its bigness oppressed him, its variety confused him, its
restlessness made him numb. Values seemed to be inverted, perspectives
to be distorted, good and evil to be transposed: "in" meant "out," and
Death did duty for Life. Chandrapal could not take the point of view,
and finally concluded there was no point of view to take. He could not
frame his visions into coherence, and therefore judged that he was
looking at chaos. Sometimes he would doubt the reality of what he saw,
and would recollect himself and seek for evidence that he was awake.
"Can such things be?" he would say to himself; "for this people has
turned all things upside down. Their happiness is misery, their wisdom
is bewilderment, their truth is self-deception, their speech is a
disguise, their science is the parent of error, their life is a process
of suicide, their god is the worm that dieth not and the fire that is
not quenched. What is believed is not professed, and what is professed
is not believed. In yonder place"--he was looking at London--"there is
darkness and misery enough for seven hells. Verily they have already
come to judgment and been condemned."

So thought Chandrapal. But his mistake, if it was one, offended nobody;
for he held his peace about these things.

* * * * *

There came a day when the folk of Deadborough were started from their
wonted apathy by the apparition of a Strange Man. They saw him first as
he drove from the station in a splendid carriage-and-pair, with a
coronet on its panels. Seated in the carriage was a venerable being with
a swarthy countenance and headgear of the whitest--such was the brief
vision. Other carriages followed in due course, for there was an
illustrious house-party at Deadborough Hall--the ow